My First Time

My First Time

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My First Time episodes

  • “Sure Thing” Network: Part 2
    “Sure Thing” Network: Part 2
    The girls network, and their losing battle with their carnal desires.

    Based on a post by reader4175.

    Listen to the Podcast on My
    First Time.



    I said, “this is pretty fucking good.”

     She said; “if you like that, you should feel it without the

    condom.”

    She rolled off, pulled off the condom and threw it away. She

    said “don't worry, my body is too drained from wrestling, I haven't had a
    period in 3 months,” just before she slid back down on me. So hot, so tight, so
    wet. I wasn't going to last long and she could see it in my face.

    She started rocking back and forth and when she saw me grit my

    teeth, she stopped and leaned down to put her tits in my face. I hadn't paid
    too much attention to them so far, because of the positions that we had been
    in. They weren't great, maybe B's and a little saggy, but I was in heaven with
    a nipple in my mouth. In a moment of clarity, I told her; “put another condom
    on me just in case.”

     She agreed and got off me again. When she mounted me again,

    I told her that I wanted her other nipple. She obliged, but immediately started
    rocking her hips again. I just lost it and came with a nipple in my mouth. It
    wasn't hard for her to tell and she leaned down to cradle my head.

    When I came back to reality, she said, “well I guess I

    really won that round.”

     I sat up looked at the clock and said “Holy Fuck, we have

    to get back to the school to setup for our match.”

     We got dressed and I grabbed my wrestling bag. Hers was in

    her car. When it came time for the match, I was drained, but she was on fire.
    We wrestled in order by weight so she was up before me and bested a guy that
    thought he was going to have an easy win. I on the other hand did get an easy
    win against a freshman, which was a good thing, because my head wasn't in the
    game.

    The next day at practice as I was riding Carrie-Ann’s ass, I

    leaned into her ear and whispered that I wished we were doing this in my bed.
    She said; “yesterday was great, but if you are going to be garbage on the mat,
    after a private practice session, then you won't be getting any more of that
    before a match. We will have to find a better time to play.”

     I worked my hand underneath her and pinched a nipple and

    she started fighting like a wild cat. We didn't end up getting back in my bed,
    but nothing was off limits on the mat as long as it wasn't too obvious.

    Becky.

    Becky was a cross between a brat and a bitch and I never

    knew which one I was going to get. She had been right next to me every year in
    my homeroom and I hadn't given her much thought, but she was actually my type.
    She was five foot two or three inches tall, with long brown hair, blue eyes,
    big tits and wide hips.

    I really never expected her to approach me, but one day

    after school she kind of got in my face and said "Give me a ride
    home." She didn't really ask me, it was more of a demand.

     I knew where she lived and I felt sorry for her. Her family

    had a run-down mobile home out in the middle of nowhere. I asked her why I
    should and she said "You're a nice guy."

    As I thought to myself, we will see about that. Carrie-Ann

    and the other girls had unlocked something inside me that was going to get
    unleashed today. We had to pass my house on the way, so we would be making a
    pit stop.

    When I turned into my driveway, she asked me what I was

    doing. I said; “I’m hungry.  I am stopping to get something to eat.”

     She said that she would wait in the car. I told her; “if

    you don’t come into the house, you will be waiting longer than you want.”

     She asked me why she needed to come in and I said "At

    the very least, to talk to me, if you're not going to eat with me."

    She said "I guess." She followed me inside and to

    the upper level, to the kitchen.

    I offered her a drink and she accepted, but said she was not

    hungry, although I suspected that she may have been. I tried to have a
    conversation, but really only got flippant answers to my questions. When I was
    done eating she asked if we could go.

    I said “I had something else to attend to,” before we left

    and “You should follow me to my bedroom.”

     She said, "I don't think so."

     I said "Well I am tired of your attitude and we are

    going to do something about it today."

    Her eyes went wide and she headed towards the stairs. I

    caught her by the hair, just as she was about to step down and turn her to face
    me.

    She looked scared and I asked her if she was going to be a

    good girl or if she was going to keep being naughty. I tightened my grip and
    she yelped that she would be good.

    I said "Well you have been naughty and we are going to

    remedy that", as I pulled her towards my bedroom. I asked her “what are
    you going to do to apologize for being such a bratty little bitch?”

     When she didn't answer, I asked her if she wanted a

    spanking or if she could think of something she would rather do. She rolled her
    eyes and said, “I will give you a blowjob, I know that's what you really want.”

     I asked her what made her think she knew what I wanted. She

    said “that's what all guys want.”

     I told her that would be a good start, but I still thought

    she deserved a spanking.

    I took my pants off and sat down on the edge of my bed. She

    dropped to her knees in front of me. I told her to take her shirt and bra off.
    She started to protest, but I told her to do it or I was going to spank ass.
    She just shook her head and peeled her shirt off. When she dropped her bra, I
    saw the biggest areolas that I had ever seen. They were brown and about three inches
    in diameter, covering the whole bulb of her tits. She caught me staring and
    asked what I was looking at.

    I just told her; “come to me because I have to have those tits

    in my face.” I don't know what changed, but she didn't hesitate, stood up and
    held her tits out to me. She must have liked having her nipples sucked, because
    the instant I latched on, she moaned and grabbed the back of my head. I wrapped
    my arm around her waist and alternated between them until she shuddered and
    came. I hugged her, to keep her from collapsing.

    When she recovered, her whole demeanor had changed and she

    dropped back to her knees in front of me. Instead of being reluctant, she
    pulled my boxers off to get to my cock. She gave the underside a few licks and
    then sucked my head into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the top
    before starting to bob her head. She kept going deeper and deeper until she had
    all of my cock in her mouth when she stopped at the base and looked up at me. I
    reached my hand out to the side of her face and said “good girl.”

     She went into overdrive and deepthroated me until I came

    and laid back on the bed. She must have swallowed it all, because she crawled
    up next to me and licked her lips.

    I asked her what had gotten into her and she said “most guys

    didn't like my boobs.”

     I told her that I loved them and then asked her if she was

    open to doing anything else. She said; “I wouldn't mind another orgasm?”

     So I told her; “I will eat your pussy?”

     She hesitated, and I asked her what the problem was.

    She said; “that doesn't usually do too much for me.”

    I told her; “just lay back and let me see what I can do.” I

    stripped off her jeans and panties to find a small patch of hair just above her
    clit.

    I didn't take much time warming her up, because she was

    still wet from her first orgasm. I licked her slit from bottom to top a few
    times, and then buried my tongue inside her.

    She wasn't really responding, so I moved up and started

    sucking on her clit. She started to squirm a little bit, but she still wasn't
    getting very far. I kept on sucking, but slid my hands up her sides, to her tits.
    I got a good handful of both and started thumbing her nipples.

    This really got her going and she was bucking into my face.

    I moved my hands just a little so I could run her nipples between my thumbs and
    fingers. A few seconds later she screamed, and gushed all over my face. I wiped
    my face off and climbed up on the bed to hold her for a few minutes.

    When she came back to the real world, she said; “I have

    never done that before”. I asked her if she wanted to do it again. She said; “I
    wouldn't mind. “

    I rolled over, grabbed a condom and said “how about you ride

    me.”

    She rolled it on me and climbed on. She started bouncing a

    little until I pulled her shoulders down, put one nipple in my mouth, pinched
    the other and grabbed her ass with my left hand. I forced her into my rhythm
    and pushed as many of her buttons as I could. She moaned and gushed again just
    as I came inside of her. She laid down on my chest like she was never going to
    leave.

    I looked at the clock and decided that it was time to get

    her home before anyone else got home at my house. I slapped her on the ass and
    told her it was time to get going. She got up, cleaned herself up and got
    dressed. I looked at my bed and realized that I was going to have to wash my
    sheets. We finally got back in my car and headed towards her house. We passed
    her cousin Katie's house on the way. I wasn't trying to be an asshole, but I
    asked Becky what I would have to do to get Katie in my bed.

    She said “What the fuck, we just got done and now you want

    her.”

     I said "Well I never expected to go that far with you,

    and I have had a crush on her since 7th grade."

     She thought about it and said "You're an asshole, but

    I want her to have that kind of experience with you, so I will talk to
    her."

    I had a great time with Becky, but she only ever asked me

    for one more ride home and there wasn't enough time for a full session, so all
    I got was a blowjob in my car before dropping her off.

    Katie.

    I don't know if Katie was my type, but I couldn't keep my

    eyes off of her. Five foot three or four, shoulder length red hair, blue eyes,
    pale white skin with just a few freckles and boobs that were just a little too
    big for her frame. The problem was, she never really cared for me, but I guess
    I may not have approached her properly.

    One day, Becky pulled me aside in the hall and said; “I

    talked to Katie.”

     She didn't go into detail, but she said that Katie was

    willing to talk to me.

    I found her at her locker at the end of the day and before I

    could say anything she said “What do you want?”

     I was caught off guard and I said “I thought Becky had

    talked to you.”

     Her reply was "I talked to her, but all she said was

    that you wanted to talk to me."

    Well, what the fuck, I thought Becky was going to make this

    easy for me. No, but better than nothing. So, I said "How about I give you
    a ride home and we can talk about some things."

    She said, "What do I have to talk to you about?"

     I said, "Just give the attitude a rest and drop your

    walls for a few minutes." Again, she replied with, "What do you
    want?"

    I said, "The simple answer is you."

    Her mouth dropped open and she stared at me. I asked her if

    that was a problem. She didn't reply, so I stepped in closer, slid my hand up
    the back of her neck, and took a handful of hair and whispered in her ear that
    she was mine now.

    She shivered a little and just said "Don't hurt

    me."

    This was not at all the response I thought I was going to

    get, but I was not going to waste this opportunity by going easy on her. I told
    her to get the rest of her things and she would be coming with me. She was
    always so composed and in charge of everything and now she was resigned to
    follow my directions. Instead of just taking her home with me, I decided to
    take her to the cabin. It was a little farther away, but completely secluded
    and the last place that anyone would go looking for us.

    We headed out to my car. I opened the passenger's side door

    for her. She stepped in and then I buckled her in. She looked up but said
    nothing. I closed the door and walked around to the driver's side of the car. I
    got in and we took off. As soon as we were up to speed, I put my hand on her
    thigh. She looked over like she was going to protest and when she saw the dark
    look on my face, she turned away to look out the window. I started to slide my
    hand up and she looked at me again, did not say anything and put her hands on
    top of mine to keep me from moving any closer. She didn't know it, but by touching
    me she did exactly what I wanted. I squeezed her thigh and she surprised me
    with a small smile.

    She must not have been paying attention to where we were

    going, because when we got to the cabin, she looked up and asked me where we
    were. I said,” this is going to be your happy place.”

     She looked confused and I said “we are going inside.”

     I got out and led her in by the hand. The cabin was

    sparsely furnished, some bunks, a wood stove and a large rectangular dining
    table. I had no intention of using any of the bunks. I was going to use that
    table to break her.

    I looked at her and told her to strip. She blanched and I told

    her; “either you could take your clothes off or I would tear them off.”

     She sat down in a chair, removed her shoes, stood up,

    dropped her pants and pulled her shirt off over her head. She stood there
    looking at the floor in black panties and a white bra. I told her; “You’re not
    done, but I would be more than happy to finish the job for you?”

     She didn't move or say a word until she squealed when I

    picked her up and put her on the edge of the table. She still wasn't looking at
    me so I tilted her face up to mine by her chin. I could see she was scared, but
    there was still a spark in her eyes.

    I asked her if she was ready to be mine, and she shivered a

    little and very quietly said “yes.”

     I unhooked her bra, set it aside and I was presented with

    quarter sized pink areolas and perfect little nipples. I brought one to my
    mouth and then alternated back and forth until she started to squirm. When she
    started to moan I laid her back on the table and peeled her panties off. Where
    I was greeted with a triangular patch of red hair pointing down at her pussy. I
    dove in and started licking her slit. She was already wet and I slipped my
    tongue inside before working my way to the top to find her clit. I latched on
    to it hard and she screamed.

    I went to the other end of the table and pulled her towards

    me far enough for her head to hang over the edge. I was already rock hard, so
    when I dropped my pants and boxes she got an up close view of my cock. I told
    her to open up, when she hesitated, I reached for her tits and squeezed them
    until she opened her mouth. I let up on the pressure and she took about half of
    my cock into her mouth. I started to stroke in and out and she was actually
    able to take all of my cock. I held onto her tits and face fucked her until I
    was about ready to cum. I pulled most of the way out and unloaded into her
    mouth. She swallowed most of it, only coughing a little, and I was still hard.

    I moved back to the other end of the table and pulled her

    down so that her ass was on the edge. I rubbed my cock up and down her slit a
    few times and she said “please use a condom.”

     I was ready for that and got one from my pants. When I was

    ready to go, I put her legs on my shoulders, spread her lips with my thumbs and
    sank my cock into her pussy. I held still to savor it for a minute before I
    reached up, took her wrists and started pounding her. I must have been hitting
    her G-Spot just right, because she stiffened and came and repeated that three
    more times. I finally came after her fourth orgasm. She was worn out, so I
    moved her up onto the table so that nothing was hanging off and sat down in a
    chair.

    She sat up a few minutes later and told me; “that was

    amazing, but I need to get home.”

     She also said; “I talked to Becky about everything and that

    she had been playing along the whole time, just to see where you would take it.
    She doesn't think that she could be truly submissive, but she had played along
    for your benefit.”

     I was disappointed, and she could see it.

     She said “I would be happy to do it again another time if

    you want, but it won’t be a regular occurrence.”

    Kristina.

    Kristina was a little different from my normal. She was

    still around five foot two or three inches tall, but blonde with deep set blue
    eyes, big tits and wide hips. She was book smart, but also a ditzy cheerleader.
    I couldn't have a conversation with her, but I still wanted to fuck her.

    One evening after wrestling practice, a bunch of us headed

    up to the gym to watch a varsity basketball game. The cheerleaders were there
    to support our team and I was really just there to watch the cheerleaders.
    There were a few cuties, mostly underclassmen, but I really liked to watch
    Kristina bounce around. Just as the game ended I caught her on the sideline and
    asked her what she was doing for the rest of the night.

    She said that she really needed to get home, so I offered

    her a ride. She accepted, but had to let one of the other girls know because
    she was supposed to be riding with her.

    We pulled out of the driveway and my right hand went

    straight to her bare thigh. She looked over at me and smiled, so I slid my hand
    up until the edge was touching her panties. She reached down and pulled my hand
    in closer so I could feel the moist heat coming from her pussy.

    When we got to her house, she leaned over, kissed me and

    said “I am free to do whatever you want after school tomorrow.”

     I decided right then that the table at the cabin was going to

    get used again.

    I found her at her locker after school. She wasn't in her

    uniform, but she was wearing a white button down blouse with some cleavage
    showing, a black pleated skirt that fell just above her knees and back Converse
    sneakers. I loved the ease of access that a skirt provides. We got into my car
    and she peeled off and handed me her tiny black g-string before sitting down.

    As soon as I got on the road, she was pulling my hand

    towards her pussy. It was a little awkward, but I got a finger inside, and that
    was just what she wanted.

    We walked into the cabin, she looked around and said “it

    looks like we are using the table.”

     I said “that was my plan.” She turned and kissed me. I

    removed her blouse and bra while we were kissing. As soon as her tits were
    free, I dipped my head to suck on her nipples. She squealed and then started to
    moan. I let up and she reached down to remove her skirt. I told her; “leave it
    on for now.”

    I didn't even have to ask, and she dropped to her knees in

    front of me. She worked me up a little with her hands before sucking me into
    her mouth. Then she bobbed up and down a few times in the top half before
    burying my cock in her throat. She held herself down until her eyes started to
    water and then she pulled her mouth off with a pop. She took a few deep breaths
    and then started to deepthroat me. She bobbed up and down until I lost my load
    down her throat.

    Then she hopped up on the table and said “you're turn.”

     I had planned on eating her pussy, anyway but it was

    usually on my terms. She laid back on the table with her ass and heels right on
    the edge. Cheerleaders are so flexible. I pulled my chair up and dove in. I
    would usually reach for her nipples, but she had put both her hands on my head
    and I was doing all I could to keep her knees apart. She must have liked it
    when I started sucking on her clit, because she squealed, tried to crush my
    head and then laid flat on the table.

    I was hard again, dragged her off the table, spun her around

    and bent her over the table with her feet still on the ground. She was still
    wearing her skirt, so I flipped it up over her ass and slid my cock up and down
    her slit a few times before burying it inside her. She moaned when I bottomed
    out and just kept moaning as I pumped in and out of her. I didn't know how she
    would take it, but I sucked on my thumb and stuck it in her ass. She screamed
    out Yes and started to buck back into me. She locked up on me while she had
    another orgasm.

    I was almost ready to pop again and I asked her if I could

    finish in her ass. She asked if I had any lube, luckily for me I had stashed
    some on the back of a shelf in the cabin. I lubed up my cock and squirted some
    in her ass. I pushed the head in and she wiggled a little bit. She said; “give
    me the rest of it;” and she had her third orgasm when I bottomed out. She
    settled down and pushed herself up with her hands. I reached for her tits and
    started to pound her ass. It didn't take long before I unloaded inside her. I
    pulled out, wiped myself off and sat down.

    She turned around to face me and asked when I would be up

    for doing that again.

    I wasn't usually up for a third round, but I told her; “it

    will only take a few minutes if you help me.”

     She straddled me and sat down on my lap. She started

    kissing me and that was ok, but I wanted her nipples in my mouth. She got the
    idea and started gyrating on my lap.

    When she thought I was hard enough, she turned around and

    sank her asshole down onto my cock. I reached up to tweak her nipples and she
    really started to go crazy. Her hands were on my knees, so I dropped my right
    hand to finger her pussy. I slid two fingers inside and put my thumb on her
    clit. I did what I could to push all her buttons at once and I was rewarded with
    her screaming and squirting all over the place. I stood up, pushed her back to
    the table and hammered her ass again until I came.

    Three times was enough and we were both exhausted. She lay

    bent over the table and I sat back down. When she was able to stand up, we both
    got cleaned up and dressed. She said; “I’m impressed, because most guys could
    not keep up with me, let alone go three rounds.” She added; “I would be happy
    to play with you again in a more comfortable place.”

     I took her home, and after I dropped her off, I started to

    wonder when I would find the right girl for me.

     Based on a post by reader4175,

    for Literotica.

    28 min
  • “Sure Thing” Network: Part 1
    “Sure Thing” Network: Part 1
    The girls network, and Fifty shades of virginity.

    Based on a post by reader4175.

    Listen to the Podcast on My
    First Time.



    Kaitlin.

    Being nearly a year older, I developed physically and

    mentally at a pace the other guys couldn’t keep. It helped me get the girls’
    attention and interest.

    Sadly, my academic development was nothing to boast about.

    Kaitlin was a sporty little blonde, with tiny tits, a tight

    ass, brown eyes, a great smile and perfect teeth. I'm not sure what really even
    made me interested in her, other than her smile. It was always there and kind
    of infectious. She was different from most of the girls, because she would take
    time to talk to anyone. It didn't matter who you were, what you did or what you
    looked like, she would still talk to you.

    I did not think that I had a chance in hell with her, but I

    didn't think that I had a chance in hell with any girl right about then. She
    was right in front of me one day leaving class and I had a question about an
    assignment, but the teacher was busy, so I asked Kaitlin.

    She turned, looked up at me and said "Come over to my

    house after school and I will help you with it."

    Thàt was not the answer that I was expecting, but I was not

    going to turn down her invitation.

    We both had our own cars, so I met her in the parking lot

    after school. I followed her home and she invited me into her empty house. We
    sat down at her kitchen table and she wanted to get right to work. I was having
    a hard time doing anything. I was really just staring at her and wondering
    where this might go. She noticed that I was not paying attention, looked up and
    asked me what was going on. All I could say was that I usually took a bit of a
    break when I got home from school before I started my homework.

    She asked me if I wanted something to drink,

     I said “yes”, and then watched her walk away.

    She told me; “come to the fridge and pick what you want.”

     I was looking over her shoulder and all I really wanted was

    her. I said that I would like a Mountain Dew so she handed one to me. I started
    back towards the table, and she said “why don't we go into the living room.”

    I sat down on the couch and she sat down right next to me. I

    really was not expecting that, so I turned to look at her and she just smiled.
    I took that as a good sign and put my arm around her. She just snuggled in and
    put her head in my chest.

    I really didn't know what I was doing, but I lifted her chin

    with my hand and leaned down to kiss her. She didn't say a word and kissed me
    back. I scooped her up into my lap and slid my hand up her shirt as I continued
    to kiss her. Again she didn't try to stop me. I squeezed her tits and tweaked
    her nipples for a few minutes while I kept kissing her. When I tried to move my
    hand from under her shirt to the waistband of her pants, she pulled away and
    said “that's enough, we are done.”

    I must have looked disappointed, because she said “it's not

    your fault, this is only as far as I am willing to go.”

     I ask “so what now?”

     She said; “we could go back to our homework or you

    could take matters into your own hands.”

     I asked what that was supposed to mean and she said that

    she wouldn't help me, but if I wanted to finish myself, she would take off her
    shirt, sit in the chair across from me and watch.

    I was hard as a rock and she could tell. I asked her to get

    me a towel. She came back with the towel in one hand and her shirt and bra in
    the other. I stood up, peeled off my shirt and dropped my pants.

    Her eyes lit up, so I dropped my boxers and sat back down.

    She took her seat and started to play with her own nipples. When I started in
    on myself, she licked her lips and slid one hand down her pants. I really got
    going watching her do her own thing. When I was getting close, I spread the
    towel over my stomach and chest. She gave me a funny look and I just said
    “wait.”

    When I finally came, I shot three big ropes up onto my

    chest, almost to my face. She must have really enjoyed watching me, because
    just as I finished, she shuddered and came. I folded up the towel, but then
    asked her if she wanted a taste. She nodded her head and said “yes.”

     I stood up, walked over to her and jerked the last few

    drops into her mouth. She played with it for a few seconds and then swallowed
    it.

    We both got dressed and she asked me if I still wanted to do

    that homework. I told her that I thought I would be able to concentrate now.

     She laughed and said “let's go do it.”

    I had not performed for a girl before, but she must have

    been impressed and told her friends about it, because the next day in class she
    told me; “Meredith would be interested in helping you you’re your homework
    tomorrow night.”

    Kaitlin and I never got together again, but she would always

    give me the sweetest smile and occasionally direct me to another girl that she
    thought would like me.

    Meredith.

    Meredith had a different look than most of the girls at my

    school. She was a dark haired beauty, with dark eyes, pale white skin and a
    toned dancer's body. She could have easily played Wednesday Adams.

    It was not the next day as Kaitlin had implied, but one day

    at lunch, Meredith sat down across from me and said, “I heard that you could
    use some help with your homework.”

     I asked her what Kaitlin had said. Her reply was; “You

    are a sure thing.”

    I asked her what she had in mind. She said that her parents

    would be out Friday night and that she would like me to join her in the hot tub
    for an adventure. I had not been in a hot tub before, let alone in a hot tub with
    a girl, so I showed up to her house Friday night in jeans and a T-shirt with my
    swimming trunks in my hand. She said “you really don't need those, but if you
    would be more comfortable, we can start with swimsuits on.”

     I said that I thought that was best.

    She pouted a little and I said “don't worry, we will get to

    where you want to go.”

    She just said “Goody,” and showed me the bathroom. When I

    came out, she was waiting in a tiny black bikini.

    She led me outside to the hot tub and we climbed in. I sat

    down and as soon as I was settled she sat down on my lap facing me. She then
    said “we can do this the fast way or the slow way, but either way we are both
    going to cum.”

     I told her; “ I’m not in a hurry, so we can take it

    slow.”

     She said; “that would work for me.” and then leaned in to

    kiss me.

    My hands had been resting on her hips since she sat down,

    but they crept up to her ribs, and then her perky little tits, as we continued
    to kiss.

    She broke our kiss and told me; “take my bikini top off,”

    which I happily did.

     As soon as it was off, she held up one of her own tits and

    said “suck it.”

     I didn't hesitate and latched right on. She started

    grinding on my lap and then whispered in my ear "I'm not going to fuck
    you, but you're going to cum really hard."

    I didn't know what she had in mind but I liked the sound of

    it.

    Meredith stood up, stripped her bikini bottom off and sat

    back down in my lap facing away from me. She guided my left hand to her tits
    and my right hand down to her pussy. I didn't really know what I was doing, but
    she put her hand on top of mine and guided my fingers to where she wanted them.
    Once I got going, she tipped her head back onto my shoulder and started moaning
    in my ear. I must have been doing it right because she shuttered and stiffened
    in my lap. When she finally relaxed from her orgasm, she turned and kissed me
    and then told me; “ it’s your turn.”

    She told me; “stand up and take off your trunks.”

     I did and then she had me sit down in front of her. She

    pulled me into her with her left arm and reached down to stroke my cock with
    her right hand. I hadn't gotten a hand job from a girl yet, let alone a reach
    around under water. I leaned back into her and just let her do her thing. When
    she started talking dirty into my ear I knew I wasn't going to last very much
    longer.

    I told her that I was going to cum and she told me; ”stand

    up and shoot it into my mouth.”

     I just wanted her to finish me, but I wasn't going to pass

    up this chance, so I stood up in front of her and started jerking myself off.
    She sat up and opened her mouth. I leaned in and put my hand on the edge of the
    tub next to her. I got as close to her mouth as I could and fired shot after
    shot onto her waiting tongue. She took it all and swallowed it down. Just as I
    started to back away, she leaned forward and sucked the last drops off the head
    of my cock. It wasn't a blowjob, but I now knew I wanted one in the worst way.
    I sat down next to her and pulled her in tight.

    She told me not to get attached, because this wasn't likely

    to happen again anytime soon, but she would direct me to a few friends who
    would be interested in helping me with my homework.

     I leaned in to kiss her again and she gave me a sideways

    look. I said that I didn't care and pulled her up onto my lap facing me. When I
    started to get hard again underneath her, she hopped off and said “that's not
    going to happen, but the other girls will love you.”

    Sara.

    Meredith must have spread the word, because I started to get

    smiles from a lot of girls that didn't usually even look my way. I was starting
    to wonder if there was something wrong until Sara sat down next to me in class
    and asked me if I needed help with my homework.

    I said; “I wouldn't mind studying with her.” In truth, I had

    had my eye on her for years.

    Sara was my type, just over five foot tall, a big smile,

    nice teeth, brown eyes, dirty blonde hair, glasses and some of the biggest tits
    in our class. Those boobs had drawn me to her since they first popped out.

    I asked her what day she had in mind and she said “Friday

    would really be the best, because my mom has an evening shift.”

    Friday rolled around and Sara was waiting at the door for

    me. We headed out to my car and waited for the parking lot to clear out. We
    headed for her house down by the lake. It wasn't very big and there wasn't much
    in the refrigerator. I suggested that we go back out to the corner store for
    some refreshments. She gave me a sideways look and I said that I needed some
    fuel, before we would be doing any homework. She turned around and we headed
    back out the door.

    I don't really remember what we picked up for food, but I

    know that I got a bottle of Mountain Dew. We got back to her house and sat down
    for a few minutes. Apparently Meredith had talked up the fingering skills that
    I didn't know I had. Sara said that she wanted me to do for her what I had done
    for Meredith in the hot tub except that she did not have a hot tub.

    I really didn't know what the hell I was doing, so I

    suggested that were go to her room and I started by giving her a massage. She
    was a little shy and turned her back to me when she started to get undressed. I
    peeled my shirt off and waited for her. She turned to face me with her hands
    covering her tits and just a small patch of hair between her legs. I asked her
    if she had any oil or lotion and she reached for a bottle, showing me one pointy
    nipple. I told her; “lay down on your belly and I will start on your back.”

     I started at her neck and worked my way down to her calves

    spending a little extra time on her ass. I really wasn't interested in feet, so
    I stopped there.

    She rolled over with half lidded eyes and asked me to do the

    front. I started at her shoulders working on her arms and spending a lot of
    time on her tits before work my way down to her legs and skipping over her
    pussy. I moved back up and just kneaded her mound with the palm of my hand.
    When she started to squirm, I knew it was time to go a little farther. She had
    a chair near by so I sat down and told her; “come sit in my lap.”

     She sat up slowly and took some unsteady steps over to me.

    I cradled her back with my left arm and started to work my fingers into her
    with my right hand. I could only get my middle finger inside of her, so I
    started working it in and out. I slipped my finger out and split her lips so I
    could find her clit. I put my thumb on it and then slid my finger back inside
    her. Then I started working both my thumb and my finger at the same time. I
    turned my head towards her and could not resist sucking on her nipples. I got a
    good rhythm going and locked onto one of her nipples. It didn't take long and
    she shuttered and came.

    I carried her over and laid her in her bed. I started to get

    undressed and she asked me what I was doing. I said “it's my turn now.”

     She said; “I’m not very good at hand jobs.”

     I said “that’s okay; I had something else in mind.”

     She got a concerned look on her face and I said “don't

    worry, I am going to use your tits.”

     She looked relieved and confused all at the same time. I

    picked up the bottle of oil and straddled her chest. I oiled up her tits and
    laid my cock between them. I held her tits together while thumbing her nipples
    and started to fuck them.

    When I really got going, my head started to pop out the top.

    She looked down and stuck out her tongue. I wasn't going to make it inside her
    mouth, but if she kept it open, she was going to get part of my load. I sped up
    and started to bump the head of my cock on the tip of her tongue. That was just
    the added stimulation that I needed to finish and I shot three good ropes at
    her face. The first one went in her mouth and the other two hit her chin and
    pooled on her neck.

    She must have swallowed the first shot because she licked

    her lips and said “thank you.”

     I asked her what she wanted to clean up with and she said “don't

    worry about it,” as she smeared my cum all over her chest.

    I was done, although I probably could have gone another

    round. I asked her if she wanted anything else and she said “no, but you could
    join me in the shower if you want to.”

     Why not, I would love to wash those tits. I spent a lot

    more time washing her than she did me, but she gave my balls a nice fondle and
    stroked my cock a little. We dried off and got dressed. She gave me a nice kiss
    and said “see you in class on Monday.”

    Carolyn.

    Sarah must have talked to Carolyn because she sat down next

    to me at lunch one day and said if you give me a ride home today, I will help
    you with your homework. I didn't know what she had in mind, but I was game for
    just about anything.

    Carolyn was the smartest girl I knew and I think I was

    always drawn to her because of that, but she did have a tight little body with
    an amazing ass. She has blue eyes and auburn hair that she kept just below her
    ears. She didn't exactly graduate a year early, but she finished her senior
    year at the local community college.

    Carolyn was waiting for me near the main entrance after the

    bell rang. I was never in a big rush to leave the parking lot, because it was
    always a madhouse and I had almost been rear-ended a few times in the bumper to
    bumper line on the driveway. My stereo was shit, but we sat there listening to
    some music in my car until the parking lot cleared out. She lived really close
    to school, so a few minutes meant nothing.

    We got to her house and she said today is the best day

    because everyone else is out. Word must have gotten around because she led me
    to the kitchen and handed me a Mountain Dew and then offered me a sandwich. I
    accepted and she got right to work making it. She didn't make anything for
    herself, but just sat there and watched me eat. When I was done, I looked up
    and asked her what she had in mind. She said that it was time for her afternoon
    snack and that we should move to the living room.

    She told me; “get undressed and sit down,” as she removed

    her shirt and bra.

    She knelt in front of me and started rubbing my legs before

    playing with my balls and starting to stroke my cock. It didn't take long and I
    was rock hard. She leaned in and started licking up and down my shaft. Then she
    sucked the head of my cock into her mouth and swirled her tongue around the top
    of it. I knew she got a little bit of precum, but she didn't care. When she
    started bobbing up and down I reached out to put my hand on her head.

    She pulled off and told me to put my hands down. I would get

    a chance to use them later. She started bobbing again and before too long, she
    was taking everything that I had. She grabbed my balls and started fucking her
    face with my cock. I couldn't hold back and shot my load into her mouth. She
    gulped it down and kept on sucking until I went soft. She looked up, licked her
    lips and said I want a massage. I said you're going to have to give me a few
    minutes to recover. She scampered off to the kitchen and brought me another
    Mountain Dew.

    When I finished that, I said let's go. She gathered up our

    clothes and led me to her room. She stripped off her jeans and panties and
    showed me a bald little pussy. She handed me a bottle of oil and I proceeded to
    give her the same treatment that I gave Sara. When I got to her pussy she told
    me that she wanted me to finish her while she was laying down. I decided to lay
    down next to her for a better angle and more access. I started rubbing my
    finger up and down her slit until her lips parted and I could work my way in to
    find her clit.

    When I started rubbing circles around it, she started to

    squirm, so I replaced my finger with my thumb and started working my finger
    into her. I got one in and it felt like there was room for a second. When I got
    that one in, she just shivered. I started working both my finger and my thumb,
    then I leaned in to suck on a nipple. Her tits were nowhere as big as Sara's,
    but they were perky. I kept up the same rhythm until she shuttered and came
    with a little squirt.

    I was hard again and she reached down to grab my cock. She

    got her bottle of oil and lubed me up. She used both hands on my cock and balls
    and just kept working up and down, corkscrewing and swirling on the head of my
    cock. When I came, it wasn't as much as the first time, but she bent down and
    slurped it all up. I must have passed out because she was sitting up next to me
    smacking my cheek and telling me that it was time for me to leave. I got up and
    got dressed and she took me to the door where she kissed my cheek and told me
    to expect to hear from her again.

    Carrie-Ann.

    When wrestling season rolled around, we got a surprise. My

    buddy's older sister Carrie-Ann decided that she was going to wrestle. I didn't
    think much of it because I was a heavy weight and she was around 160, but I was
    wrong. All of the guys in her weight class refused to wrestle with her. She
    wasn't the prettiest girl, but what the hell, if she could wrestle with us, she
    would do better at her own weight.

    Well, she didn't do all that well with us, because I was

    usually riding her ass and when we were standing up, I had her by her wrists so
    she couldn't move. We knocked 20 pounds off of her and she wore my fingerprints
    as bruises around her wrists for a month after the season ended. I didn't mind
    wrestling with her on the mat, but I wanted to take it to my bed.

    We had a match the next night and everyone was happy to have

    an afternoon off. Because I had been spending so much time with Carrie-Ann, I
    thought nothing of asking her what she was going to be doing. She said; “I have
    some homework to do.”

     Without really thinking about it I asked; “Could you come

    over to my house and help me with an English assignment.”

     She said; “I had heard about helping you with homework,”

    and told me that I had better be ready for everything.

    The next day after school we headed for my house. She had

    driven herself to school so she followed me home. We headed inside, I dropped
    my bag and headed for the kitchen. I rummaged around for a snack and drinks.
    She was just as hungry as I was.

    Carrie-Ann wasn't the perfect girl, but I liked her

    attitude. She had worked some weight off, but she was still thick. She had long
    brown hair, but she had dreadlocked it for the season. She had bright brown
    eyes and a constant smile.

    We finished up in the kitchen and headed for my bedroom. We

    had not seen each other naked, but our hands had been everywhere, so without
    even thinking about it, we both just started getting undressed. We eye each
    other up and she said "You're going to let me be on top today."

    I grabbed her wrists and asked her if she was ready to

    wrestle for it.

     She said "No, you're just going to lay down and take

    it."

    I was game for whatever she wanted, and I lay down on my

    bed. She stood up over me on the bed and just said eat it as she dropped her
    pussy onto my face. I didn't know what I was doing, but I just started licking
    everything until I got my tongue inside and then she told me; “suck my clit.”

     I was already rock hard and sucked on her until she yelped

    and told me; “go easy.”

    I pushed her back and told her that this wasn't fair. She

    told me that I was never fair at practice. I said “how about you turn around
    and work on me while I work on you.”

    She put her hands on my chest, spun herself around and

    backed her pussy up to my face. She didn't dive right in to blow me, but she
    started playing with my balls and gently stroking my cock. I got back to her
    pussy and from this angle, I was able to spread her open with my hands and used
    my tongue on her clit. When she started to buck her hips, I drove one finger
    from each hand into her and latched down hard on her clit. She screamed and
    locked up pinning my hands between her legs. When she loosened up, she rolled
    off of me and told me that she had won that round.

    I said that she could look at it that way if she wanted to,

    but I was the one that made her cum. She said “well then, it is my turn to make
    you cum.”

     I told her to give it her best shot. What I didn't

    tell her was that I had taken care of myself that morning so that I would last
    longer with her. She started blowing me, but it was nothing like Carolyn had
    done, so I was a little disappointed. She had been down there for a while when
    she looked up at me and asked me what was taking so long. I said “if you want
    to make me cum, you're going to have to go for a ride.”

    Her eyes got wide and I reached over to grab a condom that I

    had stashed next to my bed the day before.

     I tossed it to her and told her; “climb on if you want to

    beat me.”

     She didn't hesitate, rolled it on and straddled me. I never

    expected that it would go this far, but why the hell not. She lined me up and
    lowered herself down. When she was fully seated, my jaw dropped open and she
    gave me a strange look and then said “is this your first time?”

     I nodded my head and she said; “you asshole, if I had known

    that, I would have made it better.”

    To be continued in part 2. Based on a post by reader4175,

    for Literotica.

    0 min
  • Faith: First Times
    A Good Girl Discovers Sensuality.

    By Fredly - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

    At last, Faith went to sleep Thursday night. In the early morning she awoke confused by the happening and sights of the night before. She was not sure if she had really seen her classmates, Christine and Jim; together in that alley, or had just dreamed the whole episode. As she became more awake, she began to remember making herself come and recalled the dreams that she had during the night. She recalled that most of her dreams had included an enormous erect penis floating in the air and attempting to enter pinhole size openings.

    Faith shook her head in an attempt to dislodge the visions.  The visions of the sexual activity continued to dance in her head, so she quietly got out of bed and took her shower. The hot water felt good as it cascaded down her body. The water created feelings in her similar to the feeling of the night before. As the feelings spread, she began to stroke her breasts and imagine what it would feel like if Steve, her boyfriend was caressing her

    .

    Her thoughts of him served to increase the excitement. She dropped a hand down to her mound and began to stroke her pussy. Faith quickly found her clit and rubbed herself furiously. The waves of pleasure quickly hit, and she found it difficult to remain standing. She quickly finished her shower and dressed for school.

    The small college was bustling by the time she arrived. It was a big day for the students. The rival college’s basketball team was coming into town that night for the annual showdown. When She walked down the hallway toward her first class, she thought about the past twenty-four hours. The thought of her actions in the shower that morning made her smile mischievously.

    She stopped to open the classroom door when someone grabbed her from behind. She knew that it had to be Steve. No one else would dare to sneak up behind her like that.

    "Good morning, Beautiful!" he beamed as he spun her around.

    She reached up and gave him a quick kiss and said, "Morning Handsome."

    They made some small talk about the game as she waited to go into class. Faith opened the door, and the couple went into her first class. When they reached her seat, he gave her a small kiss and turned to walk away.

    "See you at Lunch," he called over his shoulder as he hurried toward his class. That night their date started at the game, where she cheered.

    French Friday

    They spent the first few hours of the date in their usual fashion. They had gone to the game then and stopped by the local fast-food joint for a bite and a little conversation with the rest of the gang.

    Throughout the game and dinner, Faith continued to have flashbacks of the scene she saw the night before. She hoped that no one would ask her about the game because she was so distracted that she didn't think she could even recall the score.

    After leaving the restaurant, Steve suggested that they take a drive. The two of them often drove around town, talking to their friends as they cruised up and down the main street of town. Instead of the normal drive, he turned the car out of town. She was still distracted and didn't mind driving in the county. He drove around for a few minutes trying to make small talk. When she finally glanced outside and noticed that they were driving down a deserted road. Up ahead there was a small grove of trees. Steve turned the car into the grove and stopped.

    He put his arm around her and pulled her close. She scooted over and sat next to him and relaxed in the comfort of his arm. He stroked her face with his hand and talked about school, their relationship, and other small talk. She enjoyed hearing his voice and the feel of his hand on her face.

    He bent down and kissed her. She felt nervous since they had never really spent any time alone in the car like this, but she was confident that she could stop him from doing anything that she didn't want. As he continued to kiss her, she began to get the same feeling between her legs that she had experienced in the alley. He was gently rubbing her back and shoulder and slowly moved his hand down to the front of her blouse.

    She knew she should stop him, but his caresses felt too good. As long as he didn't try anything else, she decided not to remove his hand. He continued to kiss her and stroke her breast. Faith could feel her nipples harden with each caress and knew that he could feel her nipple as it pressed into his hand.

    She wondered what it would be like to have his hand inside her blouse. She tried to put that curiosity out of her mind because she had been told that good girls didn’t let a date do that. He moved his hand. At first, she felt a sense of loss and wanted him to put his hand back. Suddenly, she began to panic as Steve began to unbutton her blouse.

    "Steve, please don't! I can't let you!" she pleaded. He hesitated but continued to move his hand down her blouse, undoing the buttons.

    "Please Faith? I won't hurt you, we have been going out for so long! The other guys tell me that their girlfriends don't mind!" As he spoke, he stopped undoing the buttons and placed his hand on her bra.

    She sharply caught her breath. His hand felt so good. She knew that his hand wasn't going to harm anything if he just left it outside her bra. He began to caress both breasts through her bra as he kissed her deeply.

    As he kissed her, he slowly touched his tongue to her lips. As his tongue touched her, she opened her mouth and let his tongue run across her teeth and into her mouth. She had never French kissed anyone before, but enjoyed the feel of his tongue as it pushed into her mouth. She began to play with his tongue with hers and sucked on his tongue as it snaked in and out across her lips. Gawd, she loved this!

    He took his mouth off of hers and began to kiss down her neck. She shivered and felt as if she was floating in his arms. He continued to kiss down her neck until he reached her collarbone. She knew that he would stop soon, and they would go home. However, Steve continued to kiss along her collarbone, slowly pushing her blouse off of her shoulder.

    "God, you look beautiful!" he exclaimed as he lifted his head and stared at her bra. "Please, let me look at you?"

    She looked into his eyes and felt the same excitement that she had felt in the alley. "It's ok Steve, I’m nervous and a little scared.  But if you really think that I am beautiful, I don’t mind.”

    "God, yes! Can I kiss you here?" he asked as he grasped her breast through her bra.

    "Please Steve, don't ask! I think that we should go! I want you to, but I just can't. Please don't ask!" As she spoke, she looked down and could see his hand on her bra now that her blouse had been pushed off her shoulder. She remembered Christine begging to be touched and wanted some of that for herself.  She watched him reach into her bra and begin to pinch and stroke her nipple.

    "Oh, Steve! That feels so good," she exclaimed as she pressed her chest into his hand. She couldn't believe that those words had come out of her mouth. She thought quickly about Jim and Christine and knew that it would feel so much better if her bra was not in the way. "Oh, Steve! Don't stop," she moaned.

    She felt him moving his hand behind her back and fumbling with the catch on her bra. She subtly leaned forward to help. She wanted him to continue but didn’t want him to know how she felt. Just when she thought that she would either have to stop him or help him, she felt the catch give way. Her bra came loose, and he placed both hands on her full breasts.

    "God! What nice tits!" he said.

    "Please Steve, don't talk like that! It sounds so vulgar!"

    Steve just blew it and made her feel cheap. "But babe, they are just beautiful! I can't help it!" he croaked. She was beaming again. His words boosted her fragile confidence in her own sexuality. He was out of the doghouse almost immediately.

    She felt him fumbling to remove her blouse and bra and leaned into him, trying to help without showing her eagerness. Faith knew she should stop him, but she just couldn't. It felt too good. She felt herself being pushed back so that she was lying on the seat. Steve placed himself on top of her and kissed her nipples.

    She arched her back so that she could press more of her breast into his mouth. "Yes! That feels so good! Don't stop! Kiss the other!"

    Steve sucked her tits and she could feel the hardness between his legs as it pressed against her. Without any conscious effort, their hips began to move together. He ran his hand down her side and moved his hand in between their bodies. He pressed his hand against the front of her jeans. It felt so good, she wished it could go on forever.

    Faith felt his fingers move as they attempted to unbutton her pants. She could almost hear her parents' lectures and the shame she had been taught.   She panicked and pushed him off of her. She knew that he could not continue, but why?  She was so confused and frustrated that she felt like crying.

    Frantically she pushed him away. "Stop that! You know that I am not that kind of girl! I just can't let you go any further."  Faith’s parents’ lectures spilled out of her mouth.

    "Come on babe, stop teasing me! You can't just tease me and leave me like this! I’m so hard that I think I’ll burst! You just have to do something!" he begged. "Here, look for yourself!" he pled as he unzipped his pants.

    She could see his straining cock as it poked through his white underwear. "Stop it, Steve! Put it back in your pants! You’re being disgusting!"

    Faith turned to look away. As she turned, she took one more look at the object sticking out of his pants.  She really wanted to look but the pressure was too much.  She sucked in a breath as she froze in her internal conflict.

    "Come on Faith! Look at it! I know you want to! Here, I'll take it out so you can see it!" As he spoke to her, she glanced out of the corner of her eye and watched as he pulled his cock from his pants. He reached out and grabbed her shoulder and turned her toward him. "That's it! Look at it real closely," he encouraged.

    The tone of his voice and hands on her shoulder broke her trance.  She knew she wanted to and used his encouragement to make her decision.  She looked at his cock.  She couldn't take her eyes off his cock as it stood there hard and poking out of his pants. The erect phallus has a magical capacity to draw out a woman’s curiosity.

    "Can I touch it?" she asked as she committed to her desires. It was confusing, on one hand, she couldn’t believe that she has said those words and on the other, she really wanted to feel his cock.

    "That would be great!" he moaned. "I need some relief!"

    Oh, how she wanted his needs met.

    She slowly placed her hand on his cock. She could feel his cock pulse and twitch as she touched it.  Steve jumped and moaned as her hand came into contact with his cock.  It was so hot and firm. She loved the feel of it in her hand. She continued to rest her hand on his cock and Steve sucked in his breath.

    "Do you like my hand on you?" she purred. She instantly realized the control that she had over him when she held his cock.  She felt her pussy tighten with pleasure as she experienced this power.

    "That's good. Just run your hand around it and move your hand up and down!" he moaned.  She slowly circled her hand around the pulsing cock and explored the sensation. She could feel the slippery liquid that had oozed out of the head of his cock. Faith spread the sticky fluid around his cock, then, wrapping her fingers around it as far as she could, she moved her hand up and down. He started breathing deeper and rocked his hips, sliding his cock up and down in her hand. "That's it, baby, keep it up! Your hand feels so good! Don't stop, you're going to make me come!" he begged her to continue. "Faith, this feels so good!"

    She felt his hips flexing faster and his cock grow hotter and bigger. "Do you like it, babe? Do you like my hand on your cock?" she asked. She knew his answer before he spoke. She was getting a thrill out of talking dirty. Where did that come from?

    "Come on baby! keep going! I am coming!" he shouted.

    She felt his cock get bigger and watched as the cock twitched and began spraying her hand with what she knew to be semen. Faith watched in amazement as the white fluid kept coming out of his cock. The car was filled with the earthy scent of his cum.  As his cum stopped shooting out of his cock, he slowly relaxed and grabbed her into a tight hug. "That was the best!" he said as he kissed her.

    Faith felt exhilarated at the pleasure she had given him. She grabbed some tissue from her purse to wipe up her hands and his glorious phallus.

    They got dressed in silence. As they dressed, she couldn’t help feeling a little hurt. She had given him what he wanted, but she remained frustrated. Why did she have to stop him? Why didn't she let him put his hand in her pants? Why didn’t she let him?

    They drove home and made small talk. It was the uncomfortable chit-chat that often occurred when they both wanted to talk about what had happened but neither one of them dared to start the conversation or admit their feeling.  She couldn’t concentrate on anything he was saying, and she was certain that he was rambling on about things he didn’t want to say, just to avoid the silence of the situation.  When they got home, he walked her to the door and kissed her good night.

    Faith went inside and went to her room. As she undressed, she could feel the wetness of her panties. Faith laid down and stroked herself to sleep.  She was so frustrated that she came very quickly and saw stars as she exploded. She awoke two hours later from a vivid dream of his erupting cock. She had to change her panties once again, and go beck to sleep.

    Saturday  night depths

    The next day was Saturday. Faith slept 'till noon. When she awoke and looked at her phone, she saw a message from Steve. He had called and wanted to see her that night. She knew she loved what had happened and she wanted more.  Would she get what she wanted tonight? How did she get what she wanted without being too eager?  Quickly, she picked up the phone and called him. They made plans to go to a movie and get something to eat.

    He arrived on time that evening to take her to the movie. She was excited and could tell that he was as excited as she was about the evening. They went to the movie, as usual, pretending that this was just a usual date.  After the movie, she got into his car.  He started the car and she heard him ask, "What do you want to do tonight?"

    She knew what she wanted but reluctantly she shrugged her shoulders and replied, "Whatever you want honey!"  She hoped he would read her mind and make the decision to go to the grove.

    They drove down the street and she could tell that he was thinking about the night before.  He was trying to play it cool and pretend to casually drive around town.  She was delighted that she was able to make him so happy. Steve nonchalantly drove out of town, nervously glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.  She knew he was hoping that she wouldn’t notice or object to where they were headed.  As they drove, they both knew where they were going. In a few minutes, they found themselves back at the deserted grove of trees.

    He quickly kissed her and removed her blouse, reached behind her, and unfastened her bra.  He let out a sigh of relief that she hadn't stopped him and began sucking on her tits. She squirmed in delight as he sucked at her nipples.

    "That's it hon! keep sucking! it feels so good!" she cooed. He stopped sucking after a few minutes and sat back. He tried to subtlety indicate what he wanted.  He raised his hips, trying to persuade her to touch him. She rolled her eye.  He wasn’t as clever as he thought he was.  She knew what he wanted and decided to play along with his “persuasion.” She reached down and unfastened his pants.

    "Good!" he said "That's it! take it out!" She reached into his pants and grabbed his cock. It felt so alive. She lifted his cock out of his underwear and she could already see the moisture collecting on the head. She began to stroke and explore his cock as he signed in relief.

    She decided that tonight, she didn't want to go home frustrated. She stopped her ministrations after a few minutes.

    "Don't stop now!" he begged.

    "How about sucking on my nipples some more?" she asked. He brought her face to his and kissed her.

    "Sure, I would love to!" he chuckled. They kissed and he pulled her so that she was laying across his lap, with her head leaning against the car door. She could feel his straining cock as it pressed into her back. He kissed her neck and worked his way toward her breasts. She sucked in her breath as he kissed and nuzzled her tits.

    "Yes! Yes, that's it!" she moaned.

    He had his left arm around her back, bracing her from the car door. As he kissed her tits, he reached his hand around and began stroking her left breast as he kissed and sucked at her right nipple. He stroked her stomach with his right hand. He cautiously moved his hand lower on her stomach until he reached the top of her jeans. She felt his hand move hesitantly under the waistband of her pants. He moved his hand back and forth along her stomach, just under the material of her jeans, building up confidence, then his hand crept lower and soon was squarely between her legs. She was ready for him this time.

    She longed to have him touch her the way she had seen Jim touching Christine.

    "Please don't tease me!" she whispered. "I need to feel your hand touching my skin."

    He smiled and undid the buttons on her jeans. Steve unbuttoned all the buttons and placed his hand on her panties. She sucked in her breath as he stroked her through the thin material.

    "Baby, that feels so good!" she purred. "Don't stop!" She was so wet and knew that he could feel the cloth of the panties getting damp as he rubbed her.

    He felt the hair that surrounded her mound and ran his finger down the crease in the center of her mound. She almost lifted her hips clear off of the seat as she felt his finger stroke her through her panties. She rocked her hips into his finger.  He then reached up higher and placed his hand inside the band of her panties.

    "Go on!" she encouraged him. He pushed his hand under her panties and down onto her pussy.  He explored her mound and ran his fingers through the patch of hair surrounding her cunt. He stroked her and felt her pussy lips opening and he could feel the moisture seeping out of her.

    "God, you're wet!" he said as he ran his hand down between the lips of her cunt and into her opening.

    "Yes! Yes, that's it, rub right there!" she begged. He felt her becoming slicker and opening up as he ran his hand along the slit into her pussy. She jumped as he touched her clit. "Rub harder, come on baby! make me come!"

    "Lift your hips so I can get your pants off!" he said as he rubbed her clit.

    “Stop talking and help me cum! You can feel enough already!" she groaned as she rubbed her hips back and forth on his finger.

    "It would be a lot nicer for you if I didn't have to fight with these damn pants!" he whispered as he continued to circle his finger on her clit, dipping a finger into her pussy.

    "You're doing great just as you are! Rub harder! I'm coming!" she cried "Uhn! Uhn! yea baby, more! Yes! yes! yes!" she screamed, and her body tightened as she rubbed herself against his finger. She continued to groan and writhe as she felt the waves of her orgasm.

    She started to relax, and she could feel the rock-hardness of his cock poking into her back. She turned to look at the bulge poking out of his pants and started to his cock. While laying in his lap, it was awkward to try and stroke his cock, so she hopped back to her side of the car and continued to explore his cock.

    "Yes, baby that's it! Do it like you did last night!" he moaned. She opened his pants farther and exposed more of his cock.  She teased his cock as he moaned in delight. "God, Faith that feels great! Put your hand around it and move your hand up and down!" She grabbed his cock and wrapped her hand around it.

    "Steve, it's so big! I can't get my hand around it!" she said, still surprised at the size. She knew what she wanted to do with it, but wanted him to say it.

    "Just do like you are babe! it feels damn good!" She continued to stroke his cock and spread the leaking come around his cock as it dripped out of the tip of his cock.

    She bent down closer to his cock to have a good look at the rock-hard shaft. As she bent down, she couldn't resist sticking her tongue out and licking the head of his cock. He jumped and let out a deep moan, and she felt his body jerk with excitement.

    "Did you like that hon?" she asked, hoping he’d be grateful and ask for more of the same.

    "God, yes do it some more!" he begged.

    She stuck out her tongue and licked the head again. She could taste the saltiness of the come and enjoyed the feel of his cock on her tongue. She lowered her head and ran her tongue all the way to the base of his cock.

    "Yea Baby, lick my cock!" he crooned. "That's it! Lick up and down! Yes, you're doing it great!"

    She smiled at herself and could feel his hips flexing in time to her licking. "Do you want me to put it in my mouth?" she asked.

    "Oh God! would you? It would feel so great!" he moaned. She opened her mouth in an "O" and put her mouth over the tip of his cock. As it entered her mouth, she could feel him jump and could feel his cock twitch and throb. It felt so alive. She felt so empowered for having such control of his sexual satisfaction.

    "Gawd, baby! Take it deeper and suck on it!"

    She lowered her head, took more of his cock into her mouth, and began to suck on it. She held it still in her mouth exploring the taste and feel.

    She felt his hips moving up and down, trying to get her to move on his cock. In response, she began a slow movement with her mouth taking in about an inch of his cock.

    "That's it, babe, move your mouth more! Take it into your mouth!"

    She was afraid she would gag on the thickness as she tried to take more of it into her mouth, but she slowly lowered her head as she took two, three then four inches into her mouth. She enjoyed the feel and taste as he moaned and began to breathe faster. She lifted her mouth to the tip of his prick and lowered her wet mouth until she had taken almost all of his rod into her mouth.

    She felt his cock entering the back of her throat and resisted the impulse to gag. Once the initial gag impulse was gone, she found that she could take another inch into her mouth.

    "God, baby! That's it you almost have it all! Suck me a little deeper!" he groaned.

    He put his hand on her head and she felt him push her head farther down on his thick cock. She attempted to say "no" but couldn't get the word out around the thick cock in her mouth. He must have heard her making a noise and stopped pushing on her head.

    As he let up, she moved her mouth up to the tip of his cock.  When her mouth was at the head of his cock, he pushed down on her head and flexed his hips, driving his cock into her mouth. The two lovers started a rhythm with her mouth moving up and down his cock as he thrust into her. She loved the feel of him flexing his hips and using her mouth for his pleasure. She continued to move her mouth the length of his cock. She continued to suck, and he began to moan and repeat her name. His cock became hotter and thicker in her mouth. She wondered what she was going to do when he came.

    She lifted her head. "What do I do when you come?"

    "You can spit it out or just swallow it! But don't stop to talk about it! Just keep sucking!"

    He pushed her mouth back down onto his cock and she decided that it didn't taste bad.  She would just hold it in her mouth and decide what to do at that time. She lowered her mouth on his throbbing member as they started the up-and-down rhythm. He pushed on her head faster and thrust his hips harder.  She kept her mouth moving up and down in a rhythm with his hand, going faster and faster. The motion got faster, his hips thrusting harder.  More of his cock was going into her mouth.

    She felt the head of his cock pressing deep against her throat and was surprised that she was not gagging. She relaxed as the thickness slid in and out of her mouth. On the next down stroke, she fully relaxed and felt her nose pressing against his stomach.  She had all of his cock in her mouth and throat. Once she had his whole cock in her mouth and she kept her mouth down around the base of his cock as he let up the pressure on her head. Now that she had him all the way in, she didn't want to move so she could savor the feel of his cock.

    "Gawd, babe! I can’t believe you have it in your throat! You’re a natural-born fellacionado!" he cried. She could hear the pride in his voice. "Gawd, I am going to come! Don't move, let me come down your throat!" he yelled.

    She felt his hand holding her head down and could feel his cock swelling as the first pulse of cum raced down his cock and into her throat. She almost choked on the quantity of cum being expelled into her throat. She withdrew halfway to catch her breath. As she withdrew, the second and third volleys of cum shot into her mouth. She quickly swallowed and dove back down onto the throbbing rod. She took it all back in as he continued to pump semen down her throat. Each successive pulse was weaker and weaker. Steve slumped in exhaustion as he stopped cumming.

    She could still feel his cock throbbing as she milked his prick dry with her mouth. And she didn’t have to use napkins anymore!

    "That was the best!" he said as he raised her head and kissed her. Steve could taste his cum on her lips, As they kissed. The lights of a car could be seen in the distance. They quickly dressed and arranged themselves. The other car continued down the road past them, as they let out a sigh of relief. Steve started the car and drove toward her house in silence. Tonight the drive home wasn’t awkward at all! They were both fully sated and contemplative.

    In less than an hour, Faith went from near total ignorance in cock skills, to being a fully-trained, advanced throating goddess. When they reached her house, he got out and opened her door. The couple walked hand in hand to her door. He gave her a quick good-night kiss and promised to call her the next day. He drove home in a heavenly state of bliss, having experienced a treat that rarely a man ever experiences.

    She quickly went up to her room and fell into a sound sleep. She didn’t need to worry whether Steve thought she was too ‘easy’. Three months of prudishness established that she respected herself. Tonight proved that she has the selfless capacity to be a great lover. A Generous and devoted lover. Tonight she slept well, in the confidence of her new-found sexual pleasures.

    Relaxing on a Sunday

    Faith awoke the next morning to the sound of her family moving around downstairs. She could hear her parents talking with her younger brother and sister. She could hear them talking about going on a Sunday drive. Just then her mom called up to her to wake up, and asked if she was "coming?" She laughed at the phrase understanding the play on words.

    "Not right now!" she yelled, noticing the dryness and pain in her throat.  She knew that she would have a sore throat after all the rough pounding it took last night.  The pain in her throat sent an erotic jolt through her body.

    She couldn't stand the thought of spending all day in a car with her family. She got out of bed, put on her bathrobe, and went downstairs.

    "Mom, I just can't go today, I have too much homework," explained Faith. She hoped that they would buy the excuse and just leave her alone.

    "Well, if that's what you want, we will just have fun without you." said her mom as she packed the picnic lunch.

    "We should be gone until about dark, be careful here by yourself." said her father as she walked back up the stairs. She crawled back in bed and listened as her family got in the car and pulled out of the drive.

    Faith lay in bed for a few more minutes, then went into the bathroom and took a nice long shower. As she stepped out of the shower and began to dry off, her phone rang. It was Steve on the line.

    "Steve, how are you?" Faith beamed.

    "I was just calling to see what you were doing?" Steve answered with eagerness.

    "I just got out of the shower and am standing here dripping wet!" Faith knew that her word picture would turn Steve on.

    "Are you standing there naked? Or are you ‘wet’” Steve inquired. “I would love to come over and see that."

    "You can't right now, I have some homework to do and some other shit to get done before school tomorrow." She knew she was being a cock-tease, now. Gawd this is so fun!

    "Please, I need to see you!" Steve begged.

    Cha Ching! It worked like a charm. She’s got him so horny that he’ll do anything for a release.

    She thought for a moment and made a decision. "Ok, No one is home right now, so if you hurry, I can see you before they get home." Faith never bothered to tell him they have a 6-hour window to themselves. She just wanted him now! Truth is, she’s even hornier than he is, but don’t let Steve know that.

    "I'll be right there, see ya in a minute!" he hung up the phone and she could feel her legs getting weak and could feel a tingling building up in her pussy.

    She sat down on her bed, waiting in anticipation for him to arrive. As she sat there, she decided to get dressed in something sexy to surprise him. She started to look in the closet for the perfect outfit.

    As she sorted through the clothes, she decided that she couldn't go through with dressing too sexy. Steve might get the wrong idea and think that she was too easy. In addition, her mom had never let her by anything that would be at all revealing. But the real reason is that she was so obsessed with her own horny passions that she couldn’t be bothered to deal with clothes. About all she did was make her bed and pick up around her bedroom. As she sat naked on her bed, daydreaming about her schemes for the afternoon, she heard him drive up.

    She quickly threw on her satin dressing robe over her naked body and went downstairs to answer the door. She opened the door and he stepped inside, grabbed her, and kissed her hard. The satin robe did nothing to contain her protruding hard nipples. She was horny and decided not to hide it anymore.

    She felt the kiss weaken her knees. They quickly closed the front door before any of the prying neighbors saw them standing in the door with just her robe on. As quickly as the door closed, he grabbed Faith and began to kiss his way down her neck. He pushed her back and she was forced back against the wall of the entry by his attack.

    She was unable to retreat any further from the kisses and could feel the hardness in his pants pressing against her. He placed his hand under her ass and lifted her lightly from the ground.

    She was excited as she hung in the air, pinned against the wall by his thrusting hips. With her arms wrapped over his shoulders, she spread her legs and wrapped her ankles around his waist.  She twerked her hips back against his pelvis. The excitement continued to build as they thrust their tongues deeply into each other’s mouth. He placed his hands inside her robe and she pushed him away.

    "Stop! We can't do this in front of the door where the neighbors can see!"

    The implied admission in her protest was that; ‘Oh yes! We will do this, and we will do this in better accommodations than the wood floor in the entry’.

    Faith never did get dressed for Steve’s visit, because she never wanted to get dressed. The message was obvious and even Steve picked up all the clues.  They didn’t talk about it. They just did it.

    By Fredly  For Literotica

    34 min
  • The Mail-order Space Bride.
    The Mail-order Space Bride.
    He had to wait five years for her.

    Based on a post by Farmer

    jill. Listen to the Podcast at My First Time.



    Forward:

    This story is about a first time, two virgins no less. However, the setting is
    in a dystopian future. If sci-fi is not your thing, you might still like this.
    Be brave.

    Many are

    fascinated by the concept of the "mail order bride." It still occurs
    today, but with instant communications, etc., it is not as interesting or
    romantic as back in the "good old days" of the American Wild West.
    Maybe this will happen again one day in the future, who knows?

    Marco’s Day of Choosing

    Marco Mendes finished climbing until he reached the top of

    the hill. It wasn't a mountain or even a very tall hill, those were for the
    rich. He wanted one last look around at his part of the Rio-Paulo Metropolitan
    Area before he left. Colloquially known as Rio Paolo or Super Favela. Marco had
    been told that Rio Paolo had over 150 million inhabitants. Rio Paolo is a city
    in what used to be the old country of Brazil. Not that long ago, Brazil had
    that many people in the whole country. He couldn't confirm this because there
    was no longer access to the internet, nor were there things called
    "encyclopedias." The old timers talked about being able to
    "google" anything on the internet, but that was before the changes.
    Now only the rich could "google" things if that even still existed.
    Books didn't exist at all. Everything was on screens, and the screens only
    showed what was allowed by the ‘Corporate Council’.

    Since the changes what could you find out? The screens

    everywhere gave you the weather, news, and, of course, sports. Yet you couldn't
    ask the screens questions, and everyone knew you couldn't always trust what was
    on the screens. You could trust the weather and the sports, but the news not at
    all. However, Marco was about to leave the Rio Paolo, and Earth behind for Orion
    6A. Rumor had it that once he boarded the spaceship he would get to use the
    internet. Marco would believe it, and all the other stories; when he saw it.

    Yet Marco had to give it a try. He looked down at the Super

    Favela and all its misery. In centuries past, they were called shanty towns.
    But Super Favela was a massive city of shacks.

     They didn't starve, but the food was bland and of

    questionable origin. They had homes, but they were small and uncomfortable,
    especially when it rained. They had each other, but what did that mean?

    Dreams of Marriage.

     A family of your own seemed like an eternity away. It was a

    process of 10 years, to apply for a wife! Maybe you wouldn't get approval.

    Marco wasn't interested in casual sex. He wanted a family,

    and that would take 11 years here in the Rio Paulo or anywhere on Earth. That
    was only if it was approved and he survived. Most of the jobs for men like him
    were dangerous, especially at first. No one seemed to care if young men died.

    Tomorrow was his 18th birthday. The official Day of Choosing

    a vocation. Marco had already chosen last week. The options were pretty
    limited, but you had to take one, or they picked for you. Marco had heard some
    places on Earth there was no choice, you were just assigned something. Other
    places used an aptitude test like the one Marco had taken. Marco had done the
    aptitude test at age 16, like everyone else. He was not selected for
    "streaming.' Marco was not going to be an athlete, nor was he smart enough
    for university, that's where the streaming took you. Oh, and of course, if you
    were really good-looking, you were also "streamed." Streamlined right
    into someone, or multiple someones’ bed. Yet that mostly happened to the girls.
    A guy had to be a real stunning hunk to be streamed; and Marco was not.

    Then there was the security force. You didn't get to choose

    them, they chose you; and then you left old Brazil. You would be trained and
    stationed somewhere else to keep other people in line. Just like to the
    cold-hearted bastards who patrolled the Rio Paolo. They rotated them through,
    frequently; 6 months to a year, and another group arrived. You could tell they
    were different because their English would have a different accent than yours
    and the last bunch.

    Like most boys in Rio Paolo, Marco wanted to play football (Americans

    used to call it soccer.) he had no interest in university, even if he made the
    grades. Marco wasn't that great at school, nor football.

    What were the choices open to Marco? He could stay in Rio

    Paolo, and be chosen for a job. That job could be anything from a factory
    worker to a ditch digger. Low pay, no hope for advancement, and a ten-year wait
    to apply to get married. He could go to the Amazon and work on a mine or farm,
    but the only difference with that would be the location. Hard labor, high
    chance of injury. Yes, there were softer jobs, but first you had to pass
    through the hard ones.

    Then there were the off-world options. The jobs were

    dangerous, and you would never see Earth again. However, the pay was high, the
    benefits were good, and you could order a bride after only 5 years. No applying
    for marriage, nope, you just ordered a bride, and when she arrived, you were
    married. What would you know about your mail-order bride? You would see her
    picture and where she was born. You also knew she was 18 years old. That was an
    option for women when it was their "Day of Choosing." The bride also
    would show up without the "shot." Every woman from puberty was given
    the "shot." It prevented pregnancy and was re-administered every year.
    The government would not tolerate pregnancy among the unmarried.

    The problem was the effect of the shot was cumulative. If Marco

    stayed on Earth and had to wait the ten years to request a marriage to an
    agreeable woman. She would probably be about the same age as you. No
    18-year-old brides on Earth. The woman would have had at least 15 years of
    shots by the age of 28, and the chance of conception was rare for at least 2
    years. You are allowed a six-year window to have children, so the timeline was
    tight. Few couples had two children, many only one, and too often there were
    none. Yet those were the rules. Trying to circumvent or worse, fight them was
    not an option. The cold-hearted bastards would show up, and you would never be
    seen again.

    How did Marco know all of this? The old timers of course;

    told their tales. Much of it Marco believed to be true. Then there was the
    communication from cousins and friends who had left after the day of choosing.
    They sent back tales of their new lives. The people who stayed in the same area
    also told their tales of work and lives since choosing. Finally, there was what
    you saw with your own eyes. People who tried to move in together and therefore
    be illegally married who were taken away. People who spoke out about the changes;
    just disappeared, without a trace. Sometimes, if you were up late at night, you
    could see the armored vehicles come and disappear someone. Actions of the
    Corporate Council. No trial, no conviction.

    Once, Marco's family had a neighbor man who moved the woman

    he wanted to marry, into his house, without waiting 10 years or asking
    permission. Permission would never have been granted, and they only lived
    together for 10 days. Marco was up early on day 11,and he saw the couple taken
    away. The cold-hearted security bastards of the Corporate Council showed how
    they earned the reputation that morning. Marco watched the couple be beaten as
    they were dragged into the vehicle. There was blood on the ground, and everyone
    tried to ignore it, until the rain washed it away days later.

    Marco had opted for off-world. He had chosen working for

    Impact Mining. They were an off-world conglomerate that owned all the mining
    rights to Orion 6A. Marco would learn the people who lived there, called the
    planet Eldorado. He would learn all about Eldorado, and a great many other
    things; once on the spaceship.

    Marco took one more look around at Rio Paolo. The misery was

    oppressive. 150 million people going through the motions of living. Marco
    didn't know how many rich people lived in RP. Their lives were definitely
    different, and the 150 million knew it! On the day of choosing, you couldn't
    get a position cleaning, or cooking, or what have you, for those rich. Later
    you were recruited to those positions, once you had served your time in your
    job of "choosing." There actually was a fair amount of opportunity to
    change jobs at that time, but they were still low-paying, and had no future.

    Marco shook his head and then went back home. His parents

    were having the traditional "Day of Choosing" party for him. Marco's
    would be more poignant because he was going away forever. It was a somber
    affair and Marco said his goodbyes. He would be gone very early in the morning
    to catch the shuttle to the moon and his spaceship.

    Space Travel, Internet, And History.

    The rumors about the internet would turn out to be true! Marco

    spent much of his time in transit to Eldorado learning how much he didn't know.
    The trip would take three months, and it was notable for the food and the
    internet. Marco would not believe the variety and the taste of the food! It was
    all 'cooked' not just bland reheated packages. When he entered that ship it was
    a revelation to Marco, and he was told it would get better on Eldorado.

    The internet, or more precisely, Marco learned, the ship's

    computer network had a huge 'database' of information for Marco to absorb. Of
    course, Marco didn't have access to everything, but he did have access to more
    than he could imagine. Marco learned about the 'Changes' and how that
    transformed the world, including his homeland of Brazil. It was a time of war,
    chaos, and fear. The resulting political consolidation by the world's large
    corporations and simultaneous population boom led to the "Day of
    Choosing" and the Metropolitan Areas. The population needed to be
    contained, otherwise it would overrun the farmland required to feed it.

    No one seemed to know what sparked the trouble that resulted

    in the Changes. The consensus was that the pressure from overpopulation, unfair
    distribution of wealth between nations, and government measures to stop yet
    another plague; boiled over. Wars and civil wars erupted all over the Earth.
    Genocides occurred, as well as plenty of destruction. Much of Africa and Asia
    was a bloodbath. Europe's unity shattered. North and South America saw a series
    of coups, and counter-coups, as well as war. When the dust cleared, five years
    later, the world was now run by the corporations; the Corporate Council by name.
    Lead by the arms industry, they consolidated power by monopolizing the control
    of weapons, food, and fuel. The other corporations gladly joined them and after
    a few more years their power was unmatched in human history.

    The population of the Earth was pushed into

    "metropolitan areas" based on the old distribution of population. The
    areas were shrunk though and the areas outside them were for commodity
    extraction or agriculture. There also were large swaths of land set aside as
    reserves to offset the climate changes. Travel was highly restricted between
    the areas and that was mostly by air. The roads and rail lines that were kept
    were for the movement of materials. The other roads, small towns and cities
    were destroyed or abandoned to return them to nature.

    Eldorado Hardships

    When Marco arrived at Eldorado he didn't have anymore time

    to think about what he learned, as he was assigned the most dangerous job on
    the planet. It was the job of capturing mineral laden meteors as they
    approached the planet. If you could grab them before they entered the
    atmosphere the mineral payload was better. The trick was not being smashed to
    bits by the meteors or having the meteor's breach your ships integrity and
    dying of asphyxiation. This was normal and Marco knew he would spend a year in
    this or a similar job. Over a third of those assigned would be killed and
    another third injured in someway. No one even called him Marco, he was just
    J-9870112, his company ID number. Yet when the year was up, Marco went to work
    in the refinery and his life changed. He now was Marco. Out of the temporary
    barracks into the permanent apartments. He made friends, worked hard, and
    waited.

    Communication back to Earth was possible but not easy. Only

    the rich or the company could get instant communication back to Earth. The rest
    of the people had to send mail. You could buy a video cube, record yourself,
    and your family could watch it. You could write or type an actual letter on
    paper and put it in an envelope. The bottom line is that it has to be a
    physical object that can be loaded on the cargo ship. There is plenty of room
    for a letter on those massive ships. They come here mostly empty, mostly things
    that could not be made on Eldorado. Then the ships would leave full of
    processed ore. A ship arrived every 3 months.

    Placing an order for a woman.

    Impact was a good company to work for. They let Marco put in

    his request for a mail order bride on the cargo ship 3 months early. Some
    companies made you wait the full 5 years before you could put in your request.
    This way she would come 3 months earlier, a real bonus. There was plenty of
    joking about the idea of a 'mail order bride." Marco researched it on the
    computer, and it came from 19th century America on Earth. From what he read, he
    was not surprised that it happened. Men get lonely out on the frontier. Men
    also got in way more trouble the greater the ratio of men to available women.
    Eldorado didn't have enough of a population base to produce enough eligible
    surplus women. There was also no "Day of Choosing" on Eldorado.
    People could freely choose what to work at and whom to marry, when they felt
    like it. There were no age restrictions and the "shot" was voluntary.

    Marco had looked through the catalogues of women for a month

    before finding the girl he wanted. He didn't know what it was about her, that
    struck him. But he knew he wanted her from the moment he saw her. Her name was Angela
    Stemple, and she was born in a place called Bridgewater in the Eastern Seaboard
    Metropolitan Area. He researched it, and the people there call it the BBA,
    short for the Big Big Apple. The BBA, of course had the world's capital in it,
    New York City. Where else would the corporations want the headquarters?

    From what Marco could see in the picture, Angela was not

    very tall but evenly proportioned. He printed off a picture of her for his wall
    at home and his workplace at the refinery. Marco's mail order spent 3 months in
    transit to Earth and his mail order bride spent 3 months traveling to Eldorado.
    All Marco thought about besides being safe at work, was Angela; for those 6
    months. He dreamed of her and talked to his friends about her. His married
    friends told him about their mail-order bride experience. His friends, awaiting
    their own bride, commiserated on the wait. It would all be worth it, all his
    friends said.

    The Group Wedding Event

    The day before the cargo ship arrived, Impact started the

    preparations for the bride's arrival. The best hotel in Barkerville, (Joe Baker
    was the name of a former CEO.) was reserved in its entirety for the event. The
    meeting of brides would occur in the grand ballroom. There would also be the
    wedding ceremony. A banquet would then be held in the revolving restaurant on
    top of the hotel. Finally, the best fifty rooms would be given to the 50
    newlywed couples, for the night. The actual bridal suit would be given to one lucky
    couple in a draw at the banquet. Impact also gave all of their newly-married
    workers the week off with pay, to settle in with their new wives.

    Marco finished his shift the next day at four. He went home

    and showered, shaved, and put on his new suit. He was so nervous he could
    hardly button his shirt up. He then went to the hotel, arriving at 5:30. Most
    of the other future husbands were already there, helping themselves to some ‘liquid
    courage’ at the free bar. Marco opted for water. He seldom drank alcohol. To
    him, it just led to trouble. On Eldorado most of the miners who arrived, spent
    their first few years drinking and whoring. Not Marco, for one thing, he was a
    virgin, and the second thing was he dreamed of being 'middle class.'

    Marco had learned about this on the internet and most the

    people on Eldorado would be considered middle class. They owned their own
    homes, could do the job they wanted, and could have kids who would never have a
    Day of Choosing. Marco had been saving all of his paychecks to buy a house for
    his mail-order bride. Others would spend years in the company apartments
    because they partied their money away. Marco didn't regret his decision to
    remain a virgin, he had been raised Catholic; and the prostitutes in
    Barkerville were expensive. Marco also wanted his first time with Angela to be
    extra special.

    Angela, meanwhile; was just getting into the coach bus to

    take her to the hotel. She had spent the last four hours after getting off the
    cargo ship at the spa. Impact paid for all of the mail order brides to get the
    full package. Next door to the spa was a high-end ladies clothing store. Angela
    was wearing a beautiful new dress from the store, complete with new lingerie
    underneath. Impact paid for that as well. Angela felt like Cinderella going to
    the ball.

    Marco and the other men were getting anxious. Some were

    drinking too much out of nervousness. Some were telling jokes with their
    friends, to kill the time. Marco was just standing alone, drinking some water,
    thinking about Angela.

    Marco was startled when it was announced that the brides had

    arrived. All of the men eagerly turned toward the large double doors of the
    hall. Music started playing in the background. Of course it was 'here comes the
    bride." Two Impact men moved toward the doors and opened them at the same
    time. First in line was the marriage commissioner, but no one looked twice at
    him. All eyes were on the lovely ladies behind him. The women followed the
    commissioner into the room, nervously trying to find their groom.

    Angela was looking at the group of men, but could not find Marco.

    She had posted his picture on the wall in her cabin on the ship and was
    positive she would recognize him. She started to worry he was not there.
    Something bad had happened while she was in transit. All kinds of dark thoughts
    filled her mind. This did happen sometimes. Meanwhile Marco had spotted Angela.
    She was even more beautiful in real life, than her picture. Since Marco was not
    with the main group, she still couldn't see him and started to panic.

    Marco moved forward, toward Angela, and then she saw him. He

    looked like a dream come true. She was captivated. She was so enthralled with Marco
    she couldn't move, but soon he was before her. Marco stopped just outside of
    her personal space. He was drinking her in, and she was doing the same with
    him.

    "I am pleased to finally meet you Angela, you are

    better in person, than in my dreams."

    Angela could barely hear his words; her heart was beating so

    loudly. She knew he had said something, and tried to find her voice,

    "Marco."

    That was all she could get out. Then Marco held out his hand

    for her, and she took it in her own.

    "May I kiss you Angela?"

    Angela couldn't form words, so she simply nodded, ‘yes.’

    Marco gently pulled on her hand and Angela moved forward her

    face looking upward at the taller man. Marco slowly brought his mouth down on
    hers. Her lips were so soft as he kissed her. He started to pull back but then
    went in for another kiss. Angela couldn't believe she was finally kissing a man
    who wasn't related to her. She wanted more and used her free hand to pull Marco's
    head closer. Their tongues both had the same idea at the same time and met in
    the middle of the kiss.

    Like many of the couples Marco and Angela were oblivious to

    everything and everyone but themselves. Their kiss deepened and they moved
    closer together. Marco felt Angela melt into his arms and knew it had been
    worth the wait. Angela felt Marco's strong arms around her and felt a level of
    peace and comfort she had never felt before. It seemed like an eternity, but in
    reality it was only minutes before the spell was broken. The marriage
    commissioner was calling them together for the service.

    The world government back on Earth didn't care what kind of

    marriage "service" that people had. They controlled the process by
    awarding the marriage license. Once you received that, you were married as far
    as the government was concerned. Many couples didn't have any kind of service.
    Few could afford honeymoons, especially those on Earth, so most couples just
    moved in together and that was it. Maybe a small party. On Eldorado Impact
    liked to have a service. It mimicked what the locals did, and marriage
    ceremonies were important. Impact wanted happy workers. Happy workers tended to
    be good workers, and this event was a small price to pay for that.

    The couples gathered before the marriage commissioner. He

    opened the service with prayer and then read from the Bible. They sang a song
    about marriage, and then the commissioner had a short meditation on marriage
    and love. Then each couple was called forward to do their vows. Marco and Angela
    walked forward holding hands. They only let go of each long enough to place the
    rings on. When Marco kissed her, all of the other couples clapped, and then,
    holding hands, they stepped back so the next couple could move forward. The
    service ended with a short prayer and a blessing over the newly married.

    Leaving the Banquet Early

    Marco and Angela enjoyed the meal but did not want to stay

    for the dancing. Before the dance began, however, the HR director from Impact
    drew the name of the lucky couple that would get the bridal suite for the
    night. This was supposed to be a random draw, but the HR director believed it
    should go to the best worker as recognition for their service. He lost the
    discussion in the boardroom but that didn't stop him from rigging the draw. Marco
    was by far the best worker getting married that day, and it was only natural
    that he and his bride received the suite.

    Winning the suite made Marco and Angela even more eager to

    leave. They gave their thanks to the HR manager for everything, and adjourned
    to the bridal suite. Marco and Angela may have been virgins, but they did have
    some very good advice going into their wedding consummation. Angela's mother
    and aunts had made sure she was ready for what might happen on her wedding
    night. The main points boiled down to three rules:

    Rule 1,  go slow, tell him

    what you like, and don't like.

    Rule 2, try anything and

    everything, but remember rule 1.

    Rule 3, enjoy yourself.

    Marco, on the other hand, had thought about his first time

    quite a bit. He had wondered about porn, yes the internet on Eldorado was full
    of porn. Yet all those moans of pleasure and crazy positions seemed unreal to
    him. He decided he would ask married women he knew what he should do with his
    new bride. As you can imagine, this was a little awkward. How do you bring up
    losing your virginity with your friend's wife? Who would even believe he was
    still a virgin? Marco was lucky. His friend Martin's wife, Natasha, thought
    that it was a great idea. She felt it her duty to make sure Marco was good to
    his new wife and had four other married friends who met with Marco a few times
    in a coffee shop.

    To say it was a flood of information would be an

    understatement! Trying to get a drink from a fire hose would be a better
    description. "Don't do this, do that; try this, but not that; and on and
    on. Marco was trying to take notes, but pretty soon he gave up. One wife said;
    “Don't force her to swallow if she gives you a blow job.” Another one says; “No
    anal no way!” Yet another says; “Anal is great! just use plenty of lube and go
    slow.”

    Obviously, some of the advice was contradictory but Marco

    felt he learned a lot. What Marco gleaned from his experience, he distilled
    into a few points and then asked Natasha what she thought.

    Take it slow, very slow. Ask her if she likes what is

    happening. Make sure she cums before you do.

    Natasha thought that Marco was on the right track. She added

    that sex was a voyage of discovery that Marco and Angela would be on together.
    They needed to do it for each other and enjoy the journey.

    When Marco and Angela entered the room, they both were

    trembling with anticipation. Marco held the door open for Angela, and she
    gasped in awe.

    "Marco this is incredible!"

    Marco took in the palatial suite. To the left he could see a

    bathroom bigger than his family home back on Earth. Then he could see through a
    double doorway to a huge bed. Next was a massive Jacuzzi tub, mini bar and
    whole seating area with a sofa and chair. Everything was immaculate with fresh
    flowers in the vases and champagne in a bucket chilling by the sofa.

    "It is amazing but not as amazing as you." Marco

    swooned her.

    Marco then turned to her and kissed her softly on the lips. Angela

    had a surge of something she had never felt before; flash through her body and
    stop at her ‘lady garden.’ Angela leaned in and kissed Marco back, not just a
    gentle kiss, but laced with passion. Marco felt a surge of blood to his groin.
    His cock tented in his pants, as Angela moved more into their embrace. There
    was no way that she didn't feel it. The kiss deepened as their passion built.

    Marco wanted to just tear her dress off and get inside of Angela,

    but Marco remembered the advice. Angela wanted the same thing, but also didn't
    want to blow it on their first time. Take it slow. The wives had told Marco
    that foreplay was critical, so he should kiss and touch his bride all over, but
    not directly on her breasts or vagina. Marco began to do so, putting his hand
    behind her head and teasing her hair. His other hand slowly moved down her back
    to her shapely ass.

    Angela was loving the feelings and moaned into Marco's

    mouth. She wanted to touch Marco as well, but she wanted to touch his skin. She
    slowly moved to take his suit jacket off. Marco continued to tease her hair as
    he pulled Angela in tighter, and tentatively probed her mouth with his tongue.
    Immediately, Angela's tongue met his, and they began to slowly French kiss. The
    passion continued to build as Angela finished taking Marco's jacket off.

    Marco could not believe how excited he was. Five long years

    of working on the edge of the universe had left him with him expectations. He
    had played out this meeting with his new bride, a thousand times. Yet this was
    so much better than he ever expected. Marco thought he might pass out because
    all his blood must now be in his cock it was so hard.

    Angela could not believe what she was feeling. They had

    dressed her in this lacey wisp of a thong, and she could feel herself, not just
    soaking it, but seeping through it. She wondering if it was running down her
    leg. Angela then had a dirty inspiration,

    "Marco I'm so ready for you! Feel how ready I am for

    you."

    Marco was confused. He could tell she was excited for him,

    but was unsure what she wanted him to feel. He could already feel her nipples
    poking his chest as they kissed. He wanted to show her how excited he was for
    her, but didn't want to ruin the moment. Angela sensed his indecision and
    pulled his hand away from the delightful things he was doing to her ass cheeks.

    "Right here, Marco, feel how ready I am for you."

    Her dress was not slutty, but it was fairly short. Angela

    easily guided Marco's hand to her soaked panties. She pressed Marco's hand to
    her trimmed mound. Marco couldn't believe how damp her crotch was. The wives
    had told him this was a great sign that he was doing the right things. He
    instinctively moved his finger over her slit through her panties.

    "Oh, Marco, oh, that is amazing."

    Angela panted out her appreciation for Marco's efforts. Marco

    in turn, continued to rub her slit and could not believe that amount of fluid
    that was coating his fingers and hand. Angela couldn't concentrate on anything
    other than Marco's fingers. She wanted more.

    "Marco undo the zipper of my dress."

    Angela then reluctantly turned her back to Marco, her vagina

    begging for Marco's hand not to stop, as it wanted more attention. Marco slowly
    started to slide her zipper down and decided to follow it with small kisses
    down her back. Angela's moans of pleasure spurned him on, and as he reached the
    end of the zip Angela shrugged her shoulders, so the dress fell to the floor. Marco
    continued kissing until he hit the top of her ass. He could smell her desire.
    He wanted to keep going down; kissing her rosebud, and then her vagina, but
    resisted. He had to take it slow. Build up the passion. So instead, he began
    kissing back up Angela's back while running his hands up her sides.

    Angela thought she would pass out from all of the lovely

    sensations she was feeling. Her tits longed to be touched. Her nipples were so
    stiff. When Marco caressed the sides of her tits through her bra, she couldn't
    keep from moaning. Marco took this as permission to unclasp her bra. As it fell
    to the floor Marco kissed the back of Angela's neck. This was definitely one of
    her erogenous zones, the pleasure of his kisses was exquisite.

    Marco started at Angela's waist and slowly moved his hands

    up her sides again. This time he cupped her tits. They were the perfect handful
    for Marco; and as he cupped them, his thumb and index finger naturally tweaked
    her nipples.

    "Oh Marco, harder, pinch them harder." Angela

    breathlessly panted.

    Marco began to pinch her nipples harder as he continued to

    kiss her neck. Angela felt something building inside her she had never felt
    before. She knew it must be an orgasm, she was sure the feelings were so
    intense. Marco then stopped kissing her neck and turned Angela to face him. His
    left hand stayed on her right tit, but his right hand was replaced by Marco's
    teeth. He bit lightly on Angela's nipple while squeezing the other one hard.

    "Ah!"

    Angela screamed as her first orgasm ever, ripped through her

    body. Marco let her ride out the orgasm before letting go of her nipple with
    his teeth and replacing his hand. He then began to kiss down her stomach. Angela
    could not believe what had just happened, and now Marco was kissing down her
    belly toward her lady garden. Angela began to vibrate with anticipation. Marco
    stopped at her belly button and began to swirl his tongue around it. Angela
    liked that, but wanted him lower, so she pushed on his head. Marco continued
    down toward Angela's neatly trimmed pubic hair. Her scent was intoxicating.

    Marco remembered what the wives had told him. Take your

    time, kiss, and lick everything, let her moans and movements guide you. So, he
    did just that; letting her signals guide his movements. Then she grew impatient
    and grabbed his head more forcefully guiding his movement. Marco found his
    mouth being pressed, on what he knew was Angela's clit. He took it in his mouth
    and began to suck on it, lightly at first, but as Angela pushed his head hard
    he sucked harder. Angela began to shudder and moan. Marco's hands had been on Angela's
    ass, rubbing it but then he had an inspiration and moved them to her tits. Just
    as he increased the suction on her clit, he grabbed her tits and pinched the
    nipples. Angela screamed, as her second orgasm was even more powerful than the
    first.

    Marco's face was now covered in Angela's juices. He couldn't

    help but smile. Marco was sure if the wives knew what he had just given Angela,
    they would be proud of him. Yet he would never tell them. This made him smile
    again.

    Angela could not believe what had just happened! She had

    wondered and worried about her first time with a man. She had listened to her
    mom and aunts. She had researched on the computer, once she had access, but
    none of them had prepared her for the reality. Marco had made her feel things
    she did not believe were possible, and now she had to reciprocate. Angela took Marco's
    hands off her tits and then pulled him up. Marco rose up until he was face to
    face with Angela. His face was glistening, and Angela could not believe that
    she had done that. On a whim she kissed him. She had never tasted herself
    before and she couldn't really figure out what she tasted like. Marco seemed to
    like it though. Angela was sure she would taste more fluids soon that she had
    never tasted before. Angela continued to kiss Marco as she unbuttoned his
    shirt. Once it fell to the floor she rubbed her hands on his chest. Angela
    could not believe how broad and muscular it was. She began to kiss his chest as
    her hands worked on his belt. Soon, the belt was undone, and then his pants
    were coming off.

    Angela had already felt Marco's hardness against her stomach

    and ass but now she was about to see it. His underwear were tented and had a
    wet spot on the front. This made Angela smile. He was wet for her, like she was
    wet for him! She then grabbed his underwear with both hands and eased them down
    his legs, making sure to pull forward so his erection could spring free. Angela
    was eagerly awaiting her first look at Marco's phallus and had gotten a little
    too close. As his cock sprang free from his underwear, it hit her in the nose. Angela
    stifled a giggle. She dropped the waistband as she looked up to Joerge’s eyes.
    She winked at him while she gently took his cock in her hand, and kissed the
    tip.

    Marco moaned out his appreciation. He thought he had died

    and gone to heaven, but then Angela took his head into her mouth. Then Marco
    knew he was in heaven. As she slowed moved her tongue around the ridge, while
    firmly squeezing him with her lips. Then she moved back and forth on his cock. Marco
    could feel his orgasm building. The wives told him not to worry if the first
    ejaculate came quickly; he knew he would be ready to go again, and soon. Since Angela
    had flooded his face with her cum he forgot all about warning Angela he was
    going to explode.

    Angela’s fingers fondled his dangling sack, feeling the

    texture of the balls. As she enjoyed this erotic moment, she noticed his sack
    firm up, and the shape become very round, tightly constricted to the base of
    his rigid cock shaft.

    Angela felt Marco's cock spasm, and his semen shot into her

    mouth. She didn't know what to do, and tried to swallow, but as she began to
    swallow, another, bigger blast and her mouth flooded with cum, she moved her
    head back. This caused Marco's third spurt to land on her cheek and his fourth
    to land on her tits. This time she couldn't stifle a giggle,

    “Uh! Uh!“ Marco grunted his euphoric pleasure, his hands

    softly caressing her hair, and forehead. Breathing deeply, he moaned; “Oh, Angela!
    You’re absolutely amazing!”

    "Wow, I guess you wanted to get me back for covering

    your face."

    Marco had cum before, but only with his hand. This felt

    totally different. He vowed never to use his hand again! Angela's mouth was a
    thousand times better. This made him wonder what it would feel like to be
    inside her.

    "I have never had that done to me before. I didn't know

    what would happen. It was amazing, you are amazing. I'm sorry about the
    mess,.I'll get a cloth..."

    Marco's words just came tumbling out, Angela giggled again,

    "Marco, it's okay! I was just kidding. You gave me such

    exquisite pleasure, twice! I wanted to do the same."

    "It was exquisite, Angela. I can't wait to do that

    again with you; but first I want to be inside you."

    "Yes, Marco I want that too, but please go slow, it is

    my first time. I think we should do this in the bedroom."

    Marco took Angela's hand in his, as he led her into the

    bedroom. It had a massive King-size bed. Marco had slept in a single bed his
    whole life. He could not believe the size of this bed.

    Angela also could not believe the size and plushness of the

    bed. It had so many pillows! The comforter was so amazingly soft. Angela turned
    down the bed and climbed in. Marco couldn't help but appreciate the view, as he
    followed her naked glorious body.

    Joining her in the bed, They began kissing. Tentatively at

    first, but then with more fervor. Marco couldn't help but run his hands over
    his bride, caressing her back and tits and ass cheeks. Angela basked in his
    touch. She however, wanted him inside her, and reached out to feel his cock. It
    was rock hard again and that made her smile. It made her feel desired and
    wanted like never before. Angela's hand, touching his cock head, sent a jolt
    through Marco's body. He was immensely enjoying kissing and caressing Angela,
    but now he had a desperate need to be inside her.

    Angela shared that desire, and as Marco moved to hover above

    her as she spread her legs wide, then with her hands on his waist, she guided
    him to her vagina. Marco’s weight was on his knees, with his arms supporting
    him on each side of her shoulders. Looking deep into each other’s eyes, His
    hips dropped and his cock submerged into the wet opening of her hot cunt.

    He could not believe how amazing she felt. It was so hot,

    and wet, and tight, he wondered if he might shoot off again too soon. Angela's
    voice broke through his thoughts.

    “Stay right there.” Angela squeezed his waist. “The

    pressure. It’s so wonderful, but so tight.”

    He slowly leaned down and kissed her lips, careful to keep

    his cock just inside her wonderful wet cunt.

    Then Marco hit Angela's hymen. He was going slow enough that

    he felt the resistance. This was the big moment. They were both about to lose
    their virginities and Marco wanted Angela to remember it fondly for the rest of
    her life. He stopped moving and brought his lips down to hers. He nipped her
    lip with his teeth and then kissed her. Angela responded with a moan and her
    tongue came to meet his. Their kiss grew in intensity, Angela subconsciously
    pushed her hips up toward Marco, she wanted more. Marco held still as Angela
    broke her hymen on his turgid cock.

    She grit her teeth but just looked at him with a devoted

    smile.

    "You’re so big inside me Marco, please go slow."

    Marco started to push his cock forward, quarter inch by

    excruciatingly awesome quarter inch. The feeling was spectacular as Marco
    literally explored virgin territory. He wanted to just slam it home, but kept
    repeating in his mind, go slow, go slow.

    As Angela's vagina worked to accommodate Marco, she felt the

    pain recede and immense pleasure increase. Her nerve endings were already
    sensitive from her two climaxes and now they were going into overload.

    Angela felt her virginity disappear and the brief pain

    spurned her on. She grabbed Marco's hips and pulled him down onto her as she
    thrust her hips up into him. Marco's quick reflexes were a large part of what
    kept him alive on Eldorado that first year, and he instantly thrust down as
    hard as he could! As he bottomed out, he couldn't help but moan out his
    pleasure.

    "Oh, Oh, Angela you feel incredible!"

    Angela couldn't believe how compete she felt with Marco all

    inside her. It was a feeling she hoped would last forever.

    "More Marco, I need more, make love to me."

    Marco started out slow after her encouragement; but soon

    picked up the pace. It seemed obvious to do so; especially as Angela moaned her
    encouragement. Marco was enjoying himself immensely, savoring the feeling of
    his cock moving in and out of Angela. What he didn't realize, however; was that
    his movements were bringing Angela close to her first vaginal orgasm. Angela
    was desperate to cum, and did the only thing she could think of to spur Marco
    on. She pulled at his back, dragging her fingers along his skin, as hard as she
    could.

    Marco felt the pain and his subconscious brain recognized

    the cause, it was Angela's primal need. Marco immediately began slamming his
    cock into Angela, who continued to pant, anxious to get release.

    Marco thought he would lose his mind from the lust

    overwhelming him. Angela was now desperate for release and then wham! It hit
    her!

    A wordless scream left her mouth as her whole body was

    consumed with the greatest pleasure Angela had ever felt. She clung on to Marco
    and he stopped moving. Her legs wrapped him tight, pressing his stiff shaft,
    pressed to the far end of her cunt. Her arms squeezed his chest, tight against
    her tits. Marco could feel however, her vagina pulsing around his cock and the
    feeling was magnificent. She then redoubled her efforts, pulled on the hair on
    the back of his head. Marco went into a frenzy moving so fast it became a blur.
    Their coupling was so intense, the world collapsed into two sweating bodies,
    trying to merge together into one.

    Marco could feel two things at that moment. Angela trembling

    beneath him about to have another orgasm, and the freight train of his orgasm
    gaining so much momentum it was about to jump the tracks. Marco's orgasm
    blasted out of his cock, both figuratively and literally. He pounded her cervix
    while shooting a spray of jizz, as his climax rolled through his body. It was
    so intense he almost blacked out. It was all he could do to keep as much of his
    weight off of Angela as he savored the moment.

    Eventually, he opened his eyes and looked down at Angela. At

    first, he thought her asleep as she had a look of total serenity. This was in
    such contrast to the multiple contortions her face went through when she
    orgasmed. He had not viewed the last one, but he could imagine it was similar.
    He felt so much pride in being able to bring her such pleasure. Once again, he
    marveled at how unbelievable, making love to Angela was. It was certainly worth
    the wait!

    Marco continued to study her face, and then Angela opened

    her eyes. Marco could not believe the love that he saw in her eyes. Her intense
    gaze melted away everything that came before now in Marco's life.

     No thoughts of overcrowded,

    over-controlled earth.

    No thoughts of pain or loneliness

    from his five long years of toil.

    No thoughts of anything but a

    bright future with Angela here on Eldorado.

    Angela opened her eyes and could only see Marco staring down

    at her. She was trying to regain her breath, after her spectacular climax. She
    was stunned as his gaze stopped all function. She knew the mail order bride
    route was a risk. She also knew that life on Earth would be a dreadful
    existence. That route only had oppression and emptiness. The look in Marco's
    eyes told her she had made the right choice. Angela's future was free to enjoy
    with this incredible man. It didn't matter that she had only known him for a
    few hours, she felt the bond as the two of them became one.

    They saved themselves for each other. They didn’t have to,

    yet this was a gift the both cherished, and it secured their bond and
    commitment, for life.

     Based on a post by Farmer

    jill

    44 min
  • Tutoring Tess

    Neighbor's daughter seeks out widower next door, to help her with human sexuality lessons.

    By SilverFoxMullet - Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

     I was folding the last of my laundry, there wasn't much with just myself left in the house. My son had got married and moved to British Columbia. My wife passed on 2 years ago. Just me now, enjoying a much-too-quiet life.

    Then the doorbell rang. I went to the door and opened it, only to find my neighbour's daughter Tess standing on his front porch. I'd watched her grow up next door.

     When my son had moved out ten years ago, my wife and I had occasionally babysat little Tess. It had been nice having kids around the house again. She'd grown up into an intelligent, pretty young girl. She'd also been devastated why Marie had died.

    "Oh, Hi, Tess. What can i do for you?"

    "Hi Mr Brock. I um, I need some help with some, uh, homework. I was hoping you'd be able to help me?"

    "Okays, I don't know how much help I can really be, but I can try. High school was an awful long time ago for me! Come on in."

    Tess followed me into the living room and I asked her "Do you want a drink, I've got water, pop, juice, or milk."

    "Water's fine" she said.

    I poured two glasses and came back, handing her one as she sat there on my sofa. "So, how can I help? My knowledge of high school math is really out of date you know."

    She was fidgeting and blushing, as she sat there clutching her drink and a textbook. Finally she exhaled and said "Human sexuality" as she held up the book.

    I blinked at her, nonplussed. What are they teaching kids these days? The only response I could muster was "Um, what?"

    She set down her book, took a drink, then set her glass on the coffee table. "Mr. Brock…"

    "Call me Kenneth, please."

    "Kenneth. I, I want to learn about um, you know, sex. I, my friends, they're all starting to do stuff, to fool around, and I um, I want to learn too but I'm afraid."

    I sat there looking at her, unable to process what she was saying. She grew more agitated, and blushed even more. Tears welled up and slipped down her cheeks. If I have one weakness, it's a crying woman. I got up and moved to sit beside her and wrapped my arms around her.

    Tess sobbed and clutched at me, crying into my shoulder. After a few minutes she pulled back, and I let her go. "Will to teach me?" she asked. Oh fuck no, I thought.

    "That depends on what you want to learn."

    "I want to learn about sex. I want to learn everything, I want you to teach me."

    "Oh. How old are you now, Tess?"

    "I'm sixteen. I'm old enough to learn about this."

    Oh crap. This is bad. Really, really bad. "You may think you're old enough, but not for me, that's for sure. You're not even an adult in the eyes of the law. I'm sorry Tess, I can't help you with this."

    Tears started dripping again as she spoke. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have bothered you with this. It's just, like, all my friends, they're doing stuff, and I feel left out, I want to, but I'm scared. They all say sex is painful, or uncomfortable, or just, not great. Stuff I've read, and stuff I've watched on the internet, makes it sound like sex should be really good, really fun, but my friends say it's not. I want to learn the right way, so it's good for me."

    Wow. What the hell are her friends doing? Ah, right, teenage boys. Worse than useless. Maybe I can't do anything with her, but I can help.

    "Ok, I am not going to teach you, at least not any hands-on lessons, but I will offer you some advice."

    She straightened up a bit, and wiped her eyes. God she was so beautiful. Very girl-next-door wholesome. The last thing she deserved was some idiot teenage boy humping at her for 30 seconds and then running off to brag about his prowess to his idiot friends.

    "My first piece of advice is to masturbate."

    She looked confused now. "You want me to what?"

    "Masturbate, play with yourself. Look, how will you ever be able to tell your lover what you want and how you want it unless you know yourself? Get comfortable with yourself, learn how to please yourself, learn what makes your orgasms great."

    She was staring wide eyed at me now, as my words started to sink in. "How do I do that?" she asked.

    "Look up female masturbation videos. Watch and learn, and practice."

    "Okay" she said, "What else?"

    "Buy a toy. Get a marital aid, a dildo, so you can practice feeling what intercourse is like. You can use other things, but it's better and safer to use the right tools for the job. Look up a sex shop or stag shop. I'll even go shopping for you if you want."

    "Oh, yes, would you, please?"

    "Certainly. Now, once you are comfortable with your own sexuality, and you find someone you want to be with, make sure you tell them what you like. Don't be afraid to be demanding about what they're doing. They either do it right or you kick them out of bed."

    She giggled at this, which I thought was incredibly cute. "Don't discount female lovers either. They like sex exactly the way you do. Once you get good at masturbation you'll be able to please another girl quite well."

    "I don't think I want to do that, I like boys." she said.

    "You mean 'men' not 'boys'. That's exactly why your friends are having lousy sex. They're playing with boys."

    She nodded, so I continued. "Guys like oral sex too. In fact, if you're good at blowjobs you won't have to put up with their inept antics in bed. That's another use for the dildo, to practice oral sex. And if a guy starts to hump your face, if he starts grabbing you and pushing, bite him. You don't have to take that if you don't want it. If it's something you enjoy, then let him play, but otherwise he is there to please you, not the other way around."

    Tess was smiling now, tears all but forgotten. She hugged me, and said "Thank you. I will follow your advice Mr, uh, Kenneth."

    I picked up her book, flipped through it quickly, and found the section on female anatomy. I showed her the diagram and said "Learn what all your parts are, what they're for, and how they work. This is a good place to start. I'll find you a toy tomorrow and you can stop by to pick it up on Tuesday, OK?"

    She nodded, saying "Thank you", and repeated herself after hugging me again.

    Once she'd left I locked the door and went upstairs with laundry basket. I dropped the basket on the bed and went into my bathroom. I had such a wicked hard-on, I just had to get some relief. The very idea that the literal girl next door wanted me to teach her about sex had me hard as steel.

    She might be jailbait but I could still follow my own advice, and masturbate. Of course I didn't last long at all, but I wasn't trying to last.

    I went shopping for Tess on Monday, picking out a nice realistic looking dildo and a bottle of personal lubricant. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I chose one that was almost exactly my size. The girl at the cash looked kind of funny at me, so I smiled and said "Gift for a friend

    Tess knocked on my door the next afternoon when she got home from school. We exchanged greetings and I handed her the plain brown paper bag. She wanted to pay me for it but I told her it was a gift. l got a hug in return and she practically scampered next door. I silently wished her luck. ." It's great to see Tess feeling more confident about her sexuality. I'm still amazed that I'm the one she turned to for help.

    The thought of this girl using her new toy to explore herself gave me fodder for my own playtime for the next week. She may only be sixteen, but she's unbelievably sexy.

    Afterwards I only saw her in passing, as usual, and we'd wave and say 'Hi'. She looked happy and cheerful, and I assumed her self-directed lessons were going well, as she hadn't returned for any more advice. Part of me assumed she'd developed a romantic relationship and was handling things just fine.

    Life went on, I kept busy at work, and did yard maintenance, laundry, and all the usual stuff around the house. I wasn't into playing sports, so I went to the gym a few days a week to keep in shape. My woodworking hobby morphed from a strictly power tool shop to using a lot more hand tools. It was slower paced but I found it a lot more rewarding. Thoughts of Tess faded away. I had my 'internet videos & pics' to keep me occupied when I needed it. I had no interest in pursuing a new love this late in life, so i wasn't dating or putting myself out there.

    That was two years ago. Today I was in the basement shop, planing a cherry table top. It was good physical labour, and I was sweating a bit as I worked. I heard the doorbell, so I set the plane aside and brushed the shavings off my pants.

    The bell rang again as I hurried up the stairs, yelling "Coming!" I pulled the door open to find Tess standing there smiling at me. "Oh, Hi there, Tess. I haven't seen you around for a while. How've you been?"

    "Hi Kenneth! I just wanted to stop by for a visit, if that's OK?"

    "Uh, sure, come on in, can I get you a drink or something?"

    "Water would be fine, thanks."

    I poured two glasses and brought them to the living room. We sipped and she set her glass down.

    "So what brings you by today?" I asked.

    "Same as last time." she said with a demure smile.

    Last time? Shit, last time she wanted me to 'teach' her about sex. I choked on my drink.

    "Uh, Last time?" I said faintly.

    "I'm here for my next lesson. I turned 18 a month ago," She beamed. "And now I want you to finish teaching me about sex."

    Holy fucking mother of god. She was back, and she was more beautiful than ever. She'd matured more since she was 16, with such a pretty face and solid, slim figure. I could see how nice that figure was, because she wasn't hiding it. The bright yellow halter style dress she was wearing had a deep vee displaying her lovely cleavage, no back, and came to mid-thigh on her sleek legs.

    I didn't realize that I hadn't responded to her.

    "Well? Will you? Please?" she asked. "I've waited two years you know. And I followed all your advice too. I'm ready for the next lesson."

    "But why me, you're stunningly beautiful, you could have any guy you wanted."

    "I know. And I want you." She said with resolve.

    She then kicked off her sandals and stood up. Reaching behind her neck, she undid the tie holding up the top of her dress. It came undone and the dress slithered to the floor, pooling around her feet. All she had on now was a pair of lacy yellow panties

    God she was perfect. Chestnut hair, falling about her shoulders. High, firm, fully tanned breasts with neat brown areolas and stiff looking nipples; her slender waist flared into nicely curved hips, which continued in a graceful curve down her thighs.

    Tess stepped towards me, and held out her hand. I reached out and took it. God help me, this was so wrong, but I was literally unable to resist her. She pulled gently and I rose to my feet, stunned by her presence. A tug on my hand was all she had to provide to get me in motion, and I followed her from the living room.

    She led me to the top of the stairs, hypnotizing me with the sway of her ass; then stopped and asked in a sultry voice "Which way is the bedroom?"

    "This way" I said, pointing to the right. I continued to follow her, into my room, where she stopped, turned, and stood with her arm wrapped around the tall bedpost at the foot of my queen bed. "Tess…" I croaked in a strained voice.

    "This is what I wanted back then, when I came to you two years ago. It's still what I want now. You said I was too young. I'm an adult now, and I want this, I want you."

    "Oh god, Tess. I want to say no, I should say no, I have to say no, but I can't. You're so perfect, so beautiful, so delightful, and I can't tell you no."

    She smiled, and oh man, she was so stunningly beautiful it made me weak at the knees. Like a fucking goddess. And like a goddess, no mere mortal like me could refuse her.

    "Make love to me, Kenneth." She said, in a low sultry voice.

    I peeled off my polo shirt and tossed it aside. The rest of my clothing quickly followed, and I stood before her as aroused as I had ever been in my life. Her smile broadened and she laughed lightly, saying "Oh you're perfect! You're just like that wonderful dildo that you gave me to practice on!"

    I remembered the dildo I bought her years ago, and recalled that that was exactly what I'd picked out for her. I just smiled back at her and gave a little shrug. She laughed again and beckoned me forward. The goddess pulls the strings and the puppet moves to her will. Where did she get such sexual confidence and assertiveness?

    I took her hand and walked over to the side of the bed, where I sat and guided her onto my lap, and kissed her.

    She sighed into the kiss, and melted against me. Her skin was so soft, her warm, fragrant body so supple and firm at the same time. We kissed for a while, and I moved my attentions from her lips to her jawline, then to her earlobes, and finally her neck.

    Tess was cooing and sighing in my arms, her firm breasts and taught nipples pressed to me. I kissed her again, harder, and brought my tongue into it. Hers came back at me to play, and we tasted each other for a while more.

    When she started to writhe in a subtle manner I knew she was truly aroused, so I moved her over to lie back on the bed. Awestruck, I gazed at her, reddish brown hair fanning out on the bed, firm breasts sitting high on her chest, defying gravity and anatomy alike. I swooped down upon her breasts, stroking, kissing, licking, and fondling her magnificence.

    Those coos and sighs continued, and she started adding words to her breathless sounds. "Don't touch my nipples yet" she whispered, as she directed me to the valley between her tits. I moved to the undersides of them, and thence to her areolas, as I progressed along my slow, wonderful tour.

    Finally, with a moan and a push, she led me to the end of this part of our journey. Set in goose-bumped areolas, her swollen, highly sensitive nipples were my last target. I began with gentle licks, then small kisses, on one, then the other, and back. Then it was nibbles, fingers rolling them, sucking them, pressing them, and manipulating her nipples as many ways as I could. She began to writhe beneath me, her words tapering off into moans and gasps. No longer directing me, I played, I explored, I teased and tantalized her. A shudder, followed by a long sighing gasp was the signal she was done with this, and she gently pushed me away.

    "Oh, Kenneth, that was wonderful! Thank you. Now lay back, I want to explore you."

    I did as she bid, and Tess started touching, stroking, fondling, and kissing her way from my ears to my toes. She didn't spend too long in any one place, and she avoided my cock completely. Little questions, do I like this, or that, and little comments about what she found or liked, interspersed her explorations. She found some ticklish places, and she also found some really arousing places too. Places my wife had never found, places I never suspected I had.

    By now, there was a puddle of pre-cum on my abdomen, and she shifted her position to inspect me more closely. She lifted my cock and licked the most recent droplet from it. Then she dipped her head down and lapped up that puddle. My stomach muscles flexed and clenched as she tickled me with her agile tongue. She giggled at my 'gut reaction' as she called it.

    Then the most wondrous sensation hit my rigid cock. Her mouth closed over me, and that agile tongue found a new place to play. My late wife hadn't been much for blowjobs, so this was a rare treat indeed for me. Last time would have been probably 25 years ago. And it didn't stop with her tongue, amazing as it was. My shaft began to disappear into her mouth bit by bit, as she bobbed up and down ever so slowly. I stared stunned and slack-jawed in amazement as Tess worked my cock into her throat.

    I kept my hands to myself, clutching the duvet, and desperately willed myself not to cum. Alas, this last was in vain, because this goddess continued to pull strings on her mortal puppet. She wanted me to cum, so cum I would, whether I wanted to or not. I groaned and muttered "I'm gonna cum" through gritted teeth. She heeded my warning by humming and pulling back until just my head was in her warm wet mouth. She redoubled her efforts with her tongue, swirling around and around my throbbing manhood. With a whimper I came, shaking and pulsing over and over into her eager mouth. She swallowed my load and kept licking and sucking until I wilted in her mouth.

    "How was that?" she asked.

    "Oh god, Tess, that was the best I ever had."

    She giggled again. "I'm just glad you picked a toy the right size. Practice makes perfect. Although my toy doesn't cum like you do, that was a bit of a surprise. It doesn't taste bad at all, but the texture is weird."

    As I listened to her words, she made me wonder, and I had to ask. "Was that your first real blowjob?"

    "Uh huh. First ever. It was good?"

    "Like I said, best ever. I can't believe that was your first time doing this!"

    "First time for real, it was always just my toy before now."

    "Wow."

    "Now it's your turn to please me" she said, rolling onto her back and tugging my arm. Those strings again, pulling me wither she desired, and this time it was her most private place. I used my hands and forearms, my lips and tongue, to stroke and touch her all over. It was my turn to find her interesting places, her ticklish spots, and make her squirm in anticipation.

    I touched her face and neck, kissing and stroking, and proceeded to her shoulders and arms. Another chance to play with her lovely breasts was not to be denied either, and I did indeed have her squirming now. I worked my way down her body, making sure to test every place I could for sexual suitability. She directed me to a few places that she liked, and I found some spots she didn't yet know about. She began to get more vocal, calling my name occasionally, giving hints and feedback and directions, interwoven with a progressively louder and more varied series of moans and gasps.

    I stopped, and rose to preview what I was about to acquire. I softly brushed my fingers all around her panties, and her movements became more erratic, changing from a slow undulation to twitching and shuddering. Slowly, I peeled the bright yellow lace from her hips. I could scent her now, a wonderful mix of the robust and the delicate at the same time. She had a beautiful reddish-brown bush, lush and soft, that led to her sex.

    I nuzzled her lovely triangle of fur, all the while drawing in her heady aroma. I discarded her panties now, and her legs fell open to my gaze. Beautiful. Exquisite, even. Her lightly furred vulva surrounded a pair of dark-edged lips, glistening with the source of that scent I was enjoying. I pushed her legs farther apart and looked up at her. She smiled back at me and said "Teach me". Fuck.

    A lick, along her slit, hammered my senses of taste and smell, filling me with her. She was sour and sweet and floral and meaty, with a little saltiness from her sweat. I moaned into her as I plowed her with my tongue again, deeper, harder. More contact, more flavour, more joy! I pulled back and looked for her clit. That little peak in her folds held a secret I wanted to discover. I drove my tongue into her again and licked all the way up to try and find her clitoris. It was there, small, but firm, still buried in those folds, I could feel it. She could too, based on how she squeaked and jumped when I hit the right spot.

    Her breathing was getting faster, and her thighs were flexing, so I assumed she was very close. Did I want, or even need, to tease her? I needed to know what she wanted, so I asked. "Do you want to cum now, or make it last a while?"

    "In a little while, but not too long" she said as she brought her hands down to run fingers through my hair.

    Perfect. I wondered if her other lovers had asked the right questions, or had she had to guide them? No matter, I have the here and now to deal with. I pulled her labia apart gently with my fingers and played my tongue over the wet pink flesh revealed within. Her hips gyrated against me, so I continued to play at this. When my nose bumped her clit, she jumped and squeaked again.

    I worked a fingertip into her opening, swirling it around to maximize the stimulation, while at the same time I began to gently lick and kiss her clitoral hood. A shuddering moan indicated I was on the right track, With feather-light touches around her clit, and my finger slowly working deeper into her passage, I increased her stimulation. Those gyrations increased, and my licks to her clit became less subtle, more direct.

    Tess whimpered as I rolled my finger inside her, and sought her G-spot. When she cried out suddenly, with an accompanying shudder and thrust of her hips, I knew I'd found the right spot. I attacked her clit with more gusto, lapping and flicking at her, as my finger continued it's internal foray. She came, she came with abandon. Squealing and thrashing and calling my name, she practically bounced on the bed. I had to hold her hips firmly with my arms and my free hand just to stay connected to the vital spots and continue to stimulate her.

    She seemed to cum at least twice, possibly thrice, before the grip on my air went from pulling to pushing. I relented, and rose to look down at her, her face and chest flushed, sweat beading her forehead, and the most beautiful expression on her face. She looked like the goddess she was.

    "Oh god Kenneth, that was the most amazing orgasm I've ever had! What have you done to me?"

    I slid up to lie beside her, cuddling together while she regained her breath and her senses. "That was wonderful" I said. "I enjoyed you so much, and you seemed to enjoy it too."

    "The best ever" she said, paraphrasing my earlier comment on her own oral efforts.

    "Your other lovers didn't perform so well, then?"

    "There are no others. just me and my toy. I've waited and practiced and dreamed of this day." Her hand slipped between us to fondle my hardness, which was back from it's slumber.

    "No one? But I though you wanted to learn…"

    "I wanted you. I told you so. I wanted to learn, and I wanted you to teach me. All you could give me was advice and my toy, so I made the best of what I had. Can we start our next lesson?"

    "Tess? You're still a virgin? Are you sure about this?"

    She laughed, saying "If you're wondering about my hymen, that toy took it the very first day I got it. I went straight home and tried it. Slowly, carefully, and immediately. And every day since, I've practiced and practiced, hoping that when I was ready, you'd accept me. That you'd teach me the rest."

    "You are so beautiful, so amazing, I don't know how or why I got so lucky, but you're here. And I will not disappoint you."

    I sat up next to her, and swept my gaze and my hands along her nubile young body. "Did you bring any condoms?" I asked.

    "I'm on the pill, and you are my first lover, do we need one?"

    "I haven't been with anyone in over 5 years, and before that I had a vasectomy. So I am clean and sterile."

    "Make love to me, Kenneth."

    "For your first time, I want you on top."

    She laughed and we switched places on the bed. Straddling my hips, she leaned in to kiss me fervently, passionately, until we were starving for oxygen. I could feel her wet heat against my hardness, as she slowly shifted her weight on me. Finally breaking our kiss, she sat upright, raised herself aloft, and reached for me.

    I felt her hand moving my cock around, as she tried to position me just so. "I never tried this way with my toy. It doesn't lend itself to this very well. I'm usually on my back or on my hands and knees." Then she pressed herself down onto me, taking it slowly, gently. She leaned forward to plant her hands on my chest. "Oh god, this is so good, sooo goooood" she groaned. Bottoming out, she sat staring at me, gently running fingers through the graying hair on my chest. "Wow. I thought when I saw you, that it would feel just like my toy. But it doesn't, not at all. This is so much better!"

    With that, she started to play. She bounced up and down for a while, breasts wobbling, hair swirling, suddenly yelping and shuddering on me as she came. Collapsing on me, breathing hard for a minute or two, whilst her pussy throbbed and rippled on me.

    Smiling that amazing smile of hers, she pushed herself back up, and started grinding on me in little circular motions. This apparently worked even better, as she kept it up for about 5 minutes before squealing through a couple of orgasms. Once again, she slumped down onto my chest, and I could feel her heart beating madly in hers.

    When her pussy relaxed again, and she stirred, she sat up and said "That was better than anything I've ever felt. Even better than your wonderful tongue. Can we trade places now?"

    "As you wish" I said.

    "Oh Westley!" she replied with laugh. "Farm boy, make love to me now!" she demanded.

    With a chuckle, I rolled her over and we kissed again. I reached down to guide myself into her beautiful warmth, and god she was tight. I knew I wouldn't last long like this, and I told her so. "I've already had the best time of my life, please just enjoy me, the way I enjoyed you." she said.

    I kissed her again as i began to slowly push my aching cock in and out of her. We could hear the wet sloppy sounds of her pussy as I fucked her. I pushed myself up on my elbows and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. Her smile was amazing, and she felt so alive beneath me! I rocked my hips as my thrusting increased in force and speed, which stimulated her clit. Her smile changed to laughter as she approached orgasm, crying out to me "Oh god yes! Yes!"

    I was getting closer myself, and then she looked deep into my eyes, saying "I love you". That triggered me, and I humped madly at her, pounding myself deep into her, over and over, until I spasmed in bliss. I felt and heard her answering orgasm as we tumbled from our peaks to lay panting against each other, sharing breath, sharing heartbeats, sharing souls.

    "Oh god, Tess, I love you too." This, torn from me, how and why could this be happening?

    She kissed me again. "I hoped, I prayed, I wished, I waited so long for this. Thank you."

    Not wanting to crush her, I lifted off her, and slowly pulled my shrinking cock from her welcoming heat. "Yipe! Hey, I thought you were fixed!" she exclaimed as my issue came pouring out of her. Too late, the duvet cover needs washing now for sure.

    "A vasectomy doesn't change how much comes out, just what's in it, or not in it, so to speak. And you knew from that blowjob how much I cum."

    "My toy never made this much of a mess, that's for sure." she said with a laugh.

    "Let's take a shower, and then we can have something to eat, and we can talk, OK?"

    She looked a trifle worried about the 'talking' part, but the shower was definitely of interest to her! We spent a long time in the hot spray, exploring, touching and teasing each other. And we did incidentally get clean. We dried each other off, and I got a spare bathrobe for her.

    I made some sandwiches, and poured a couple of glasses of lemonade. We ate, and I asked her about school. She had just graduated high school with top honours, and was intending to go to Queens in Kingston, come September.

    Now we has to discuss 'Us'.

    "Tess, you're 18, you have your whole life ahead of you. I'm 58, due to retire in 2 years. I'm afraid that if we pursue any kind of relationship it will end badly, and most badly for you."

    Once again she surprised me by simply laughing at me. "Silly man! You've probably got another good twenty years in you. Do you want to waste it mowing your lawn and doing your laundry, or do you want to live?"

    I blinked at her in surprise, and she continued, "Do you think I would deny myself my true love simply because it may be cut short? Are you tied to this place? Could you follow me to Kingston?"

    My mind spun, I felt totally disoriented for a moment, and I looked into those crystal grey eyes. And I was lost. Strings, pulling me out of the quiet, common existence I was in. Strings, hauling me out of a rut that I hadn't known I had fallen into. Strings, pulling on my heart, making me love again.

    "Yes" I managed to choke out.

    She smiled that awesome, devastating smile of hers, and said "Kenneth Brock, will you marry me?"

    This had started with her tears two years ago and it was going to end with mine today.

    "Yes"

    By SilverFoxMullet for Literotica.

    0 min
  • Pandemic Passions
    Pandemic Passions
    Two people overcome OCD during a pandemic.

    by Curiousbusiness

    - listen to the
    Podcast on Steamy
    Stories



    "Thank you all for your

    participation today," Robert said through his microphone, "Thank you
    for your patience once again for any technical difficulties we experienced
    today. I think the glitches we ran into, though, were great ways to exercise
    our tolerance of imperfection. I heard today that some of you have found
    maintaining your progress in conquering obsessiveness to be difficult during
    the pandemic restrictions. What's easy to forget, though, are the successes you
    have made. 

    We often tend to overlook them, but I

    heard way more victories than defeats this week. I encourage everyone not to
    ignore those victories. I hope that until we meet again next week, you all
    continue to find ways to challenge yourselves and to say 'no' to that obsessive
    voice. Say 'yes' to getting out of your comfort zone. Until next time."

    Robert waved goodbye at his webcam, and

    a number of people chimed in to say goodbye or simply waved back. As the
    virtual meeting closed on his laptop screen, Jordan picked up his phone to fire
    off a quick text to Angela, a fellow group attendee he had connected with when
    the group was still held in-person before the COVID-19 pandemic. If the pandemic
    had not struck, Jordan thinks he and Angela would have started dating
    officially. They got as far as almost, maybe, perhaps, fooling around together
    once after one of their group sessions. Or, maybe not. Jordan could never be
    sure. His anxiety always reminded him to doubt.

    "Another good session," Jordan

    texted.

    Jordan set his phone down and left his

    desk for his usual routine. He washed his hands for twenty seconds under the
    water and used his hand towel to dry between every finger. Then, he went about his
    room to make sure his picture frames and Marvel figurines were lined uniformly.
    Somehow, they never were in order even though he never touched them since he
    last inspected them. A buzz came from Jordan's phone. Angela had sent a reply.

    "I can't take it anymore. My

    roommate is out for the night. She won't be back until Friday. Come over."

    Jordan's heart bounced and there was

    tightness in his chest. He remembered back to the second session of group
    therapy where Robert spoke about psychical warning signs in the body. Jordan
    identified his signs as a racing heart, tightness in the chest, and sweaty
    feet. He wiggled his toes. Yup, his feet were sweaty. These were the warning
    signs that anxiety was coming on.

    Robert's wise voice echoed in Jordan's

    head, "When you notice your warning signs, remember your coping
    skills."

    Jordan breathed in through is nose and

    out through his mouth. He repeated the exercise a few times, and once he was
    calmer, he looked at his phone again at Angela's message. What should he do?

    "Say 'yes'," Robert's voice

    echoed again.

    Jordan slapped the side of his head.

    "Get out of there, Robert!"

    Jordan glanced at his phone again, and

    noticed Angela's smiling face in her profile picture. Surely, he couldn't say
    'no' to that? With heavy thumbs, he punched in the three letters Y-E-S, and
    fired them off. Jordan scrambled to change out of his clothes. He hadn't worn
    presentable outdoor wear since the start of the pandemic. The warning signs
    were coming on as he swapped clothes. Jordan resorted to a raspy, interrupted
    breathing as he tried to inhale through the nose and exhale through his mouth
    while he wrestled with his clothes. He grabbed a medical mask from his pantry,
    which had turned into some type of apocalyptic bunker with supplies stacked to
    the ceiling, and shot towards his door.

    "Do I need to bring anything

    else?" Jordan's anxiety voice asked.

    Jordan reviewed the message from Angela

    again. No, she didn't ask for anything, but perhaps it would be polite to? What
    was the nature of this gathering?

    "I can't take it anymore. My

    roommate is out for the night. She won't be back until Friday. Come over."

    No, Jordan thought. Get your mind out of

    the gutter. That's not what she meant. Jordan analyzed the string of twenty
    words.

    "I can't take it anymore."

    That implies urgency, desire for

    something different.

    "My roommate is out for the

    night."

    Angela will be alone. WE will be alone.

    Angela sees this an opportunity. What would require us to be alone? Well, many
    things.

    "She won't be back until Friday.

    Come over."

    Today is Tuesday. That would mean at

    least three nights and two days where Angela, and I, could be alone. What would
    be the importance of making that known?

    "Say 'yes'," Robert trilled.

    Jordan pulled at his hair.

    "Say 'yes'," Robert sang,

    "Conquer that obsession!"

    Jordan ripped his front door open and

    took a confident step outside. He checked his left pocket for his phone, then
    his right pocket for his keys and wallet. The flustered young man checked that
    he locked his door twice before riding the elevator down to the main floor.
    Upon his exit of his condo building, he passed his hand under the hand
    sanitizer dispenser and received a dollop of the life-saving substance. That's
    when Jordan realized he forgot his portable bottle of hand sanitizer.

    "Conquer obsessiveness!"

    Robert chimed relentlessly.

    There was no time to turn back. The girl

    of his dreams was waiting for him and he must not delay. Jordan weaved through
    the near empty street, staying two meters away from anyone or anything that
    could be a deadly, disgusting Coronavirus carrier. Angela's condo building was
    but a 10-minute walk away, but to Jordan, the trek felt more like an expedition
    through hell itself. When he arrived at Angela's condo building, he felt another
    buzz in his pocket.

    "Bring condoms." Read the text

    from Angela.

    Well, that confirms it. Jordan's mind

    was right to be in the gutter. He promptly marched to the conveniently placed
    convenient store to the right of Angela's condo building and navigated to the
    family planning section. There was an assortment of sizes and shapes and
    flavors. There were a number of things to consider.

    Another buzz came, "Are you on your

    way yet?"

    There was no time for Jordan to consider

    the number of things he would have liked to consider. He picked the most plain
    looking box of condoms. Now to pay. Jordan slowly lifted his gaze towards the
    cashier far down at the end of the aisle. No self-checkout. Jordan dragged his
    feet and carried his body to the cashier, a young woman with bright red hair
    kneading some pink bubblegum between her teeth. She collected the box of
    condoms from his shaking hands and he presented his card to the scanner. Sweat
    emerged on Jordan's forehead as his purchase was being processed.

    "Good luck Champ," the cashier

    said flatly.

    Jordan emerged into the night air

    following the worst experience of his life. He filed into Angela's condo
    building and rang for her. The door unlocked, allowing him to maneuver his
    sweating body to the elevator. His very being was so shaken that if the
    elevator rose any quicker, his soul would have catapulted out of his body to
    heaven, or maybe hell. That did not happen. Jordan made it alive to Angela's
    door. He knocked.

    The Big Date

    Angela opened her door. Her hair was wet

    and she was wearing a white bathrobe. She clearly was just in the shower.
    Jordan could see her pretty blue eyes peering over the top rim of her medical
    mask. Angela noticed the box of condoms, which Jordan was indiscreetly holding
    in front of him with his two hands. Her eyes darted away and she felt her face
    turn hot.

    "Um, come in," she said.

    Jordan entered Angela's condo unit and

    the pair continued their awkwardness inside.

    "Ha-how's it going?" Jordan

    asked.

    "Good. Oh, and you?"

    "Yeah. I mean; good too, as well.

    Uh, and you?"

    He had already inquired about how Angela

    was. Jordan was cringing all over, like his body wanted to shrink into itself.

    "Good," Angela repeated,

    "Thanks for um; you know; coming so quickly."

    "Of-of-of course."

    Angela cleared her throat, "It was

    just that; I; you know; Robert said to get out of our c-comfort zone; um; and I
    was feeling; l-lonely. Um, thanks for picking those up."

    Angela had to turn her face away from

    Jordan. She wished so hard she could turn away from herself and not be Angela
    ever again. Jordan interjected prematurely, hoping to save Angela and himself
    from her most recent comment.

    "I was happy to. I wanted sex as

    well."

    Angela bristled. Jordan's attempt at

    extinguishing the awkwardness utterly failed.

    "And I-I don't mean sex with

    anyone. I-I meant with you."

    Angela bristled even more.

    "Ma-maybe we should sit; sit and

    chat more? Ha how was your day? How are you?"

    "Let's just do it," Angela

    blurted.

    Jordan swallowed, "Yeah?"

    "Yes, yes. Do you mind taking a

    shower first? I don't mean to be rude. You know how I am with germs."

    "Oh, thank you." Jordan

    exclaimed. "Yes. You know I'm the same."

    Jordan locked himself in Angela's

    bathroom, turned on the shower and doused himself. He cleaned himself
    feverishly to rid himself of the contamination of the outside world. Angela was
    busy too. She prettified her face with a touch of make up, then fussed about
    her room to make it romantic. Her room decor was inspired by some advice blogs
    she read, and a porn video she perused in the afternoon.

    Jordan stepped out of the shower and

    dried himself with a towel Angela had already prepared. He then slipped into a
    bath robe, which was also made available to him by Angela. Leave it to someone
    with an obsessive disorder to have everything prepared. Jordan put his
    medical-grade face mask back on, and nervously stepped out from the bathroom
    into Angela's room. The lighting was amber and low. Angela was already
    positioned in her bed, with her back resting against the headboard. Jordan's
    heart pounded at the sight of Angela and his head became light, but his legs
    worked well enough to transport him to her bed. When he got to the bed, he sat
    down but wasn't sure how to proceed. He would have loved to kiss her and the
    lips and every where else, but he was wearing a mask. In fact they both were.

    "Fif-finger me," Angela

    stammered.

    Angela couldn't believe her own words.

    She felt so ashamed, so embarrassingly desperate, but she couldn't help
    herself. In truth, she was desperate. So strong was her lust she had to become
    a different person to try and appease her yearning. Inviting a boy over? Asking
    to be fingered? Regular Angela would never do that.

    "Yes," Jordan said with

    strange confidence.

    Jordan smartly spotted the hand

    sanitizer on Angela's night stand and helped himself to it before carefully
    slipping his hand under Angela's bathrobe. Her thighs radiated warmth. As his
    hand ventured further up, the space between Angela's legs narrowed. Angela
    gasped when she felt Jordan's hands touch her thighs. She hadn't been touched
    in anyway by anyone, not even her roommate, in months. Angela gasped again when
    Jordan reached the spot. He gently explored the area and noticed she was
    cleanly shaven. Every feature he could feel was smooth and soft. He had a full
    erection. He recalled what he learned from his ex-girlfriend from two years
    ago, and began to pleasure Angela. Jordan knew he was out of practice and had
    limited experience, so he was hoping for the best.

    Angela was already sweating. The light

    rubbings of Jordan's fingers were tantalizing. He was so good, Angela had the
    impression that Jordan must have been with a lot of girls. She became wet very
    quickly, and Jordan seemed to catch on. He slipped a finger in as soon as he could.
    Angela shut her eyes and squirmed. The feeling was incredible as Jordan applied
    his technique inside of her. That sensation soon doubled when he slipped a
    second finger in. They did all sorts of things inside.

    "I'm ready," Angela uttered.

    Jordan was very much ready too. He tore

    open a condom and struggled to put it on for a moment of time, but he got it on
    in the end. Jordan let his bathrobe fall to the floor and Angela had a clear
    look. Her heart skipped a beat. She saw something that was definitely heftier
    than two fingers. Angela wanted it in her, but was at the same time worried if
    she could handle it. Jordan climbed into bed and man maneuvered himself over
    Angela.

    "Um. If you're OK, could I?"

    Jordan asked, making an opening motion with his hands.

    Angela knew what he meant.

    "Yeah, right. "

    Angela untied the string around her

    waist and timidly opened her robe, revealing her breasts. Jordan felt he could
    cum immediately just by the sight of them. But there was more left to see.
    Angela modestly opened the rest of her robe, revealing her long legs and the
    part in between them. Her lady part was immaculate, the most beautiful he had
    ever seen. Jordan told himself he didn't deserve such a gift, but he was still
    going to take it. As Jordan sank down, Angela's thighs fit snugly around his
    waist. He took aim and applied pressure. The doorway was firmly guarded, but
    once Jordan pushed through some inches, he was almost pulled in. Angela
    whimpered. Jordan sounded like he was about to cry. Both were shaking.

    "Get it together!" Jordan

    scolded himself in his head, "Don't let her think you're a loser!"

    After the self-motivation, Jordan drew

    back and pushed again. Angela moaned the most sensual moan. Her fingers clawed
    at her bed-sheets. Jordan's long rod that was lodged inside her was everything
    she needed. Jordan probably wasn't ready for another, but he reloaded and went
    again. He felt almost winded from the pure pleasure. His eyes were glued to
    where he and Angela were joined. Another thrust Jordan gave. Angela moaned
    loudly again. She felt her body spasm ever so slightly. It was a different
    story for Jordan, though. He was trying so hard to suppress his groan. Angela
    opened her eyes and looked up at Jordan. She knew what was happening.

    "Did you?" she asked politely.

    Jordan caught his breath. Embarrassment

    took hold of every inch of him.

    "Yes," he said, "I'm

    sorry. I'm so sorry."

    "No, no, that's OK," Angela

    assured.

    "I-I just need a minute,"

    Jordan said, "I can keep going."

    Jordan withdrew from Angela and

    dismissed himself to the bathroom. Behind the locked door, he rid himself of
    his soiled condom and doused himself again in the shower. Meanwhile, Angela
    caught her breath. She sat up and noticed the wetness between her legs. Being
    the germ-a-phobe she was, Angela plucked a few tissues and cleaned up.

    "Get yourself together,"

    Jordan said under his breath after drying off.

    Jordan was still somewhat erect. He put

    his hand to work to inflate himself again. It wasn't too difficult to do so.
    The image of Angela was burned in his mind. She was beautiful and sexy. So
    sexy. And her cunt. Her beautiful, perfect cunt. Jordan stepped out of the
    bathroom, without his mask.

    "I'm going to go down on you,"

    Jordan announced.

    Angela was surprised by his abruptness.

    "If-if that's OK with you; I'd like

    to go down on you," Jordan amended.

    Angela nodded.

    Sucking noises and Angela's

    vocalizations filled the room. Jordan's tongue sampled every part her cunt. She
    tasted so sweet that he came to understood why some people called it a
    honeypot. Angela was panting hard. She could barely breathe through her mask.
    The pleasure was immense and she could lie there for ages, but she a thought.
    Not only was she impressed by Jordan's cock and tongue, but she was also
    impressed by his courage. He wasn't wearing a mask, and he didn't mind going
    down on her, even though she knew he was just as big of a germ-a-phobe as she
    was.

    "Put a condom on," Angela

    instructed.

    Jordan obeyed. He fit a condom on

    quickly and smoothly this time. He was surprised to see that Angela had taken
    her own mask off, but was grateful she did. As Jordan stood at the end of the
    bed, Angela blew him. Jordan praised the heavens loudly. Angela felt incredible
    joy hearing how pleased he was by her technique. She had never blown anyone
    before.

    "Turn around," Jordan

    demanded.

    Angela got on her hands and knees at the

    end of the bed, and Jordan took her from behind. They went at it like rabbits,
    their flesh slapping together at a tremendous pace. Jordan felt he had never
    truly had sex up until this point. Angela wailed. Jordan's roughness turned her
    on to new heights. She enjoyed and endured his relentless ramming until she
    realized she was nearing her peak. She wanted to end face to face. Jordan obliged.
    He pounced on Angela as soon as she laid on her back. They breathed heavily as
    their eyes burned into each other's. Finally, they smashed their lips together
    and kissed. Their tongues pressing into each other's mouths swapping germs and
    saliva. The two kissed and fucked, until suddenly, Jordan felt a snap.

    "Oh shit," he wheezed, "I

    think the condom broke."

    He took a peak down, and sure enough,

    the condom was just hanging to him.

    "Let me get a new one."

    But Angela kept throwing her pelvis up.

    "I don't care. Don't stop!"

    Jordan snatched the ripped rubber in his

    hands, tore it away, and lobbed the slimy thing somewhere in the room. They
    kissed and fucked and moaned some more. Jordan detonated, blasting his white
    lava into Angela. Angela felt her womb grow hot with the fluid and she too
    expelled her own juices. The room fell quiet. The noisemakers lay piled
    together in bed, covered in mess, and they fell soundly asleep.

    The next morning, Jordan and Angela put

    themselves back together, taking turns in the shower. Jordan found the ripped
    condom he carelessly tossed, which had landed on Angela's desk, and disposed of
    it in the garbage can. The sinful two then masked up, and headed down to the
    convenience store, next door. There was a pharmacy inside. To Jordan's surprise
    and disbelief, the red-haired gum-chewing cashier from last night was now
    stationed at the pharmacy counter.

    "What can I get for you?" she

    inquired lazily.

    "We uh; need the morning after pill

    please," Jordan said.

    The girl disappeared and returned with

    the requested goods.

    "Way to go champ," she said

    dryly.

    Back To Support Group

    "Thank you all for coming together

    again this week online," Robert said, "It has been tough, I know.
    Remember folks, let's keep saying 'yes' to getting out of our comfort zones.
    Good-bye. Yes, thank you. Good-bye everyone. See you next week. Looks like we
    have a couple idlers here still left in the call. Jordan and Angela. I missed
    seeing your faces this week. I didn't notice your cameras and mics were turned
    off. I hope you two are doing well? Angela? Jordan?"

    "I'm gonna cum, Jordan! I'm gonna

    cum!" Angela’s distant voice screamed over Robert's voice.

    By Curiousbusiness

    for Literotica

    23 min
  • Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 3
    Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 3
    More Valentines Days.

    Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.



    The guilt provoked by Mr. Jacobs' observation was fleeting,

    and Emily texted me 3 days later, "Can we have another Valentine's Day
    tonight?"

    It was clear that the charade was over, and 'Valentine's

    Day' was her chosen euphemism for spending less-than-wholesome time together.
    Our relationship had become a dichotomy of two very different and
    compartmentalized romances. One of a pure and honorable public courtship, and
    the other of two young lovers clandestinely exploring physical passions.

    "Yes, 7?"

    "See you then."

    This time I locked the side door while we were closing the

    store, then unlocked it for Emily after Mr. Jacobs left.

    I thought about our new paradigm while sautéing some chicken

    then slicing it over the top of two Caesar salads. We were no longer pretending
    that our physical explorations were isolated happenstantial occurrences. The
    primary purpose of the night was clear, and I decided I might as well plan for
    it.

    An erection was imminent, and I decided to change clothes

    rather than risk being painfully bound-up in my jeans again. I rummaged through
    drawers and hanging clothes, carefully considering the functional benefits of
    each piece while also not wanting to appear too overtly presumptuous.
    Ultimately, I decided on a pair of loose-fitting linen pants, and a nice
    front-pocket t-shirt.

    I think Emily had the same idea. She arrived wearing a

    well-coordinated athletic outfit that was very fashionable, but very out of
    character for her. She wore white running shoes with low-cut ankle socks, a
    well-fitted white Lululemon zip-down hoodie, and baby-blue Lululemon yoga
    leggings that ended a few inches above her ankles.

    I had seen Emily in a variety of very attractive dresses and

    skirts, but nothing that revealed the shape of her body like those leggings.
    They fit like a second skin and clearly showed every soft curve of her legs and
    butt. The sight was incredibly sexy, and I stared unabashedly as she hung up
    her winter coat and came to greet me in the kitchen.

    We met in an all-consuming embrace and I lifted her into my

    arms. She added support by wrapping her legs around my hips and we began
    hungrily kissing, tongues eagerly intertwining.

    I was not interested at all in the salads sitting on the

    counter and carried Emily over to the sofa. Her legs loosened their grip on me
    and, with our mouths still joined, I bent forward to place her on the floor.
    She guided me backward into a slouched seating position and climbed over me to
    sit straddled over my left thigh, in the same way we had a few days ago.

    As each second passed, our desires grew and inhibitions

    loosened. In the midst of our urgent kissing, Emily began slowly and deliberately
    rocking her pelvis on my leg, and my hands boldly slid over her hips to
    encourage their motions.

    The erotic scenario brought physical sensations on a level

    that I had never experienced before. I could feel my erection obscenely tenting
    the thin fabric of my pants, and my balls hanging heavily between my legs. Both
    were hyper-sensitive to every subtle movement, and my completely engorged cock
    throbbed with every beat of my pulse.

    I loved feeling the motions of Emily's hips in my hands but

    yearned for more direct contact than I could have through the thick cloth of
    her hoodie. My large hands clumsily attempted to slide under the snuggly
    stretched tails without success.

    Sensing my intentions, Emily pulled away from our kissing

    and maintained eye contact while she sat upright on my thigh. Without a spoken
    word, she unzipped and discarded the hoodie to reveal a thin, strappy sports
    bra matching the baby-blue color of her leggings.

    Her eyes watched mine as they surveyed the amazing sight

    before me. The bra concealed two compressed mounds that appeared proportionate
    in size to her very petite frame, with subtle curves of cleavage extending
    above its swooping neckline. My eyes soaked in her feminine form above and
    below the bra, absorbing the softly toned body and flawless flushed skin
    revealed to me for the very first time.

    She watched as I admired her in amazement, "You are so

    beautiful."

    Without saying anything, she laid herself back on top of me

    and our mouths passionately met again. My hands went to her hips, feeling every
    curve through the thin fabric leggings and directing her to resume rocking on
    my leg.

    She did, and her motions quickly evolved from rocking into a

    firm rhythmic grinding. Shortly thereafter, our kissing stopped and we pressed
    our foreheads together, both breathing heavily with mouths inches apart.

    I could feel heat building on my thigh, emanating from both

    her legging covered folds and the friction of her intensifying pressure. Our
    eyes locked, Emily placed her hands on my chest and pushed her torso upright to
    adjust the angle of her grinding. She continued supporting herself on my chest
    while my hands slid up the sides of her thin waist and intuitively palmed her
    bra covered breasts, kneading them the best I could through the restrictive fabric.

    Emily intensified her grinding and the combined stimulation

    sent her to a new level, eyes rolling backward and body tremoring while she
    lost control. One hand still supported herself on my chest, but the other
    unconsciously dropped downward and grasped my fabric covered cock.

    The mere touch of her hand triggered my own reaction,

    tightening my balls and soaking my linen pants with copious surges of cum. I
    looked down in horror to see the messy results of my eruption, but also saw a
    large darkening blue circle in the crotch of Emily's leggings.

    I looked upward from the sights and smells of our

    fornication and met Emily's eyes. We silently stared at each other for several
    minutes, telepathically sharing a complex and confusing mix of lust, shock, and
    guilt.

    Eventually, Emily dismounted my leg and did her best to make

    herself presentable before leaving. We said goodbye with a timid hug, uneaten
    salads still on the kitchen counter.

    Guilt.

    We both knew we crossed a sinful line that night, and I

    think we were both scared. It wasn't sex in the traditional sense of the word,
    and we were technically both still virgins, but our actions were clearly
    outside the acceptable boundaries of Biblical purity and integrity. I know I
    was scared for several reasons but, most of all, scared that our relationship
    may have been permanently damaged. I wasn't the spiritual leader she wanted me
    to be, and I wasn't strong enough to maintain her purity.

    Over the next 12 hours, I vacillated between wanting to

    address the issue head-on and wanting to bury my head in the sand to ignore it.
    Around noon the next day, I manned-up enough to do the right thing and texted
    Emily, "Can you stop by the store this afternoon?"

    "Yes. What's up?"

    "I think we should talk about last night."

    My phone rang a few seconds later with a voice call. It was

    Emily.

    "Hi Michael."

    "Hey."

    "I can stop by the store, but I'm not ready to talk

    about last night."

    I started to protest, "I'm so sorry. I'm worried I

    ruined;”

    She interrupted firmly but compassionately, "Stop!; Michael,

    I love you. Nothing that happened last night changed that. I wanted everything
    that happened just as much as you did, if not more. You are not to blame. If
    anybody, I was the instigator."

    "But I;”

    She interjected again, "Michael!; I have a lot of

    conflicting feelings and I'm not ready to talk yet. I'll let you know when I
    am. Until then, please know that I love you and I don't want this to be an
    awkward thing between us. It's just something that we need to figure out
    together."

    "Ok, I love you too."

    We ended our phone call, and my phone chimed a text alert a

    few seconds later, "I'll stop by around 4. I love you."

    I typed back, "See you then. I love you too."

    Emily did stop by the store that day and it was surprisingly

    relaxed and comfortable. We talked about current happenings with school and our
    friends, just like we had during any of her past social visits to the store.
    Mr. Jacobs was there and even commented how he enjoyed Emily's visits and
    seeing us together, to which we both smiled in appreciation.

    Vivid Dreams.

    The 'public courtship' portion of our relationship continued

    as normal over the next days and weeks, spending time together as we always
    had, though I was admittedly self-conscious and sheepish during Sunday
    afternoon dinners at her parents' house.

    I mentally declared the end of 'Valentine's Day' and prayed

    constantly for the health of our relationship, patiently waiting for Emily to
    be ready to talk. My determination for future integrity was strong and
    steadfast; for about a week. After that, occasional flashbacks of passion and
    physical pleasure began creeping into my thoughts, and slowly started eroding
    my resolve. Several nights, I awoke from very vivid and unwholesome dreams with
    painful throbbing erections, effectively eliminating any remaining willpower I
    may have had.

    Coincidentally, about 3-weeks after our night of debauchery,

    I had just woken up from a night of graphic dreams when my phone chimed with an
    early-morning text from Emily.

    "Valentine's Day tonight?"

    I had little resistance to the idea while lying in bed with

    a rock-hard erection, but still felt the need to offer at least a minimal
    façade of reluctance.

    "Are you sure?"

    She replied immediately, "Yes, I miss V-day."

    "Me too. 7?"

    "See you then!"

    My anticipation escalated exponentially as time slowly

    ticked forward and I went about my typical daily activities. I needed a
    distraction from watching the clock and soaked in some sun between classes and
    work by walking to the grocery store.

    It happened to be an unseasonably warm April day with

    temperatures in the upper 70s, and the town was alive with people emerging from
    winter hibernation. Students studied on blankets and played lawn games in the
    campus quad, while an abundance of bikers and joggers overtook the local streets
    and sidewalks.

    After Mr. Jacobs and I closed the store, I went upstairs to

    find the apartment was sweltering. I opened the front windows and quickly
    changed into a t-shirt and a pair of loose-fitting breathable gym shorts. The
    gentle breeze slowly brought indoor temperatures down as I assembled two salads
    using a mix of spring greens, grilled chicken, dried cherries, candied pecans,
    gorgonzola cheese, and a raspberry vinaigrette.

    Emily arrived promptly at 7 o'clock wearing a very cute

    little sundress and white designer sneakers. The pastel mint-green dress was
    made of a light-weight linen fabric and had a fluttering bottom hem that ended
    a few inches above her knees. Thin spaghetti straps crisscrossed over her
    exposed shoulder blades and reconnected to the dress fabric midway down her
    back, low enough for me to recognize she couldn't be wearing a bra. The dress
    wasn't overly revealing by most standards but was definitely more adventurous
    than Emily's typically modest outfits.

    "Wow, you look incredible!"

    She gave me a flirtatious smile and said, "I'm glad you

    approve. I was thinking about you when I bought it."

    I responded with a teasing, "Oh really;” and

    pulled her into my arms for a hello kiss that turned into four or five.

    Breaking our kisses, I pointed at the bowls on the counter

    and said, "Let's eat before we; get too distracted."

    Emily laughed and we sat at the kitchen table to eat our

    salads, chatting like the best friends we had become. Conversation flowed
    easily despite our recent complexities and was testament that our relationship
    was grounded and true. I felt closer to her than ever.

    When finished, we both stood and placed our respective

    dishes in the kitchen sink. Emily turned to step away, but I quickly grabbed
    her by the waist and she squealed in surprise when I lifted her to sit on the
    edge of the counter. I stood between her legs, gazed into her eyes, and
    proclaimed from the depth of my heart, "I love you Emily Fulton."

    I immediately pressed my lips against hers and she responded

    by wrapping her arms around my neck and clutching her legs around my waist. The
    slow, deep, passionate kisses that followed were an honest and true expression
    of our pure love, and nothing less.

    Those first kisses filled with gentle romantic passion

    gradually evolved into more eager desire, our tongues exploring each other's
    mouths and searching for a greater depth of joining. I wrapped my arms around
    Emily's waist and lifted her from the counter, her arms and legs clutching me
    tight.

    She giggled playfully as I collapsed backward on the sofa,

    her landing on top of me, straddled over my lap. Our kissing continued with her
    body pressed fully against mine, my hands roaming her back and enjoying the
    soft skin exposed by the open-back dress.

    Emily occasionally shifted the weight of her hips from side

    to side as we made out. I sensed that maybe the position was uncomfortable for
    her, and asked between kisses, "Are you ok?"

    She sat upright on my lap and reached for the bottom of her

    dress, "I'm fine, the dress is just bunched up and I can't move."

    She planted her knees on either side of my lap and lifted

    upward to pull the dress out from underneath herself, revealing a quick glimpse
    of white low-rise bikini-style panties. At the same time, I took the
    opportunity to reach into my shorts and adjust my fully engorged cock to a more
    comfortable position, pointing the swollen head toward my stomach and utilizing
    the elastic waistband of my shorts to hold it in place.

    Emily watched intently as I adjusted myself then momentarily

    studied the resulting bulge before pressing herself back against me. My length
    was firmly sandwiched between us and the feel of her body against mine was an
    indescribable new experience, even though it was through a few layers of
    fabric.

    As we renewed our make-out session, Emily was enjoying the

    feel of my cock pressing into her stomach and slowly began inching her way up
    my body. When her mons came to rest over the base of my shaft, she began slowly
    rolling her hips forward in an effort to gain better contact with her
    panty-covered pussy. After repeated attempts without the desired effect, she
    momentarily pulled away from our kissing and very purposely shifted further
    upward to place her womanly heat squarely on the middle of my shaft.

    She intently rocked her pelvis forward and backward,

    nestling my girth between her folds as much as the cotton barrier would allow,
    then increased her movement to slide up and down the length of the shaft. My
    hands instinctively moved to Emily's hips to reinforce her motions, then more
    boldly slid to cup and squeeze her ass.

    The physics of her motions, and my erection's desire to

    stand upright, worked in concert to move the elastic waistband downward from
    where it had secured my cock against my stomach. The exposure was hidden from view
    by the hem of her sundress, but I easily distinguished the new sensation of her
    warm, wet cotton panties rubbing directly on the sensitive underside of my
    shaft.

    We gazed lustfully into each other's eyes, heavily inhaling

    and exhaling, as Emily sat upright and wantonly pleasured herself on my length
    and girth. The movements pulled at the fabric of her sundress, rhythmically
    becoming taut with each cycling motion and imprinting her stiff nipples through
    the thin fabric. The temptation was too much, and my hands slid up the sides of
    her torso to cover her breasts through the dress.

    Emily kept her eyes locked on mine when she brushed my hands

    away, then slipped the thin spaghetti straps off her shoulders allowing the top
    of the dress to fall away and pool around her waist. She continued grinding on
    my cock and watched intently as I took in the sight of her naked breasts for
    the first time. The perky mounds were in perfect proportion to her tiny frame
    and jostled slightly with each of her pelvic thrusts.

    My fixation was interrupted by the longing in her voice,

    "Touch me Michael."

    The luxuriously tender pillows conformed to the curvature of

    my hands, slightly puffy areolas and hardened nipples pressing into my palms. I
    kneaded them with fascination as Emily hastened her pelvic motions and
    vigorously crushed our genitals together with all her body weight. The product
    of her arousal copiously soaking through the thin panties and generously
    lubricating our 'dry' mating.

    I cupped her breasts with my hands and squeezed them such

    that her nipples were gently pinched between my thumbs and forefingers.

    The erotic sensations sent both of us over the edge. Emily's

    movements on my shaft became erratic and her entire body began trembling in the
    throes of orgasm. Simultaneously, my heavily swollen balls constricted and a
    torrent of cum surged through my cock, pumping stream after stream of milky
    fluid into the sundress that still draped over our joined mid-sections.

    Emily collapsed onto my chest and laid motionless, only

    rising and falling with the movements of my chest as we both attempted to catch
    our breath. Once our breathing slowed, she spoke somewhat exhaustedly,
    "You didn't let me answer you earlier. I love you too, Michael
    Walker."

    We laid together in post-orgasmic bliss for several minutes,

    lightly kissing and caressing. The repercussions weren't immediate like they
    were a few weeks before, but they did come.

    We were both hit with the carnal reality of the situation

    when Emily climbed off me and we saw the front of her sundress completely
    soaked with a combination of our sexual fluids. It shouldn't have been a
    surprise, but the lewdly soiled dress was a graphic trigger for our guilt and
    shame.

    We didn't have any way of cleaning and drying the dress in a

    reasonable amount of time, so we placed it in a grocery bag for her to take
    back to the dorm. Luckily, we had a small selection of women's gardening
    clothes in the hardware store, so Emily wrapped herself in a towel and we went
    down to the second floor, requisitioning a pair of women's overalls and a
    t-shirt.

    It was better than nudity, but the ill-fitting clothing was

    an obvious sign that something was wrong, and it wouldn't be difficult for
    friends to figure out what was going on. We just hoped we could get her back to
    the dorm without someone noticing.

    I led the way, walking a fair distance ahead of Emily and

    giving a signal behind my back if I saw someone approaching. On my cue, she
    would duck behind a tree, shrub, building, or other form of cover until they
    passed.

    Our system worked well, but it could only go so far. Men

    weren't allowed in the women's dorm, so she would have to make the last leg of
    the journey on her own. We peered through the glass entryway and only saw the
    front desk student-worker who happened to be distracted with an iPad and
    earbuds. Emily made a break for it, quickly opening the door and scampering
    through the lobby until I lost sight of her.

    I lingered outside the dorm for what seemed like forever

    before receiving a text, "Made it. Had to hide in the stairway for a
    couple minutes. Nobody saw me."

    "Ok, good."

    The adrenaline of sneaking Emily home faded as I walked back

    to the apartment, and it was replaced by the oppressive weight of guilt and
    remorse. Not only had I yielded to weakness and temptation, but we had broken
    even the most liberal definitions of Christian integrity and purity. Certainly
    privately, and almost publicly.

    Overwhelmed by Guilt.

    I skipped my classes the next morning and laid in bed,

    wallowing in my guilt. Emily must have been doing the same, because I received
    a text from one of her friends asking if she was ok. She wasn't in class and
    wasn't answering her phone.

    I called and she answered immediately, though with a somber

    voice, "Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

    "I didn't feel like going."

    "Me either."

    "Emily, we have to talk about Valentine's Day. We both

    know what we're doing is wrong; we can't keep going on this roller coaster of
    euphoria and guilt."

    She cried, and spoke in a trembling voice between sniffles,

    "I know; but; it doesn't feel wrong; when; we're together."

    She was right and I didn't have a good retort other than

    'the Bible says,' so I just stayed silent.

    After a few moments of no sounds except for her muffled

    sobbing, she reiterated between gasps, "It; it doesn't feel wrong Michael.
    I love you; I want; nothing more than; to be; with you; emotionally; spiritually;
    sexually; and every other; way."

    I gloomily agreed, "I know it doesn't make sense. I

    love you too, more than I can express with words."

    We prayed over the phone for forgiveness and guidance.

    Finding Clarity.

    Everything Emily said was true and I ended the call with a

    sense of clarity. There was only one acceptable solution, and it was one that I
    embraced with enthusiasm and zeal. I cleaned myself up, put on a respectable
    outfit, and marched with determination over to Dr. Fulton's office.

    I knocked on his door and heard his call, "Come

    in."

    He extended his handshake in greeting as I shut the door

    behind me.

    "Hello Michael."

    "Hi Dr. Fulton."

    He looked at me knowingly, "I presume this is not an

    academic visit?"

    "No, sir. I've come to ask for Emily's hand in

    marriage."

    Dr. Fulton smiled and said, "I suspected this question

    would be coming soon."

    He paused in thought for a few excruciating moments, then

    queried, "Do you love my daughter?"

    He already knew the answer and was more focused on assessing

    my sincerity.

    "Yes sir, with all my heart, mind, and soul."

    "Have you been a spiritual leader and maintained

    integrity during your courtship?"

    I anticipated he would ask me that question, or something

    similar, but it still gave me pause. He was my future wife's father and I owed
    him an honest answer.

    "I've always sought God's Will and direction for us,

    but I've made mistakes. I vow to continue seeking God and be the best leader
    and husband I can be for your daughter."

    He raised his eyebrows a bit and probed deeper, "Have

    you maintained my daughter's purity?"

    "We've; I've had physical temptations and, with God's

    Grace, have done my best to resolve them with integrity. I know that is a vague
    answer, so I'll cut to the root of the issue and tell you that we are both
    still virgins."

    I paused for a second, then added, "I'm ashamed that I

    couldn't come to you with a simple 'Yes' to that question."

    "I can respect that. Thank you for your honesty."

    He stood and extended his hand to me, "I've never seen

    Emily look at someone the way she looks at you. She loves you very much,
    Michael. Make her happy."

    Plans.

    I used the rest of that morning for planning, then enlisted

    help from four of Emily's closest friends that afternoon. I laid out the plan
    and the girls were giddy with excitement, eager to do everything I asked. I
    only hoped they could keep the secret for 24-hours.

    Early the next morning, I sent Emily a text message, "I

    love you, Emily. I think it might be good to enjoy some simple time together; maybe
    get some ice cream. Will you take a walk with me this afternoon?"

    "I would like that. I love you, too."

    I walked to the residence hall dressed in a nice pair of

    linen khakis and a white button-down linen shirt. Emily was sitting on a bench
    outside the entrance dressed in a white knit summer dress and white, flat
    strappy sandals. It was a simple dress with modest neckline and hemline, but
    she made it look absolutely stunning. Her woven wire necklace and bracelet
    complemented the dress nicely.

    "I see you have your walking shoes on."

    She giggled, pointed her feet outward, and said sweetly,

    "Yes, I do!"

    I took her hand in mine and we strolled through campus

    talking and laughing just as we always had. Despite our challenges with
    temptation, our relationship was simple and effortless. It just felt right.

    As we approached Stern Hall hand-in-hand, I passively

    steered us through one of the passageways leading into the courtyard garden. Emerging
    into the courtyard, Emily covered her nose and mouth with her hands, and tears
    began streaming down her cheeks.

    Her parents, my parents, and all our closest friends stood

    in a semi-circle around the back side of the central fountain. A cascade of red,
    pink, and white paper hearts hung from the courtyard trees and shrubs, while a
    trail of red rose petals led toward a simple white chair surrounded by a dense
    mat of rose petals.

    I ushered her to the chair where she sat, and I kneeled in

    front of her.

    "Emily, you are my best friend and I love you with

    every fiber of my being. I know you are the marriage partner God made for me
    and, if you will have me, I want to spend every moment of the rest of my life
    with you. Will you marry me? Will you be my Valentine?"

    Nobody standing around us understood the significance of

    that last question, but we did, and that's all that mattered.

    Emily screeched, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" and threw her

    arms around me as I kneeled in front of her. Everyone clapped and cheered as I
    slid a woven wire and resistor engagement ring on her finger, and we held each
    other tightly in an all-consuming embrace.

    I could feel Emily's streaming tears as our cheeks pressed

    together and she whispered in my ear, "I want you so bad right now,
    Michael Walker."

    I whispered back, "After we're married, Emily Fulton,

    it can be Valentine's every day."

    Setting A Date.

    Emily didn't waste any time planning the wedding and quickly

    set a date for the end of July based on earliest availability of the church and
    reception venue. She chose a beautiful, historic lakeside retreat center that
    was once a hunting club for titans of the industrial revolution. She
    occasionally asked my opinion on things, but I wanted it to be her day, and my
    'opinion' always supported hers.

    I told Mr. Jacobs the news, to which he responded,

    "It's about time you married that girl!"

    He was also thrilled that I would be staying in town through

    the summer and could work full-time at the hardware store. He asked me to take
    a more active role in managing the store and insisted on a rather healthy
    increase in pay. I offered to start paying rent, but he refused saying it
    wasn't really costing him anything for me to live there, and I needed to save
    the money.

    Emily was fortunate to be offered a paid position at the

    Christian school summer camp and readily accepted.

    Graduation came in early May. I received my Bachelor of

    Civil Engineering degree, and Emily received her Bachelor of Education degree.
    We both walked the stage and went out for a nice dinner with our families.
    Though our parents were very different, they genuinely enjoyed each other's
    company and conversation was easy. Mom asked Emily a lot of questions about her
    teaching degree and seemed to be reliving fond memories of her own college
    years.

    Both of our respective parents quizzed us on our plans for

    living arrangements and careers after marriage. We responded that we both had
    some interviews scheduled but were still open minded and seeking God's
    guidance.

    Emily and I celebrated the achievement alone together by

    going for ice cream and a long walk after dinner.

    With a wedding within sight, we had vowed to resist our

    physical desires, limiting ourselves to hugs and 'reasonable' kissing. Kissing
    escalated a little beyond reasonable on a few occasions, including on a bench
    that night after graduation, but we did pretty well for the most part. Our
    clothes stayed on and there weren't any orgasms.

    Uninhibited Intimacy

    The wedding was beautiful, but not nearly as beautiful as

    Emily. I stood in my tuxedo at the front of the church and was moved to tears
    as her dad walked her down the aisle. I loved her beyond all words, and she was
    absolutely radiant.

    She seemingly floated down the aisle in a stunning white

    satin and lace dress. The satin bottom billowed outward from a narrow-ribboned
    waistline into a simple, unadorned floor-length skirt. In contrast, the top was
    a fitted satin bodice with sweetheart neckline, ornately overlayed with lace
    patterning. The lace extended above the satin as a sheer lace fabric to create
    a secondary rounded neckline and full sleeves. Her strawberry blond hair was
    pulled back into a small bun and adorned with wisps of baby's breath flowers.
    She was the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on.

    The pastor led us through traditional vows after both of us

    took a couple minutes to exchange our own personal, heartfelt words. Once
    complete, our friends and family cheered as the pastor announced, "You may
    kiss your bride."

    The reception was equally as beautiful as the wedding. Emily

    had done an amazing job orchestrating the decorations, dinner, and procession
    of activities.

    While dinner was served, we led each other around the large

    timber-frame hall, introducing each other to our respective friends and
    families that the other didn't know and chatting with those we did.

    It was a whirlwind experience, and our first dance was also

    the first 'alone-time' we had together since saying 'I do'. Emily reached her
    arms upward and hung them around my neck, while mine encircled her torso. We
    held each other tight, making slow circles in time with the music. Emily pulled
    my neck downward and we kissed as we spun.

    I whispered in her ear, "Will you be my Valentine

    tonight?"

    She responded with a deep, lustful kiss then said, "I'm

    counting the minutes."

    After that, so was I. We continued dancing and mingling with

    guests, but my mind and body were distracted, and growing increasingly eager to
    physically express my love with Emily.

    At the end of the evening, we said our goodbyes to friends

    and family that remained before packing Emily and her billowing skirt into the
    backseat of a rented Lincoln Town Car. My best man and Emily's maid-of-honor
    sat in the front seat and drove us to a historic bed & breakfast where I
    had reserved the honeymoon suite for the night.

    The four of us chatted casually and reminisced the evening's

    highlights as we made the 20-minute drive. Emily and I held hands in the back
    seat, resisting the urge to maul each other in view of the unmarried couple in
    the front seat.

    The exterior stone and brick of the old lumber baron mansion

    was softly illuminated as we approach the auto court, giving a regal sense of
    arrival. We said goodbye to our chauffeurs and quickly made our way up the
    monumental entry stairs and into the foyer. A trail of red rose petals led from
    the foyer, up an intricately carved-wood staircase, and through the large oak
    doors of the honeymoon suite.

    We held hands as we slowly climbed the staircase, then

    practically ran into the suite as fast as Emily's dress would allow. I closed
    the doors behind us then swept Emily into my arms, following the trail of rose
    petals to a king-size four poster bed.

    I laid her on the bed and climbed over the top of her,

    suspending myself over her tiny frame and looking into her eyes, "I love
    you Emily Walker."

    "I love you too, Michael Walker."

    I leaned downward and pressed my lips against hers with

    hunger and desire. She matched my eagerness and our mouths frantically searched
    for a deeper and deeper joining. I struggled to shed my tuxedo coat as I
    suspended myself above her, and she impatiently tugged at my shirt.

    Recognizing it wasn't working, I stood at the side of the

    bed and removed my coat and shirt. Emily was still reclined on the bed, fully
    dressed, watching intently. My shoes and pants followed, leaving me standing
    before her in a white pair of boxer shorts, her eyes locked on my intense
    erection straining against the fabric.

    I offered my hand and helped her slide to the edge of the

    bed. She stood with me and we shared a few slower, less frenzied kisses before
    she said, "Help me out of this Michael."

    I sat on the edge of the bed as she turned her back to me.

    My fingers fumbled nervously as they unfastened a series of buttons and hooked
    clasps running from her neck to the small of her back. The dress fell open as I
    progressed downward and revealed her flawless fair skin, interrupted only by a
    white lace strapless bra.

    Emily pulled her arms from the transparent lace dress

    sleeves and allowed the garment to slide down her petite body, pooling at her
    feet. It was my turn to stare as she stood before me in the bra, white
    thigh-high stockings, and tanga style panties. She kicked off her heels and
    turned to face me. My eyes lustfully surveyed her incredible body, including
    the veiled bits beneath the transparent lace panties and bra cups.

    She watched my amazement and, when my eyes met hers again,

    deftly opened the front clasp of her bra and let it fall to the floor. We
    kissed for a few moments with her standing and me sitting on the edge of the
    bed, my hands freely roaming her body.

    Emily broke our kiss and kneeled at the bedside in front of

    me. Running her hands over the top my thighs and under my boxers, she
    commented, "I've wanted this for so long."

    She tugged at my boxer shorts and I lifted my hips, my cock

    springing upright as the restraining cloth eased downward. Emily pushed the
    boxers off my legs then turned her attention to my towering rod. She stared
    with a sense of wonder at the first real penis she had ever seen.

    The difference in our body sizes was dramatic and my

    slightly-above-average-size cock looked absolutely enormous in comparison to
    her petite hands and body, nearly similar in length and girth to her nearby
    forearm.

    She reached forward and trepidatiously traced her slender

    fingertips along the length of my shaft.

    I sensed her nervousness and gave reassurance, "I'm

    your husband, Emily. It belongs to you now."

    She smiled at the encouragement and more confidently

    explored with her hands, moving it from side to side and inspecting from all
    angles. Her fingertips traced lightly up and down my shaft before wrapping her
    fingers around it to feel the mass in her hands.

    The touch of her soft hands was an incredible new sensation

    and my cock throbbed with anticipation, veins bulging and the mushroom head
    turning an angry shade of purple.

    "Ah. that feels so good!"

    She began slowly stroking one hand up and down my shaft

    while her other gently explored my low-hanging balls. I was on the edge and
    small rivers of pre-cum streamed out my tip and down my shaft to lubricate
    Emily's hand.

    Straining to maintain control, I grunted, "Stop! I'm

    going to explode!"

    She intensified her motions and begged in a determined and

    seductive voice, "Cum for me Michael; Cum for me;”

    I wanted to warn her, but my mouth froze open, unable to

    speak as my butt clenched and hips arched forward. I could feel powerful jets
    of fluid racing the length of my cock before spraying indiscriminately out the
    tip. My senses returned from momentary unconsciousness to feel Emily's soft
    hand lazily milking residual drips of fluid from my still hard cock, and to see
    her neck and chest covered in my cum, some of it forming a river between her
    breasts and flowing downward across her stomach.

    I panicked, "I'm so sorry!" and started to get up

    to find a towel.

    Emily pushed me back down and continued slowly fondling me,

    "Shhh; that was amazing!"

    I pulled her from kneeling bedside to lay on top of me on

    the bed, our naked bodies pressed together skin-on-skin for the very first
    time. We kissed passionately as we rolled on the bed, neither of us bothered by
    the cum smeared between our torsos.

    Our hands confidently explored each other's bodies as we

    playfully kissed and wrestled on the bed. Emily gasped when my hand came to
    rest over her panty-covered sex and slowly traced the outline of her swollen
    folds. Her legs instinctively opened to allow my hand greater freedom.

    I caressed the excitement-soaked fabric for a few moments

    before gently tugging at the waistband. Emily understood my unspoken request
    and quickly rolled on her back, arched her hips, and threw the sodden panties
    onto the floor.

    I rolled on my side to kiss her and slid my hand down her

    naked body until I felt a small triangular tuft of hair. My fingers combed
    through the soft hair, then pushed onward, running down the length of her wet,
    flowered opening and feeling the direct sensations of her heat and moisture for
    the first time. Repeating the motions, my fingers repetitively worked through
    her furrows, eliciting squirms and moans as we kissed.

    Having no experience, my fingers roamed blindly. I simply

    took cues from Emily's pleasure, and repeated actions that she seemed to like.
    Finding her two most sensitive spots, I alternated between curling fingers into
    her tunnel and circling my slickened fingertips around her hard nub. After a
    few cycles, Emily pushed my hand away and rolled on top of me, saying, "I
    need you inside of me; I want you to make me your wife."

    She straddled my lap and grasped for my still rock-hard cock

    beneath her. She held it vertical and straddled over top of it in a squatted
    position.

    With a lustful and determined expression, she seated the

    engorged head against her opening. I felt an intense pressure on the tip of my
    cock before a tight ring of warmth and wetness enveloped the head and Emily
    moaned loudly, "Oh;”

    She paused with a look of satisfaction on her face before

    wiggling her hips and working downward another inch or so, letting out another
    extended moan as she progressed, "Oh."

    Her hips pulled up slightly then pressed down again with a

    staccato, "Ah!"

    I was worried about her and asked, "Does it hurt?"

    "A; little; but; feels; so; good!"

    She repeatedly lifted her hips and then incrementally impaled

    herself further, yelping "Ah; Ah, Ah!" in time with her descending
    hips.

    I was so focused on Emily that I didn't really comprehend my

    own pleasure until she shifted from squatting to a kneeling position, which
    drove the full length of my cock deep into her womb.

    We both moaned at the same time, me with a guttural "Uh;”

    and her with a contented "Oh."

    It was then that Emily began rocking her hips forward and

    backward, intently pleasuring herself on my rod while my hands kneaded her
    perky cum-covered breasts. The rocking motions of her pelvis intensified, very
    purposefully grinding her clit against my pubic bone and pushing my thick
    mushroom head firmly against her cervix.

    It had only been a couple minutes since our first

    penetration began, but the exquisite feel of her tight tunnel had my balls
    quickly boiling toward an imminent release. My inner primal instincts took
    control and my hands slid downward to roughly grasp Emily's ass and pull her
    strongly onto my cock with each motion of her hips.

    She responded to my urgency and furiously thrashed herself

    on my impaled rod, her firm breasts jolting with our frenetic search for
    release. My hips instinctively bucked upward and I lost all control as my balls
    began pumping stream after stream of my love deep into her womb.
    Simultaneously, Emily let out a sharp cry of pleasure as her liquid climax
    flooded over my pelvis and her body shook in short, truncated movements.

    We both gasped for breath as Emily's tremors subsided and

    she collapsed on top of me, my cock still enveloped in her slick warmth.

    I ran my fingers lovingly through her disheveled hair while

    she recovered on my chest, then guided her chin upward toward mine for an
    extended gentle kiss before softly saying, "I love you, Emily Walker.
    Happy Valentine's Day."

    She responded, "Happy Valentine's Day. I love you

    too."

    Consumed.

    Last night's consummation of our marriage was followed by a

    shared shower and several more rounds of love making before we both succumbed
    to exhaustion.

    I was awakened this morning by soft light streaming through

    the mansion's leaded glass windows, while Emily continued her slumber under the
    king size duvet. It was a surreal sense of awareness waking up in the same bed,
    both of us still nude, with remnants of our passion dried on our bodies.

    No shame. No guilt. Just overwhelming love for my wife.

    Selfishly wanting to etch the ethereal experience into my

    brain, I sit in this armchair thanking God for his Goodness; admiring my
    bride's bare leg extending from under the duvet; and wondering what the future
    holds for our perfect love.

    Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts, for Literotica.

    43 min
  • Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 2
    Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 2
    Next Generation Discipleship and Social Group.

    Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.



    As it turned out, I would learn a lot more about the subject

    during NG group a couple weeks later. The study that week was on 'integrity in
    relationships'. The study material was pretty general and covered all kinds of
    relationships, both social and business. However, discussion among the
    unmarried college students naturally morphed into a dialogue of biblical
    perspectives on dating relationships and sexual purity.

    The group consisted of students from very conservative

    Powell College, so the conversation was much what you would expect in terms of
    defining physical boundaries in dating relationships, avoiding temptation,
    abstaining from pre-marital sex, etc.

    Emily was sitting a few chairs to my right and noticeably

    fidgeted with her Bible cover while others talked about various 'Christian'
    guidelines for dating. She listened politely to several volleys of points and
    counterpoints before adding her own perspective to the conversation.

    "Sexual purity is important, but I think we're getting

    lost in legalism and missing God's larger purpose. The whole purpose of
    'dating' is to find the spouse God has intended for us. That shouldn't be done
    randomly or haphazardly. We should be building serious platonic friendships and
    know that marriage is a very real possibility before ever going on a
    date."

    She continued after a slight pause, "For me personally,

    I don't want to 'date'. I want to be attracted to a guy that I already love as
    my best friend, and then have him 'court' me as an intentional commitment
    leading to marriage."

    She hesitated for an instant, then added, "I know that

    sounds unromantic and clinical; and maybe I'm being naïve since I've never
    dated; but I don't think there would be as much temptation if the relationship
    is defined by God's larger plan."

    My mental wheels started turning as Emily's comment pivoted

    the group's conversation toward God's intent for marriage. Everything she said
    made a lot of sense and I spent the next couple days reading the Bible and
    studying everything I could find on the topic. Meanwhile, I couldn't help but
    analyze our friendship, and my feelings toward her, within that newly
    discovered context.

    Emily’s note initiative.

    The next time I saw Emily was Saturday morning when she

    stopped by the hardware store to say hello. Unfortunately, there were a lot of
    customers in the store and I was busy helping an older couple choose a new
    mailbox. Emily waved while the couple debated between themselves whether or not
    to spend the extra couple dollars for a sturdier metal box vs. a plastic one.
    She wrote something on a yellow notepad by the cash register, then waved
    goodbye as she walked out of the store.

    The couple decided to go for the metal mailbox, which I

    thought was a good decision, and then I made sure they had the mounting
    hardware they would need. I went on to assist several other customers, and it
    was probably an hour before I was finally able to look at Emily's note.

    Beautiful flowing handwriting was perfectly aligned on the

    ruled notepad and read, "Just stopped to say hi! I'll be studying at the
    library this afternoon if you are free. Text me." She signed the bottom of
    the note with a simple "-E" accompanied by a smiley face and her cell
    phone number.

    I involuntarily smiled at the sight of her smiley face and

    phone number. The smiley face was just cute. The number was a welcome new step
    in our friendship.

    I saved her number in my phone and texted, "Sorry, I

    work until 6."

    I did want to see her and, on a whim, quickly hit send on a

    follow-up text, "Root beer at Muggs?"

    My phone chimed almost immediately, "Text me when you

    are leaving the store."

    Mr. Jacobs and I locked up the store at 6 o'clock and I

    texted Emily shortly after to let her know I was leaving.

    The local dog 'n suds type window-service stand was popular

    with Powell students and townsfolk alike, and was located just a couple blocks
    away from the hardware store. I was there in just a couple minutes and found
    the sunny April day had given a lot of other people the same idea. I didn't see
    Emily yet, but I figured I should claim a place in the ordering line.

    She arrived a few minutes later, fashionably dressed in a

    knee length olive-color skirt, light-tan corded sweater, medium-brown tights,
    and light-tan laced-boot style heels. We greeted each other with a friendly hug
    and then discussed what to order as the line crept forward.

    When it was our turn at the window, Emily ordered a

    chili-cheese dog, fries, and root beer. I did the same and we both paid for our
    respective meals. We shuffled a few steps over to the service window and,
    within seconds, received our tray of food. All the picnic tables were occupied
    and we waited a few moments as a family stood up and gathered their trash.

    Once seated, Emily opened her petite mouth as wide as she

    could and fiercely attacked the comparatively huge chili dog. I chuckled at the
    odd contrast of neatly-dressed, normally prim-and-proper Emily sitting there
    with an overstuffed mouth and chili running down the back of her hand.

    She facetiously reprimanded me with a mouth full of chili

    dog, "Stop it! These things are hard to eat!"

    After talking for more than an hour, we disposed our trash

    and exited the corral of picnic tables onto the sidewalk. I didn't want our
    time together to end and asked, "Would you like to go for a walk?"

    "Yes, that would be nice."

    We slowly strolled side-by-side toward the Powell campus as

    the sun moved lower in the sky. Remembering back to our conversation about
    Haiti, I asked, "Have you made plans for the summer?"

    "Yes, and I should thank you for that. I did a lot of

    thinking and praying after we talked that day at the hardware store. I'm going
    to stay here and volunteer at the Christian school's summer camp for special
    needs children."

    "That's great, but why thank me?"

    "Well, I was encouraging you that God can use you in

    great ways in your hometown; which I truly believe by the way; but, I think I
    was actually talking more to myself that day than I was you. You made me
    realize I strayed from God's calling. I chased the glamour of overseas
    adventures when I should have been right here reaching people in my own
    community."

    She told me more about the summer camp as we slowly followed

    the meandering campus pathways, and it made me happy to hear the excitement and
    joy in her voice.

    The topic of our summers dwindled to a close and we were

    content to walk in silence, just enjoying the time together.

    After a little while, Emily somewhat hesitantly asked,

    "Michael; how did you feel about the NG study last week? You didn't say
    anything during the discussion."

    We happened to be passing a bench when she asked the question

    and I gestured for us to sit down. We did, and I started talking from my heart
    without giving any thought to what I was saying.

    "Honestly, I hadn't put much thought into relationships

    or marriage before that study. Not that I don't want to get married, I do. I'm
    just so awkward around girls; er, women; you know that. Dating was never a
    relevant subject for me, so let's just say there wasn't an urgent need to study
    God's intent for it."

    Emily started to interject, "You're;” but

    truncated her comment when she realized I wasn't finished with my thought.

    "I've done a lot of praying, studying and thinking

    since Wednesday. While courtship isn't directly spelled out in Scripture, I
    think what you said makes a lot of sense. I believe God's intent is for people
    to truly know the real intellectual, emotional, and spiritual soul of the other
    person, and to seek God's guidance for them as a potential spouse. I think most
    of that can be done within the context of platonic friendship; without the, er;
    complications; of traditional dating."

    Our eyes met before I very intentionally suggested,

    "Mental and physical attraction is important too, but I think everyone
    knows that pretty much immediately without dating."

    Emily simply replied, "Yes, I think you are right about

    feeling attraction right away."

    She said it with normal tone and inflection in her voice,

    but her eyes gave her away. She had feelings for me, but was waiting for me as
    the Christian man to be the leader of the relationship.

    I was honest and a thinly veiled in my response, "This

    whole idea is very new to me. I know how I feel, but I need to do a lot more
    thinking and praying on the subject."

    Emily smiled warmly and we resumed our walk with more

    mundane topics of conversation.

    Thinking and Praying.

    I did do a lot more thinking and praying on the subject over

    the following week. I knew how I felt about Emily, but I also knew that the
    idea of courtship was a huge commitment. Did God place her in my life as my
    future wife, or just as a really good friend? The last thing I wanted to do was
    take that decision lightly and end up hurting Emily.

    The timing was also terrible. The spring term was ending in

    3 weeks and we both had geographically separate summer commitments, her at the
    Christian school summer camp, and me at Burkee Hardware.

    I didn't feel it was right to take the next step with her

    then spend the next 3 months apart. I also didn't think it was fair to leave
    her in limbo for 3 months and decided we needed to have a real conversation.

    I was working at the hardware store that Friday afternoon

    and sent her a text, "Are you free tonight?"

    She responded a few minutes later, "Yes."

    "Hardware store at 6?"

    "K"

    Emily arrived a couple minutes after 6 o'clock, just as I

    was flipping the 'OPEN' sign in the front display window to 'CLOSED'. She
    smiled and cutely waved to me through the glass as she opened the creaky screen
    door. Dressed fashionably as always, she wore nicely fitting blue jeans and a
    white tailored button-down blouse that was thin enough to reveal the subtle shadow
    of a lace bra beneath. The outfit was smartly accented with matching black
    leather ballet flats, belt, and handbag.

    The screen door squeaked shut and I greeted her from the

    front display platform, "Hi Emily. Would you mind closing the solid door
    and flipping the lock?"

    "Sure."

    She did and we gave each other a brief hello-hug after I

    stepped down from the platform. We sat facing each other in a couple old wood
    benches next to the front counter. Emily placed her handbag on the floor next
    to her, then sat rather formally on the bench with hands folded in her lap.

    I had been building up courage for the conversation all day

    and couldn't bring myself to make small-talk.

    "I've been doing a lot of praying since we talked last

    Saturday, and I would like to talk with you about it some more. I'm probably
    going to stumble my way through this, so please let me get everything out
    before you respond."

    Emily mouthed an almost silent, "Ok," while she

    sat with a concerned expression on her face and nervously fidgeting hands.

    "Emily, I want you to know that you are very special to

    me. From the day I met you Freshman year, I thought you were amazing. I was
    just a stranger to you that day, but you overlooked my awkwardness and
    genuinely cared about me as a person. And not just me, you treat everyone you
    meet with that same authenticity. You are truly a gift to everyone in your
    life."

    My eyes began to swell with tears as I spoke, "I'm so

    thankful for the time we've been able to spend together this year. You're my
    best friend; and I think maybe God brought us together to be more than friends;
    but I'm scared;”

    Emily brushed away tears that were streaming down her

    cheeks.

    "I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you;”

    I gathered myself for a few moments before continuing,

    "I want you to know that I take any commitment to courtship, and to you,
    very seriously. As much as my heart is screaming at me, I don't think it's wise
    to make an emotional decision right now; or for us to start that kind of
    commitment as a long-distance relationship over the summer."

    We were both openly crying. "I'm so sorry Emily. I hope

    you can forgive;”

    She interrupted me, "Michael! These aren't sad tears.

    You are the most incredible man; and my best friend. These are tears of
    happiness that you have the same feelings for me as I do for you."

    We both stood and organically melted into each other's arms,

    my shirt absorbing her tears as she nestled her head against my chest.

    Her voice was muffled by my chest when she said, "I

    appreciate that you are seeking God's plan us, and not just following our
    emotions. I'll be here when the time is right, no matter the answer."

    I truly appreciated Emily's graciousness and patience, but

    it was still a very unsatisfactory conclusion for me. I suspect it was for her too.

    Unspoken Understanding.

    Emily and I spent as much time together as we could before

    the school year ended. In an unspoken understanding, we put aside serious
    relationship topics and just enjoyed a simple, everyday friendship. One of my
    best memories of that period, was when Emily stopped by the store for one of
    her normal 'hello' social calls on the last Wednesday of the school year.

    I had promised Mr. Jacobs that I would price a recently

    received shipment of new inventory before leaving for the summer. He was
    old-school, so that meant manually stickering each item with a pricing gun. I
    was just starting the process when Mr. Jacobs directed Emily toward the stock
    room where I was busy opening boxes.

    There was a lot to do and I convinced her to help apply

    pricing stickers while I focused on opening boxes and making count tallies on
    the inventory sheet. I gave a quick training session on how to use the pricing
    gun, then watched in amusement as her slightly OCD personality expressed itself
    through the pricing gun. She would carefully verify the listed price for each
    item, set the dial on the gun, then meticulously apply the stickers so they had
    the same location and orientation on each item.

    We worked well together and made it through most of the

    boxes by closing time. I left a few items for last because they needed a
    special vendor symbol added to the sticker. Rather than teaching Emily, I
    dialed the symbol on the gun and quickly slapped on the stickers, much too
    haphazardly for her liking.

    "Hey! Give me that!"

    I mischievously mocked, "What?; this???" while

    holding the gun over her head.

    She jumped unsuccessfully to reach it and I retaliated by

    slapping her shoulder with the gun, leaving behind a $3.49 sticker.

    She protested futilely, "Stop! Not fair!"

    I held the gun back over her head using both hands to adjust

    the dial, "You're right, you're worth more than that. How about
    $5.99."

    She playfully punched my stomach and laughed uncontrollably

    while I landed a dozen more pricing stickers on her back and arms.

    I reveled in hearing the pure innocent joy in Emily's laugh

    and let my guard down a little too much. She swiped the gun out of my hand and
    proceeded to dance like a boxer while occasionally landing sticker hits on my
    legs and torso.

    Mr. Jacobs must have heard the commotion. He opened the

    stock room door to find Emily dancing around me with the gun, and both of us
    covered in price stickers. I made the mistake of looking toward the door, and
    Emily took the opportunity to land three more quick shots. Mr. Jacobs thought
    that was the funniest thing ever and his booming laugh joined ours in echoing
    through the building.

    Separation Woes.

    Emily and I hugged and cried as we said goodbye for the

    summer. We talked on the phone at least once every day and texted constantly
    that summer, sharing every little detail about our days.

    True to Emily's encouragement over the last year, I was much

    more intentional in my conversations with everyone; friends, family, customers,
    acquaintances; everyone. It was transformational to develop 'real' relationships
    with people that I had known superficially for many years and, in two
    instances, to be able to see them come to faith in Christ.

    When the Burkee's returned from vacation at the end of the

    summer, I insisted on taking them out for dinner at a really nice 'big city'
    restaurant. Well, it wasn't 5-star, but it was the best restaurant in the next
    larger town a half hour away.

    It was the final year of our annual tuition-vacation

    arrangement and I wanted to thank them for all they had done for me. I
    expressed a sincere debt of gratitude that I didn't think I would ever be able
    to repay, but they repeatedly assured me it was a mutually beneficial situation
    and, if anything, the outstanding debt was on their side of the ledger.

    The extended summer vacations had brought back a connection

    in their relationship that they hadn't felt since they were young. In fact,
    they were hoping that they could work out a similar agreement with another high
    school student they had hired and come to trust.

    Strangely, being physically apart from Emily for the summer

    allowed me to gain clarity. She was everything I could ever want or need in a
    life partner. We were spiritually, intellectually, and emotionally aligned. She
    was my best friend, and a beautiful person inside and out. We simply made each
    other better. And most of all; I realized what I felt was more than fleeting
    attraction. I resolutely believed that God meant us to be together.

    Talking to Her Father.

    Back in Powell on Tuesday before classes started, I was

    eager to see Emily but first needed to talk to her father.

    The Fulton's were a very conservative and traditional

    family, like Powell College itself, and I wanted to honor that. I can't say I
    knew her parents well, but Emily had introduced me at church and I usually had
    short exchanges with them on Sunday mornings. Dr. Fulton was a pleasant, though
    formal man of average height and build. Mrs. Fulton was simply an older version
    of Emily in every way, both appearance and personality.

    Professors were required by the college to hold open office

    hours the week before classes, and I knew that would be my best opportunity to
    find him without Emily knowing. I knocked on his door early Tuesday afternoon
    with a firm response of, "Come in."

    I opened the door and stepped in, "Hello Dr.

    Fulton."

    He started flipping through some papers on his desk and

    spoke inquisitively, "Hello Michael. Are you enrolled in one of my courses
    this term?"

    I felt the unconscious need to match his formality,

    "No, sir. This call is of a personal nature. Would you prefer I contact
    you outside of office hours?"

    Intrigued, he set his reading glasses on the desk and leaned

    back in his chair, "What can I do for you Michael?"

    "It's about Emily, sir. I have had the privilege of

    getting to know her over the past three years, and think she is an amazing,
    Godly woman. We've become very good friends and I believe God may have larger
    plans for us."

    I paused briefly without receiving any immediate reaction

    from Dr. Fulton, then continued, "I would like to ask your permission to
    pursue a relationship with Emily."

    "Define relationship."

    "Courtship, sir. I would like to court her with the

    intent of progressing our relationship toward marriage."

    Seemingly satisfied with that response, he asked, "Have

    you talked about this with Emily?"

    "We talked about our growing feelings for each other

    before summer break. I think we both knew we were heading this direction, but
    God really gave me clarity over the summer. With your permission, I intend to
    ask her tomorrow."

    "Are you committed to the Biblical model of

    marriage?"

    "Yes sir."

    "That includes being the spiritual leader in the

    relationship, loving and honoring Emily as Christ would the Church; and
    upholding her purity before marriage?"

    "Yes sir."

    "Very well then. You have my permission."

    He stood to shake my hand, "I know she fancies you. I

    suspect I'll be hearing news soon."

    Carnival.

    That afternoon, the Christian school was holding a carnival

    and then an evening talent show for all the summer camp staff and counselors,
    so I knew I wouldn't see Emily that first day back in town. I spent the rest of
    the day shopping for groceries, getting settled back into the hardware store
    apartment, and catching up with Mr. Jacobs.

    Emily texted me throughout the day, lamenting how much she

    wanted to see me. I encouraged her to enjoy the day and that I looked forward
    to seeing her too. Over a series of texts, we made plans to meet the next day
    for lunch at Muggs.

    That night, I had a vivid dream of sitting on a bench with

    Emily, talking about our future, and presenting her with a beautiful diamond
    tennis bracelet. I was startled awake soon after, and knew I wanted to give her
    a symbol of my commitment tomorrow. A diamond tennis bracelet was far outside
    of my financial reach, but I had another idea.

    I padded barefoot down the stairs in the middle of the night

    and began searching through the store for supplies to improvise a bracelet. I
    found very fine gauge stainless-steel wire, some stainless-steel crimp
    connectors, and some low-voltage electrical resistors that looked like tiny
    clear glass beads. I quickly grabbed some needle-nose pliers and a few other
    tools on my way back up to the apartment.

    Without much conscious thought, I sat at the dining table

    and my hands intuitively began weaving and scrolling the wire into an intricate
    patterned cable, embedding the glass resistors at regular intervals as I
    progressed. Once happy with the decorative cable, I did my best to guess at
    Emily's wrist size and bent it over the edge of the table to form a C-shaped
    bracelet. Finally, I trimmed the ends of the cable, then neatly folded and
    crimped the wire connectors over the loose ends of the 'C'.

    The process had taken all night and rays of morning sun were

    streaming into the Main St. windows. It wasn't Tiffany or Cartier, but I was
    pleased with the results.

    Chili Dogs.

    I approached Muggs, and from a half-block away, saw Emily

    standing by the entrance to the picnic table corral. She was a vision of beauty
    wearing white strappy sandals, a flowing pastel-pink lightweight skirt, and a
    summer-weight white rib-knit top that was fitted very nicely to her feminine
    curves. Of course, the outfit was properly accessorized with a stylish small
    white handbag and delicate necklace hanging below the top's modest rounded
    neckline.

    I shouted, "Emily!"

    Her face snapped toward me and she screamed,

    "Michael!" as she sprinted toward me, skirt fluttering in the wind.

    We met halfway and she jumped into my arms, hers wrapped

    around my neck with our cheeks side-by-side, and her feet dangling against my
    chins.

    She whispered in my ear as we held each other tight, "I

    missed you so much."

    "I missed you too! I'm so happy to see you."

    After a few moments, our embrace relaxed and I reluctantly

    squatted so she could regain footing on the sidewalk.

    We ordered our standard chili dogs, fries, and root beers

    and talked non-stop while eating. Emily told me all about the camp carnival and
    talent show, then we talked about the start of school and class schedules as we
    concluded our meal and gathered the remaining trash.

    I suggested, "It's a really nice day. Would you like to

    take a walk?"

    She smiled and lifted her leg to extend a delicate

    sandal-covered foot from beneath her skirt, "I was hoping you would ask. I
    purposely wore flats."

    I laughed and we started walking and talking. We meandered

    through campus and I passively steered us toward Stern Hall, which was a
    beautiful Gothic-revival stone building with a meticulously maintained central
    courtyard.

    We walked through one of two outdoor passageways leading

    into the otherwise loggia-enclosed space. Water bubbled and cascaded down a
    small central fountain that was surrounded by a small circular bluestone plaza
    and stone benches. Four dogwood trees filtered sunlight from above, while the
    ground was covered with formally designed boxwood hedges and flower displays.

    Emerging from the passageway into the garden, Emily

    commented, "This place is so beautiful."

    We followed a bluestone pathway toward the center of the

    courtyard and sat on a bench facing the fountain, Emily crossing her legs then
    smoothing the skirt over her knees.

    The time had come, and I tried to settle my nerves before

    speaking, "Emily, I can't even express how much I missed you this summer.
    I loved talking on the phone, but it just wasn't the same as being
    together."

    She shook her head in agreement but knew I had more to say,

    "Your friendship means the world to me Emily. You're an incredibly
    beautiful woman, inside and out, and you make me a better person; heart, mind,
    and spirit."

    Emily's eyes welled with tears.

    "I did a lot of praying over the summer, and God made

    it clear; I believe His plans for us are larger than just friendship. I think
    He made us for each other, to be together as husband and wife at some point in
    the future."

    Emily was openly sobbing in anticipation of my next words,

    "I've spoken with your father, and I would like to commit to pursuing a
    relationship with you beyond friendship. Will you join me in courtship?"

    "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

    I pulled the wire bracelet out of my pocket and placed it

    over her wrist. "I want you to know how much you mean to me. I want you to
    have this as a symbol of my commitment to you."

    She ran her slender fingertips over the scrolled wire,

    "It's beautiful! I've never seen anything like this before. Where did you
    get it?"

    I was a little ashamed to admit that I didn't have the money

    to buy real jewelry and sheepishly answered, "The hardware store; kind of;
    I made it from things I found around the store."

    "Really? How did you make it?"

    I pointed to the various hardware components and explained

    how it was all woven together.

    "It's beautiful and it's even more special that you

    made it. I love it!"

    Intimacy and Temptations.

    In many ways, the start of our courtship wasn't much

    different than our earlier friendship, except that we knew there was a purpose
    in the end. We spent time together in the same ways we had before, at church
    events and at the hardware store, but also started a weekly tradition of Sunday
    dinner at her parent's house.

    We did all the things that typical Powell students do,

    either just the two of us or with a group of friends; hung out at Muggs, played
    mini-golf, and got ice cream at the local dairy. According to prudent
    conservative customs, we always spent time together in public places, or with
    other people, in order to minimize potential temptations.

    Our emotional intimacy grew over the next six months and we

    openly expressed our affection for each other through words and small physical
    gestures like holding hands, but remained devoted to our beliefs in Christian
    integrity and sexual purity.

    It all felt very natural, like two people growing into a

    future life together.

    Gifts.

    In late January, I realized Valentine's Day was approaching

    and decided I wanted to do something special for Emily, something more personal
    than just going to a restaurant for dinner.

    She wore the wire bracelet I made her every day, and I

    decided that a matching necklace would be a great a Valentine's gift. The
    necklace was larger and more intricate than the bracelet and I worked for about
    a dozen hours over the course of a week to complete it, then wrapped it in a
    small flat box.

    His Offer.

    I walked Emily back to her dorm, hand-in-hand, after our NG

    study the following Wednesday. We talked about the study's topic of
    'predestination' as we strolled along the campus pathways and eventually
    approached her dorm.

    Pausing before saying goodbye, I somewhat timidly probed,

    "I know what I'm about to ask isn't exactly proper, but I want to do
    something special for you. Would you like to come over to my apartment for a
    Valentine's Day dinner? I would really like to cook for you."

    I was surprised by Emily's sweetly toned response that

    showed no sign of hesitation, "Yes, I would like that very much."

    She pulled my head down to her level and gave me a quick

    peck on the cheek before bounding into the dorm.

    Making A Big Meal.

    I wanted our dinner to be perfect and spent most of

    Valentine's Day afternoon shopping for the meal and decorating the apartment.

    Meal planning was a bit of a dilemma. I wanted to make

    something truly special for Emily, but also needed it to be something I could
    pull off with my limited culinary skills. While roaming the grocery store
    aisles looking for inspiration, I found some frozen butternut squash ravioli
    and decided I could work with that. It even had a recipe on the back of the box
    for a creamy mushroom sauce with walnuts and sundried tomatoes. I returned from
    the store with all the necessary ingredients, along with those for a simple
    side salad.

    For decorations, I scattered hundreds of red, pink, and

    white cut-out hearts randomly throughout the apartment, propping them on
    horizontal surfaces, taping them to the walls, and hanging them on strings from
    the exposed rafters. I used similar cut-out hearts to put under the table
    place-settings and serve as decorative placemats and coasters. As a finishing
    touch, I sprinkled some sparkly heart-shaped confetti around a centerpiece of
    red roses and a half dozen staggered-height candles.

    The sauce was simmering away, and I was just finishing

    assembly of a salad when my phone buzzed with a text alert, "I'm
    here."

    I quickly wiped my hands and typed back, "Side door is

    unlocked. Please lock it and come on up."

    I scurried around the apartment lighting candles and was

    dimming the overhead lights when I heard the delicate clip-clap of heels coming
    up the third-floor stairs. The footsteps crossed the storage area toward the
    front of the building and Emily knocked on the propped-open door while
    announcing her entrance, "Happy Valentine's Day!".

    Her beauty radiated in the dimly lit room and I joyfully

    replied, "Happy Valentine's Day!"

    I watched with rapt attention as she slowly took in the

    hanging forest of paper hearts, illuminated with a combination of candlelight
    and the soft glow of streetlights coming through the large front windows.

    The bottom hemline of a bright red, knee-length skirt drew

    my attention as it billowed from underneath a chic hip-length black pea coat.
    The heavily textured lace skirt contrasted against the smooth lines of her
    black-nylon covered calves and black ankle strap pumps.

    After a few moments, Emily remarked with a wondrous tone,

    "Michael, this is amazing. It's beautiful."

    My social awkwardness momentarily returned with the vision

    of this beautiful woman standing in my apartment, and I cheesily responded,
    "Not as amazing and beautiful as you."

    Emily blushed and presented me a red greeting card envelope,

    which I set down on the counter while offering to take her coat. I stood behind
    her and held the lapels of the coat as she shed it over her shoulders. The coat
    slid downward and revealed a black long-sleeve corded sweater that nicely
    hugged the slender curves of her torso and arms.

    I placed her coat on a hook by the door and said, "Make

    yourself at home. I just need to finish the pasta, so dinner should be ready in
    about 10 minutes."

    I dropped the ravioli in boiling water as Emily slowly

    clip-clapped around the small apartment observing the standard furnishings as
    well as the Valentine's decorations. She would pause occasionally to look at
    something then move on to something else, until she arrived at the front
    windows and looked down to the street below.

    I approached her silhouetted shape from behind and

    commented, "I know the apartment isn't much, but it has a good view."

    She guided my arms to embrace her from behind, then leaned

    backwards into me, "I don't care about the apartment. I just care that you
    are here. But, yes, it is a nice view."

    The loud buzz of the kitchen timer disrupted our moment and

    I excused myself to finish the pasta. I drained the ravioli and tossed it into
    the simmering sauce before plating and garnishing with sprinkles of walnuts,
    sundried tomatoes, and shreds of fresh basil.

    We talked and ate like we had so many times before, but it

    felt so much more intimate being in my apartment. Emily's natural beauty was
    softly highlighted by the flickering candlelight, and she was captivating. I
    was simply absorbed by her presence, enjoying the way she delicately grasped
    the fork between her neatly manicured fingers, the way her expressions radiated
    pure innocent joy when she laughed, and the way she tilted her head to gently
    sweep errant wisps of strawberry-blond hair behind her ear.

    Our bites slowed after a while and we focused more on the

    conversation than eating. Growing uncomfortable in the hard dining chairs, I shifted
    in my seat and suggested, "Let's go sit on the sofa."

    We both stood and I said, "I'll be right there" as

    I snuffed the centerpiece candles and deposited a few dirty dishes in the
    kitchen sink.

    Emily sat on the sofa and smoothed the skirt hem over her

    knees as I grabbed her greeting card off the counter, along with my wrapped
    gift for her. I was taken by the moment as I sat next to her and looked into
    her eyes.

    "I love you Emily."

    Her eyes glistened with moisture as she softly replied,

    "I love you too."

    We looked into each other's eyes for a few short seconds

    before we intuitively closed the distance between us, our lips briefly coming
    together for the first time. The tentative close-lipped meeting was very chaste
    by secular standards, but altogether thrilling for two people who had never
    experienced a romantic kiss.

    We continued gazing into each other's eyes and came together

    again for a second short kiss. I knew we were crossing a fairly mild, yet very
    distinct line within conservative Christian standards for sexual purity, and a
    small internal struggle began developing within me. I used the most obvious
    available distraction and offered Emily the wrapped gift in my hands.

    She carefully unwrapped the flat-shaped box, neatly running

    a finger beneath the tape to not tear the wrapping paper. Once removed, she
    slowly lifted the lid to reveal the wire necklace showcased in a bedding of
    tissue paper.

    "Oh, Michael!" she exclaimed as she swept her

    sweater sleeve up her arm to compare the C-bracelet with the new necklace.

    "It's gorgeous! Help me put it on!"

    Emily turned her back to me and pulled her shoulder-length

    bob away from her neck. I reached to place the necklace around her neck and
    hook the clasp, the back of my fingers gently brushing against her luxuriously
    soft skin. The touch was new and exhilarating, and she made no move to release
    her suspended hair as my fingers smoothed the necklace more than was necessary
    around the nape of her neck.

    Coming to back to reality, I pulled my hands away from her

    neck and Emily dropped her hair back into place as she turned to face me again.

    She looked at me with a depth in her eyes that I had never

    seen before, "I absolutely love it, Michael. Thank you." Then she put
    her hand on my chest and moved the full distance between us to press her lips
    against mine.

    My internal struggle must have been felt through my lips.

    Emily pulled back from the kiss, our faces inches apart, and said, "It's
    Valentine's Day, maybe we can give ourselves a little leniency."

    That's all it took to overcome my weakened will, and I

    tilted my head forward for our lips to meet again. We spent the next hour
    facing each other side-by-side on the sofa, talking occasionally, but mostly
    staring into each other's eyes and softly kissing.

    Failures of Carnality.

    The next week was no different than normal, except that

    Emily wore the new necklace every day, carefully selecting outfits with
    necklines complementary to the loop of woven wire. We went about our normal
    routines and spent time together in public places, simply holding hands or
    quickly joining for an innocent goodbye hug. The kisses we shared on
    Valentine's Day were never mentioned and I assumed we both wanted to repress
    our lapse of judgement.

    Emily texted me the following Thursday afternoon, "Are

    you home tonight? I want to drop something off."

    I replied, "Yes" then had a spur-of-the-moment

    thought and typed, "Want to have dinner here?"

    "Sure!"

    "Any time after 6 is fine."

    "B there at 7."

    "Side door will be unlocked. Lock it when you come

    in."

    "Okay"

    Mr. Jacobs and I closed the store, then did some

    miscellaneous cleanup until about 6:30. He left for home and I headed upstairs
    to figure out what I could make for dinner. It wasn't nearly as sophisticated
    as the butternut squash ravioli, but I managed to cobble together a sautéed
    chicken entree and respectable salad from ingredients already in the
    refrigerator.

    I was just finishing the chicken when Emily knocked on the

    doorframe and hung her winter coat on the hook by the door.

    "Hi Emily. Perfect timing, I was just finishing

    dinner."

    She joined me in the kitchen, wearing designer sneakers,

    ankle-cut blue jeans, and a pink oxford button-down shirt that was opened
    enough to modestly showcase her wire necklace. It was a very casual look for
    her, yet the outfit was still much more deliberate and fashionable than that of
    the typical college student.

    She replied, "Hi Michael" and tugged at my

    shoulder until I bent over for her to kiss my cheek.

    We ate dinner and enjoyed conversation about a variety of

    random topics. After dinner, she gave me a little box of homemade cookies from
    her mother and we sat on the sofa to each have one. I could tell Emily was
    thinking about something as we finished the cookies.

    "What's on your mind?"

    "Being here; and having dinner with you reminds me of Valentine's

    Day."

    She paused briefly before adding, "I liked that night a

    lot" and leaned forward to press her lips against mine.

    Still sitting side-by-side on the sofa, we both turned to

    face each other more directly and came together for another kiss, then another,
    and another. With our legs toward each other, my hands softly caressed her
    jean-covered knees, while hers rested on the top of my forearms and gently
    encouraged my movements. Our lips began loosening, and rather chaste closed-lip
    pecks progressed into more freely affectionate open-mouth kisses.

    We occasionally separated to silently look into each other's

    eyes before coming back together again. Each time, our breathing became
    heavier, the fair skin of Emily's face and neck became more flush, and the
    blood flow to certain parts of my body became more plentiful.

    After a while, Emily's phone chimed with a text message and

    she reached to pull it from her back jeans pocket.

    "Ugh, I'm supposed to study with Jennifer tonight for

    our Child Psychology test. I better get going."

    Emily used outstretched fingers to fluff her hair, then

    rubbed her neck and cheeks as if to redistribute her flushed color.

    "Thank you for dinner; and everything; tonight."

    We shared a few more reserved kisses before I answered,

    "You're welcome" and we said our goodbyes.

    Rationalizations.

    Our relationship held to its normal public decency over the

    next few days, including during church and Sunday afternoon at her parents'
    house. Again, there was no mention of our illicit activity and I once again
    assumed that she wanted to overlook the indiscretion and move on.

    I knew I was wrong when a text message popped up on my phone

    Monday afternoon, "Can I drop off some of my mom's cookies tonight?"

    I answered, "I'll have dinner ready at 7. Lock the door

    on your way in."

    She arrived just a few minutes before 7 o'clock wearing a

    smartly put together jeans and white button-down shirt outfit, of course neatly
    accessorized, as always.

    I did make dinner, but we both knew it was only a weak

    excuse for our consciences to somehow justify being alone together in my
    apartment. We ate and talked at a less leisurely pace than we had on previous
    occasions, and quickly moved to the sofa.

    When we sat facing each other, Emily musically feigned,

    "Umm, I do love your Valentine's Day dinners."

    Our first kiss of the night was a confident and hungry

    joining of our mouths. Those that followed were no less urgent, but were
    hindered by our awkward side-by-side position on the sofa. Frustrated, Emily
    put both her hands on my chest and playfully pushed me backward so I was
    sitting in a slouched position. Her petite body climbed over mine to face me,
    sitting straddled on my left thigh.

    My eyes locked on hers as we both breathed heavily and she

    rationalized, "This might be easier."

    Her loose-fitting button-down shirt gaped open as she leaned

    forward to resume kissing, and my eyes were immediately drawn to the sight of
    her flushed chest and lacy white bra.

    I agreed, "Definitely better" as her arms wrapped

    around my neck and we playfully rubbed noses before joining our mouths again.
    My arms embraced her tiny body and held her close as we kissed, occasionally
    swapping the interlock of our faces from one side to the other.

    The new level of passion was having an effect, and my

    growing member was painfully pinched in my jeans. I removed a hand from her
    back and tried to subtly pull on the crotch of my jeans to gain some
    much-needed space. Unsuccessful with the subtle approach, I began tugging
    harder and drew Emily's attention.

    She pulled away from our kissing and asked in a genuinely

    concerned voice, "Am I hurting you?"

    Somewhat embarrassed, I replied, "No; no. I just need

    to adjust how I'm sitting a little."

    Emily sat up and curiously looked down as I pulled on my

    jeans and coaxed the underlying bulge to one side.

    Now fully understanding what I meant, she let out an

    enlightened "Oh;” before replacing her arms around my neck and
    resuming our kisses.

    My hands caressed her back and lightly traced the graceful

    shape of her petite shirt-covered body, my fingers' smooth motions only
    interrupted as they traversed the unnatural feel of bra straps.

    Still straddling my leg, Emily's hips began making

    ever-so-subtle motions as we kissed. My hands couldn't sense the movement as I
    caressed her back, but I could faintly feel the repeated shifting of her weight
    on my thigh.

    I was emboldened by the sensation, and mischievously flicked

    the tip of my tongue against her upper lip as we kissed. She responded in-kind
    and our tongues were soon dancing in and out of each other's mouths, our faces
    pressing harder together in a desperate attempt for deeper and deeper kisses.

    As our shared arousal built to a new high, we were once

    again startled from our rocketing passion by a chiming cell phone. This time it
    was mine, which was sitting on the arm of the sofa. I didn't intend to answer
    it, but we both subconsciously realized the interruption was probably for the
    best.

    Emily rolled off me to sit on the sofa and said, "Go

    ahead. It might be important."

    I held up the phone for her to see that Mr. Jacobs showed on

    the caller ID, then hit the speakerphone button.

    "Hi Mr. Jacobs."

    "Hi Mike. Sorry to bother you. I was just realizing

    that I don't think we locked the side door tonight. Could you please check
    it?"

    I think Emily and I both twinged a little, knowing I left it

    unlocked to facilitate our sin. I simply answered, "I know it's locked. No
    worries."

    To be continued in part 3. Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts, for Literotica.

    45 min
  • Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 1
    Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 1
    Two young Christians exploring love and passion.

    Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.



    I sit naked in an overstuffed leather armchair absorbing my

    surreal surroundings.

    The remnant scents of crushed rose petals and last night's

    love making fill my nostrils while the gentle glow of dawn filters through
    leaded glass windows and sheer drapery. Gold-leaf picture frames and an antique
    clock face give off a slight radiance that contrast against the historic
    mansion's otherwise dark furnishings and wood paneling. Of everything in the
    room, the object most strikingly highlighted by the soft illumination is
    Emily's smooth alabaster leg extending from underneath the king size bed's dark
    duvet cover. The room is silent except for faint, deep breaths of slumber
    emanating from beneath the duvet.

    While my senses are filled by the early morning experience,

    treasured memories of the journey to this moment float through my head.

    My childhood.

    God has been good to me. I was raised in a very loving home

    by two wonderful parents, both faithful Believers who raised their two sons to
    be Godly young men. My mom worked as an elementary schoolteacher but spent most
    of her free time spearheading our church's county-wide food pantry ministry.
    Dad was a jack-of-all-trades who probably had 20 different jobs over his
    working career, not because he wasn't good at the jobs, but because he was a
    very inquisitive person and became quickly bored with each pursuit. We weren't
    monetarily wealthy by any definition, but we were a solid working-class family
    and our basic day-to-day needs were met.

    There were a few local main street businesses that were the

    economic and social hubs for our small Midwest farming community. Linda's Diner
    was the only restaurant in our one-flashing-light town, and was where the
    retired crowd started their morning with coffee and gossip. Following
    breakfast, the older men moved to the John Deere dealership where they spent the
    morning drinking more coffee and lamenting that "they don't make tractors
    like they used to." Meanwhile, the older women went to Clancy Drugs, which
    was actually more of a "five and dime" store that had a small
    pharmacy. The owner, Oscar Clancy, had set up an area with armchairs, a couple
    sofas, and a coffee table where the women would knit and crotchet while they
    gossiped.

    Two other local landmarks were the towering white steeple of

    the First Congregational Church, and the two-story brick Burkee Hardware
    building, owned by John and Bonnie Burkee. Both were welcome visual contrasts
    to flat horizons filled with endless cornfields, and both had transformational
    roles in my life.

    The Burkee's attended First Congregational Church, as did

    nearly everyone in town, and were long-time friends with my parents. Mrs.
    Burkee often helped my mom with the church food pantry and my dad was a
    frequently found at the hardware store 'shooting-the-breeze' with Mr. Burkee.
    Nearly every Friday night, the two couples could be found playing Euchre at
    their house or ours.

    Mr. Burkee knew money was always tight for my parents and,

    when I was a Freshman in high school, suggested I help out at the hardware
    store on Saturdays. I readily accepted and he put me to work with basic tasks like
    loading customers' cars, sweeping floors, and taking out trash. Since I was
    only 14 at the time, Mrs. Burkee would pay me in cash at the end of each
    Saturday and usually send me home with a plate of cookies or some other treat
    for my family. As a couple without children of their own, I felt a bit like the
    son they never had.

    The hardware store was a natural fit for me. My family

    didn't have money to buy new things or hire repair technicians when something
    broke, so dad always fixed everything himself. He had a mechanical mind and was
    innovative with cost efficient solutions and repairs. I was always eager to
    watch him as a young child, and to participate in the repairs as I grew older.
    As grew into a young adult, my mind began to work like his, inquisitive and
    mechanical, and that translated into a lot of practical knowledge that was
    helpful at the hardware store.

    After a few months, Mr. Burkee asked if I would want to help

    stock shelves on weekdays after school. He gave a stern warning that I needed
    to keep my schoolwork and grades in order. School was to be my number one
    priority and if I didn't abide by that, working afternoons at the hardware
    store would end. He had no reason to worry and I eagerly accepted his offer.
    School came easy to me and I carried straight A's without much effort.

    What didn't come easy to me was social ease. I was a very

    introverted person and found social interactions awkward at best. I had a
    couple good buddies and did marginally well holding conversations with adults,
    but would stumble epically when even saying "hi" to a teenage girl.

    When I turned 16, Mr. and Mrs. Burkee promoted me to be a

    legitimate, on-the-books employee at Burkee Hardware and had me start
    interacting more with customers. I helped them find items in the store,
    answered general questions, and sometimes helped brainstorm on their projects.
    Mrs. Burkee taught me how to use the cash register and record store credit
    purchases for customers that were billed monthly.

    I didn't recognize it until years later, but the trust Mr.

    and Mrs. Burkee gave me in those early years allowed me to find trust in
    myself. I was confident in my knowledge and that gave me courage in my
    interactions with customers. That also spread to other aspects of my life and I
    found it easier to have more meaningful conversations with friends or adults at
    church.

    Girls were still a different story. I had zero confidence in

    that area and remained painfully awkward to the point of social paralysis. It
    was as if I was on the outside of a glass bubble looking into the real world.
    There were a few girls at school and at church that I found attractive and
    interesting, but I lacked the ability to break through that glass wall.

    Accepting failure in that part of my life, I poured my

    energies into school, church activities, and the hardware store. I became more
    involved at church where I took on a bigger role in helping my mom with the
    food pantry, joined a Wednesday evening Bible Study group, and grew much deeper
    in my personal relationship with God. Those things certainly didn't solve my
    awkwardness with girls, but they at least kept my mind from constantly dwelling
    on the subject.

    Becoming a Man.

    By the time my Senior year arrived, I was a well engrained

    fixture at church and the hardware store. The Burkee's trusted me implicitly
    and often left me to run the store or lock up at night when they had other
    commitments. Over the Christmas and New Year's holidays, they even took their
    first vacation in 20-years, a 10-day Caribbean cruise, and left me to manage
    the store.

    During that year, I began to think about life after high

    school. The hardware store was very comfortable for me and I loved every minute
    of it, but I also knew it would be difficult to support myself, and hopefully a
    future family, on a store clerk's wages.

    My mechanical mind dreamed of an engineering degree and a

    career designing complex industrial innovations. The spiritual side of me
    dreamed of a life in ministry leading people to Jesus, though that wasn't
    exactly a high-paying appointment either. The problem with both options was
    money.

    My parents had managed to squirrel away a very small college

    fund over the years but, in reality, the vast majority of college expenses
    would need to be covered by scholarships and loans. Understanding the potential
    magnitude of college debt made a non-degreed life at the hardware store look
    more and more attractive.

    Mrs. Burkee had taken a keen interest in what I intended to

    do after graduation and there were occasional slow evenings at the hardware
    store when she would sit and listen to all the conflicting thoughts rattling
    around in my head. Every time she would give the same advice, to keep my
    options open, pursue all opportunities until a decision became clear, and keep
    praying for God's guidance.

    I took her advice to heart and explored various community

    colleges and universities, both those with engineering programs and those with
    ministry fields. I found a few Christian colleges that had well regarded
    engineering programs, which would give me the perfect opportunity to pursue
    both of my dreams simultaneously. However, the schools were private and their
    tuitions rates were astronomical.

    My "top-pick" school, Powell College, was located

    in a small town of the same name and was especially pricey. Mrs. Burkee
    continued her previous advice and insisted I apply to as many schools as
    possible to keep my options open. She backed up her determination by insisting
    that she and Mr. Burkee pay for all the application fees. How could I argue
    with that?

    Meanwhile, graduation was a couple months away and the

    entire town was abuzz about the upcoming Senior Prom. I had never attended a
    school dance and had no intention of attending Senior Prom.

    My mom disagreed, arguing it was a rite-of-passage and that

    I would regret it for the rest of my life. She wouldn't accept no for answer
    and said she would make arrangements for me to take her coworker's daughter,
    Bridget, to Prom. I continued protesting and told her that I could find my own
    date, but I didn't want to go to any high school dance, Prom or otherwise.
    However, mom was relentless and I eventually resigned myself to the fact I
    wasn't going to win the argument.

    My statement about finding my own date was a partial truth.

    Thanks to family genes, I was a fairly good-looking guy and occasionally drew
    the interest of girls around my age. Moving and lifting of heavy items at the
    hardware store had slowly evolved my body from that of a scrawny child into a
    muscular, well-defined 6'-3" young man with softly chiseled facial
    features. Unfortunately, any female attention I received because of my physical
    appearance was quickly repelled by my awkward and unconfident nature.

    Prom was an absolute disaster. Set-up dates are awkward

    under any circumstances, but Bridget was very shy and just as socially backward
    as me. We were simply a bad combination and spent the first part of the night
    standing off to the side of the dance floor fidgeting nervously and trying not
    to make eye contact with each other. Eventually, I worked up the courage to ask
    her to dance when the band began playing a slow ballad. She reluctantly
    accepted.

    We slowly shuffled around in circles, clumsily looking for

    appropriate hand placements and keeping plenty of distance between our bodies.
    Thankfully, our respective friends rescued us shortly after the song ended and
    we amicably parted ways.

    Recruited.

    Envelopes with college and university logos began appearing

    in the family mailbox about a month before graduation. I had a perfect GPA, so
    it wasn't a surprise that they were all letters of acceptance. However, what I
    didn't expect was that most of them also included offers of significant
    scholarships and financial aid. I was ecstatic to learn Powell College offered
    an 80% no-repayment scholarship, which made my "top-pick" school a realistic
    possibility. I excitedly told my parents then immediately raced over to the
    hardware store to tell Mrs. Burkee.

    A few days later, I closed the hardware store and went home

    to find the Burkee's and my parents playing their regular Friday night Euchre
    game at the kitchen table. They all greeted me as I walked in the house and,
    with a strange look on his face, my dad said somewhat ominously, "Sit down
    son, Mr. & Mrs. Burkee would like to talk to you about something."

    I nervously pulled up a chair and waited patiently while

    they finished the last couple tricks of the hand. Mom updated the score and dad
    started reshuffling the cards while Mr. Burkee spoke.

    "Mike, you did a great job managing the store while we

    were on the cruise last winter and, well, we really enjoyed the time away. I
    have a proposition for you."

    I listened intently as he continued, "We would like to

    go on an extended vacation this summer. Go out west to the Grand Canyon,
    Yellowstone, Mt. Rushmore; maybe even try our luck in Vegas. We haven't planned
    it out yet so we're not sure how long we'll be gone, but I'm guessing 3 or 4
    weeks for a road trip like that. So; We would like you to manage the store
    while we're away."

    I was more than happy to do so and started to respond, but

    Mrs. Burkee cut me off before I got any words out, "However, you won't
    receive your normal hourly wage while we're gone;”

    I looked at her quizzically and waited for her to continue

    after a faux dramatic pause, "Instead, John and I will pay the 20% of
    Powell's tuition that the scholarship doesn't cover, and also help you out with
    books and course fees."

    I was quickly doing calculations in my head. Their proposal

    was easily worth 4 times what I would earn at my normal gross hourly rate, not
    even considering taxes. I sat speechless with a stunned look on my face. Here
    was the answer to my prayers. God had provided.

    Mrs. Burkee excitedly continued, "I know you really

    want to go to Powell. You're an amazing young man and we want you to follow
    your dreams."

    Mr. Burkee echoed her thoughts and added, "You've

    worked your tail off for 4 years, more so than we could ask of any employee.
    This isn't a gift. You've earned it."

    I looked over at my parents. My mom was beaming and my dad

    had a 'gotcha' look on his face. Apparently, he thought it was funny to bait me
    at the beginning of the conversation.

    I slowly responded, "I; I don't know what to say.

    That's very generous."

    I think Mrs. Burkee was even more excited than me and

    blurted out, "Just say yes!" So, I did.

    Cap & Gown.

    High school graduation and the following summer went by in a

    blur. Amid preparing to move away to Powell, I also managed to keep attending
    my weekly Bible study and maintain status quo at the hardware store while Mr.
    & Mrs. Burkee were on vacation. Before I knew it, I was loading up my car
    and saying heartfelt goodbyes to all my friends and family, and especially to
    the Burkee's for all they had done over the past years.

    After arriving at Powell, I quickly settled into my dorm

    room on the first day, then spent the second day on campus searching for a job.
    Despite my tuition being 100% covered, I still needed to pay for room &
    board and needed some spending money.

    Naturally, my first stop was the local downtown hardware

    store where I spoke briefly with the owner, a stern-looking man in his late
    50s, Mr. Jacobs. He looked at me skeptically and gruffly asked if I had any
    experience. I modestly told him that I worked at the hardware store in my
    hometown. He asked for a contact person, which I gave, and he said he would get
    back to me.

    I spent the rest of the day applying for jobs anywhere that

    had a posting, though I needn't have. Mr. Jacobs called me first thing the next
    morning to say he talked to Mr. Burkee, and I was hired.

    Higher Ed.

    I settled into a routine of classes and work over the next

    few weeks. My inquisitive mind yearned for new knowledge from both sources and
    I soaked it up like a sponge. The coursework was more challenging and took more
    effort than in high school, but was still manageable and left adequate time for
    about 20 hours a week at the hardware store.

    Between the hardware store paycheck, some help from my

    parents, and a moderate size student loan, I would be able to cover the cost of
    room & board and my general living expenses. Once again, God provided.

    During those first few weeks, I also began attending Faith

    Bible Church, which was located a couple blocks from the hardware store. It was
    a typical church in many ways, but also had a large college-age ministry given
    its proximity to Powell's campus. They had a worship service on Sunday morning
    and a variety of study and support groups throughout the week, including a
    'young adult' (a.k.a. college student) study group on Wednesday evenings that
    they called Next Gen, just NG for short.

    Due to my schedule at the hardware store, it was a few weeks

    into school before I could attend my first Wednesday NG study. I followed signs
    through the church building into a large lounge area furnished like an
    oversized but cozy living room, complete with an artificial electric fireplace.
    I would guess there were about 40-50 students socializing in informal clusters
    around the room. I recognized a couple students from my engineering classes and
    decided they would be my safest point of entry into this new group.

    My eyes casually scanned the room looking for other familiar

    faces as I purposefully walked toward my engineering classmates, that is until
    I plowed into someone. My hands instinctively reached out to steady whoever I
    just clobbered and grasped the shoulders of an extremely petite girl. I looked
    down to see a bob of strawberry-blond hair face-planted into the lower portion
    of my chest.

    Socially horrified, I quickly stepped backward and squeaked

    out a timid, "Sorry. Are you ok?"

    The girl's head tilted upward to reveal pure beauty with

    amazing blue eyes and a welcoming smile. Ignoring my question and the clumsy
    circumstance, she cheerily thrust her hand out to shake mine, "I'm Emily!
    Emily Fulton. I haven't seen you here before so I was just coming to say
    hello."

    A pang of nervousness clenched my stomach as her delicate

    hand came to rest in my big mitt "Hi, I'm Michael; er; Mike."

    "Nice to meet you Michael," she said

    emphasizing my formal name, then warmly continued, "I saw you at worship
    service the last couple Sundays, but you left before I could catch you."

    I stood with Emily's soft hand in mine, frozen in an awkward

    conversational pause and unable to formulate an intelligent response.

    Again, she ignored my ineptness and continued, "I'm

    glad you came to NG tonight! I'm a Freshman at Powell, but I grew up in this
    church and already know most of the students here. Let me introduce you to some
    people."

    Her hand slipped from our handshake as she turned and began

    walking toward a group on the far side of the room. I followed behind,
    curiously observing Emily's petite form as her short legs took 2 energetic
    steps for every one of my lazy strides.

    While small, her 4'-11" body was perfectly

    proportioned, and her tastefully conservative attire gave an impression of
    style and elegance not exhibited by other students in the room. Tasteful white
    shorts highlighted subtly athletic legs and graceful hips, while a tailored
    pastel-blue sleeveless blouse accentuated her narrow waist and modest chest.

    Emily proceeded to introduce me to nearly everyone in the

    room before the study began, skillfully prompting conversation and filling
    awkward pauses in a way that made me feel at ease. That continued into the
    Bible study as we sat in adjacent armchairs and she effortlessly integrated me
    into the group discussions.

    As the study ended and people began to informally mingle

    again, Emily turned toward me in her chair with a genuine smile, "I'm
    really glad you came tonight. Will I see you Sunday morning?"

    The inquiry was rote social courtesy for most people, but

    Emily's smile and voice radiated true sincerity that meant much more than the
    face value of the words. The genuine kindness caught me a bit off guard and I
    stumbled a response, "Ye; yes, I'll be here Sunday."

    She enthusiastically replied, "Great! I'll see you

    then!" and moved to join a group of her friends across the room.

    School  Work.

    Over the following weeks, I fell into a routine and became

    integrated into life at Powell, Faith Bible, and Jacobs Hardware. Classes were
    going well, and the hardware store atmosphere felt like a reunion with an old
    friend. Whatever tensions I had melted away when I entered through the old,
    creaky screen door on Main Street.

    At church, I began to build friendships with a few of the

    guys in NG and, on more Sundays and Wednesdays than not, Emily would initiate a
    few minutes of friendly conversation with me. Over the course of those brief
    chats, I learned she was an Early Childhood Education major, her dad was a
    tenured seminary professor at Powell, she was a cheerleader and president of
    the quiz bowl team in high school, and; she always dressed impeccably. In turn,
    I told her about my engineering major and a little about my family background,
    including how the Burkee's made attending Powell a reality for me.

    Emily made conversation easy. She looked beyond my nervous

    shortcomings and was genuinely interested in me as a person. It was obvious
    that she authentically cared for people around her, friends and strangers
    alike, and not in a fake or flirty way like some girls. Her infectious,
    cheerful personality brought out the best in people and brightened the day of
    anyone she encountered.

    As the school year progressed, Emily's pure personality and

    intentions put me at ease and my social awkwardness faded away when in her
    presence. I felt comfortable; I felt good when I was with her.

    Still a part of the town.

    Freshman year flew by and, in a few weeks, I would return

    home to work at Burkee Hardware for the summer. Mr. Burkee had generously
    offered to continue our tuition arrangement if I would manage the store for the
    month of July. Last summer, he and Mrs. Burkee had really enjoyed the extended
    western road trip and, this summer, they were planning to park their beach
    chairs in Key West for a month.

    That Thursday evening in Powell, I swept floors at Jacobs

    Hardware while Mr. Jacobs worked on fixing a problematic cash register drawer
    that had started sticking recently. It was common for us to chat about random
    meaningless topics in the evenings, but tonight Mr. Jacobs had other things on
    his mind, "What are your plans for the summer, Mike?"

    I didn't understand his covert probing and innocuously

    answered, "Nothing big. Just going home and working at the hardware
    store."

    "Well, I was hoping I could convince you to stay in

    town and work here. The customers like you and I could really use some
    full-time help for the summer."

    Thinking there was a miscommunication, I apologized,

    "I'm sorry. I thought you knew I was going home for the summer."

    "I did. I was just hoping to change your mind. I could

    really use you."

    I thought for a moment, sighed, and decided it best to tell

    him the bigger story, "I'm sorry Mr. Jacobs. I feel like I'm letting you
    down, but I really need to go home for the summer. It's the only way I can
    afford to come back to school here next year."

    He looked at me quizzically and jokingly said, "You

    know I'll pay you, right?"

    I chuckled then more seriously continued, "Yes, but

    there's more to it. My family isn't wealthy like most of the students here and,
    quite honestly, it's only because of God's providence that I was able attend
    Powell this year." I went on to explain what the Burkee's had done for me,
    and what they were offering to do for me again next year.

    When I finished talking, Mr. Jacobs compassionately said,

    "I understand, but I hope you'll come back to work next school year."

    "Of course, I will."

    I could tell he was still mentally processing things while I

    continued sweeping floors, progressing my way to the back portion of the store.
    After about 10 minutes, Mr. Jacobs approached me and somewhat hesitantly asked,
    "So the Burkee's are paying your tuition?"

    "Yes. Well; a portion of it. They're paying for what

    isn't covered by scholarships."

    "And, you're paying for room & board and living

    expenses?"

    "I'm paying what I can, then I'm taking out student

    loans for the rest."

    Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Mr. Jacobs said

    goodnight then left me to finish sweeping and lock up for the night.

    Shopkeeping.

    The following Tuesday evening, Mr. Jacobs and I tidied the

    store at the end of the day while making superficial conversation about the
    welcome spring weather. As we finished our evening routines, Mr. Jacobs
    insisted, "Come with me. I want to show you something."

    I followed him up the stairs to the store's second floor of

    merchandise, then through shelving aisles to the locked third-floor stairway.
    He fished a key out of his pocket, opened the door, and we proceeded up the
    creaky stairs.

    The top floor of the building was a dusty, neglected space

    haphazardly strewn with old shelving units, ancient product displays, and other
    long forgotten things. I had been up there a few times to retrieve items at Mr.
    Jacobs' request, and was sincerely hoping he didn't have aspirations of me
    organizing the mess before I left for the summer.

    Once at the top of the stairs, we carefully followed narrow

    foot trails toward the front of the building. We high-stepped through the
    clutter and Mr. Jacobs explained, "The store has been in my family for 3
    generations so there is a lot of history laying around here. My wife used to
    keep it all organized but, honestly, that hasn't been on the top of my priority
    list since she passed away."

    He rarely talked about his family, but I had stitched

    together enough bits and pieces to know his wife died of cancer about 10 years
    ago and that he had an adult daughter serving as a long-term missionary
    somewhere in southeast Asia.

    We approached a wall with a locked door that divided the

    rear storage space from the front portion of the building. Mr. Jacobs unlocked
    the door and gestured me through the doorway.

    He joined me and looked nostalgically around the room before

    speaking, "My parents let me build this little apartment when I was your
    age. I didn't go to college and couldn't afford to live on my own, but didn't
    want to be a grown adult living with my parents. Eventually, I married my wife
    and we lived in this little place for a couple years until we bought our
    house."

    I looked around the small studio style apartment as he

    spoke. There was an open kitchen along the back wall where we entered, an
    enclosed bathroom to one side, then an open living and bedroom space
    overlooking Main Street through tall seeded-glass windows. Exposed wood
    rafters, hardwood floors and brick walls gave the space a warm and cozy feel
    despite all the furnishings being covered with dust-layered plastic sheets.

    He swiped his hand across the kitchen island creating a

    cloud of dust, "We spruced it up for my daughter to use while she went to
    Powell, but she's been gone for about 8 years now."

    We stood in silence for a brief moment before he sighed

    loudly and continued, "You're a good kid, Mike. I knew that already, but
    the fact that John Burkee trusts you to run his store for a month reinforces it
    that much more."

    He looked me in the eyes as he continued, "There's no

    good reason for you to take out student loans for housing when this place is
    sitting empty. I'd like you to live here when you come back to school next
    fall."

    He paused for a couple seconds then said in an attempt to

    not appear soft, "That way YOU can keep an eye on that
    temperamental boiler, and I don't have to come into a cold store in the morning;
    Oh, and you'll need to organize the storage area so you can get in here without
    killing yourself."

    I think I began to tear up a little and said, "Wow, I

    don't know what to say Mr. Jacobs."

    "Don't get all sappy on me. Just say 'yes' you

    idiot." And that was that. God was good and had provided once again.

    The wealthy folks.

    Summer went by in a flash and I enjoyed every minute of it.

    It was great to see all my hometown friends and old customers from the hardware
    store. My parents were thrilled to have me back in the house and, oddly, I felt
    glad to be home. While I enjoyed the personal growth that came with going away
    to school, it was nice to be somewhere familiar and comfortable.

    The Burkee's returned from their Key West beach-therapy with

    dark tans and not a care in the world. In conversations over the summer, I
    sensed our relationship was slowly evolving from a pseudo-parent/child
    connection to more of a friendship among adults. While not firmly committing to
    anything, they hinted that they would like our vacation-tuition arrangement to
    continue for the rest of my college career.

    Sophomore days.

    I returned to Powell on Monday, a week before classes

    started, so I could get the hardware store apartment in livable condition. I
    greeted Mr. Jacobs and thanked him profusely for letting me use the apartment.
    He brushed off my gratefulness and jokingly said, "That's ok. I'm getting
    a night watchman and a clean third-floor out of the deal."

    I spent the first day clearing a widened path through the

    storage room, then prioritized cleaning the apartment. I figured I could more
    thoroughly clean and organize the storage room after I had a suitable place to
    sleep and eat.

    The apartment was fully furnished with a single bed, sofa,

    television, small dining table set, appliances, dishes, and other misc.
    accessories. All were decidedly 'vintage' but were in good condition and
    functional. Plastic sheeting had protected the furnishings very well from years
    of accumulated dust, but I would need to do some serious floor and wall
    cleaning the next day. At least I had gotten far enough to be able to crash on
    the sofa that night.

    The next couple days were spent more thoroughly cleaning the

    apartment and contents, and included a shopping excursion to stock the kitchen
    cabinets and fridge. When he could spare time, Mr. Jacobs started sorting
    through some of the storage room clutter while I cleaned, occasionally
    reminiscing and telling stories about various items he found along the way.

    With the apartment itself in pretty good shape, the rest of

    the week was spent in the storage area. Mr. Jacobs had used color-coded sticky
    notes as he sorted through things. Red for trash, yellow for donate, and green
    for keep. It took two full days of constant trips up and down the stairs to
    remove all the trash and donation items. Mr. Jacobs laughed at my obvious
    exhaustion and said, "I think I got the better end of the deal! Free rent
    isn't so free, is it Mike!?!"

    By Friday evening, the hardest portion of the work was

    finished, and I could focus on organizing the remaining green-tagged items. I
    assembled a dozen old metal shelving units that were being stored in pieces and
    used them to arrange miscellaneous small things, removing collected dust as I
    handled each piece.

    Large antique and vintage product displays were gathered

    according to subject matter and placed in groupings along the building's blank
    sidewall. Finally, boxes were labelled and stacked in organized rows running
    the length of the storage room. Most everything was in its place by Saturday
    night. I could deal with the few remaining odds and ends after school started.

    Church folks.

    The next morning, I went to Faith Bible's morning worship

    service where it was great to reconnect with the NG guys I had grown close to
    Freshman year. We caught up on everyone's summer adventures, laughing and
    enjoying each other's company again.

    We spent some more time talking after the service ended at

    12:30, but quickly grew hungry and guys began leaving in search of food. It was
    then that I saw Emily approaching from across the room. As always, her face
    radiating beauty without the artificial assistance of makeup.

    She wore a modest sleeveless white summer dress adorned with

    a fashionable navy-blue floral print. Its conservative A-line profile ended a
    few inches below her knees and, in combination with strappy white heels, very
    attractively highlighted her toned calves and delicate ankles. In contrast, the
    waistline and bodice of the dress were neatly fitted to her body contours and
    accentuated her petite hourglass figure. She looked amazing.

    Emily's strawberry-blond hair fluttered in the breeze as she

    approached me, and her bright blue eyes connected with mine. Happy to see her,
    I smiled broadly and unsurely extended my hand to greet her. True to her warm
    and caring personality, she pushed my hand aside in favor of a brief hug
    between friends. Due to our height difference, her arms snaked around my waist
    and she momentarily pressed her head against my lower chest. Uncomfortable with
    this new experience and not wanting to cross any inappropriate boundaries, I
    awkwardly patted her shoulders until she released her short embrace and
    excitedly announced, "It's so great to see you Michael!"

    "It's good to see you too Emily. How was your mission

    trip?"

    Emily had spent the summer teaching at a missionary school

    in Haiti and spent a few minutes telling me highlights before she asked,
    "How was your summer?"

    I sheepishly told her about the hardware store and

    reconnecting with old friends. It all seemed so mundane and meaningless
    compared to serving poverty-stricken children in a natural disaster ravaged
    country. If Emily felt the same, it certainly wasn't evident. She seemed truly
    interested and asked a few questions that were more about me as a person, than
    the facts of the summer. Her ability to genuinely connect with people was real
    gift.

    A great apartment.

    My Sophomore year went much the same as my Freshman year.

    Classes went well and I regularly attended Faith Bible's Sunday worship and NG
    study. I became very close with the group of guys and we regularly hung out
    whenever our schedules aligned. Likewise, Emily and I continued our pattern of
    short, friendly conversations whenever we saw each other at church events.

    The apartment at the hardware store was great. The solitude

    of living by myself away from the dorm suited my personality and had the side
    benefit of me being more available to Mr. Jacobs. Occasionally he would call me
    down outside of my scheduled working hours when he was in a pinch. I didn't
    mind at all and, when I didn't have other obligations, I would frequently
    wander downstairs anyway to help customers or just to chat.

    The following summer, I returned home to continue my

    tuition-vacation agreement with the Burkee's while most of my friends from
    school dispersed to missionary callings around the globe.

    New Emotions.

    After another successful summer at Burkee Hardware, I

    somewhat reluctantly said my goodbyes and returned to Powell for my Junior
    year. It was comfortable at Burkee's and I had grown to consider many of the
    regular customers as good friends. I couldn't fully understand my emotions, but
    I knew it just felt right to be rooted there.

    I arrived back in Powell a week before fall-term classes

    started. Mr. Jacobs was happy to see me and was eager to share some new ideas
    he had over the summer. We spent several days doing a deep cleaning of the
    store and switching seasonal retail displays to feature fall items.

    He keenly observed that all things antique and vintage were

    coming back into vogue, so we pulled some of the old merchandising items out of
    third-floor storage and gave the storefront display windows a more vintage
    look. I had to admit, the new display was very befitting for the 100-year-old
    building's historic character.

    While we worked together, Mr. Jacobs asked my opinion on

    some of the new home and farm technology he had been reading about in trade
    magazines. I gave my honest opinion that it would be good to stock minimal
    numbers of basic home connectivity items that might appeal to more technology
    savvy Powell College faculty and staff. However, Powell was a small rural town
    and most of the store's customers were slow to adopt new technology. It
    probably wasn't a good business decision to load up on a lot of expensive
    inventory that would become quickly outdated with the next Silicon Valley
    innovation. Mr. Jacobs smiled and agreed.

    It felt good to be back in the store with Mr. Jacobs. He had

    become more of a friend than a boss over the last couple years, and our conversations
    flowed easily regardless of topic. My feelings at Jacobs Hardware were very
    similar to those I had at Burkee's. It just felt right.

    Great Aspirations.

    I woke up Sunday morning eager to reconnect with friends at

    Faith Bible. The first Sunday before classes started was a homecoming of sorts,
    and the church had planned a special fellowship meal for returning Powell
    students.

    Upon arrival, I joyfully greeted a group of friends and

    joined in the mingling before the service began. My excitement eroded to
    dejection as I stood listening to missionary stories brought back from far
    corners of the globe. They were exciting and inspirational experiences but, to
    me, they were a reminder of my comparatively dull and inconsequential summer. I
    had aspirations of leading people to faith and making an eternal difference in
    the world; not being trapped in a hardware store by my financial circumstances.

    I went through the motions of worship that morning, but

    praise and thankfulness were the furthest things from my mind. Mostly I sat
    there feeling sorry for myself. Unlike most of my classmates, I didn't come
    from a family that could pay for my education, let alone fund far-flung summer
    missionary adventures. I lost interest in the fellowship meal, both the food
    and impending summer mission stories, and quietly slipped out the door after
    worship service ended.

    I needed a distraction and decided to tackle the most

    annoyingly tedious of all hardware store tasks; sorting through the bulk
    hardware bins. In search of the correct item, customers always seem to put
    wrong size bolts, nuts, washers, screws, etcetera in the wrong bins, which
    makes the process that much more frustrating for the next customer. The bins
    were a complete mess and I assumed they probably hadn't been sorted for at least
    a couple months.

    Customer traffic was very light and by mid-afternoon I had

    made my way through about half of the bins. I sat on an overturned bucket while
    my fingers lazily raked through a bin of supposedly 3/8-inch hex nuts, picking
    out erroneous sizes.

    My head craned to see around the cabinet of bins when I

    heard the front screen door open and close, followed by footsteps lightly
    creaking across the old hardwood floors. Racks and displays obscured my view of
    the person's upper body, but petite calves and stylish ankle strap heels easily
    identified the woman as Emily.

    My sullen words were just loud enough to be heard over the

    click-clack of her heels, "Hi Emily. I'm over here."

    She rounded the corner and stood at the end of the bin

    cabinet, "I didn't see you at the fellowship dinner and didn't get a
    chance to say hello. Did you have to work?"

    My eyes and fingers were still searching for mis-categorized

    nuts as I did my best to put on an upbeat facade, "Not really, I just
    wasn't hungry so I figured I would come back and get started on this."

    I should have known that Emily's caring personality wouldn't

    accept that kind of whitewashed answer. She positioned an overturned bucket
    about an arms-length away from me, then sat down and modestly adjusted the skirt
    hem over her crossed legs.

    Sufficiently settled on the bucket, her eyes gazed at me

    inquisitively, "What's going on Michael?"

    I sat for a moment contemplating that Emily isn't the type

    of person to accept anything but the honest truth. Having resigned myself to
    that fact, I sighed and softly said, "I know it's selfish, but I couldn't
    listen to any more mission trip stories. I want to be out there reaching the
    world, but I was stuck in a one-horse-town hardware store all summer."

    Emily's response would have come across as patronizing if

    spoken by anyone else, but I knew her heart was pure and words sincere.
    "That one-horse-town needs to hear the Gospel too. You grew up there. You
    know those people better than anyone, and they know you. I can't think of anyone
    better equipped to minister to them."

    "I appreciate what you're trying to say, but it's not

    the same. It's the heartland of Christian America, not gospel-starved
    desert."

    Her inquisitive gaze turned to one of determination,

    "You're right, Michael. It's not the same. A lot of people paint overseas
    mission work as a glamourous job with a continuous harvest of saved souls. Well;
    it's NOT; at least not in my experience."

    "There are so many barriers to effective ministry.

    Language, customs, political strife, instability of the mission organization; not
    to mention that most of the target population is more worried about surviving
    the day than they are about eternal salvation."

    She continued, "The place I served in Haiti is a

    constantly revolving door of short-stint teachers and severely destitute kids.
    I knew the kids' names and showed them love while we were together, but I had
    no idea if they would be back the next week, or even the next day. There were
    only a couple kids that stayed in school for more than a couple weeks at a
    time. If they returned later, it would usually be to a different teacher that
    they didn't know; it's hard for them to understand a loving God in a world of
    constant chaos and strife. Don't get me wrong, it's important work and there
    are success stories, but it's not ideal."

    I continued sifting through the bin of nuts and asked,

    "Why did you go back to Haiti this summer? You must have felt like it was
    important since you chose to go back."

    Emily's tone turned softer, "I don't really know why I

    went back again. I guess it's what my parents and friends expected me to
    do."

    "Are you going back next summer?"

    "I don't know," she said quietly then paused for a

    moment, "I don't know."

    We sat in introspective silence for a couple minutes before

    Emily said, "You know, most of the success stories I saw in Haiti weren't
    because of outside missionaries, they happened because of locals ministering to
    locals."

    I nodded my head to let her know I was listening.

    "You know the people at the hardware store; you know

    the road their life has taken; and you have the chance to build a deeper
    relationship with them every day, talking about things that matter to them. And
    when the time is right, that foundation of trust will give you the chance to
    share Christ and meet them at the point of their need."

    "Michael, I think you have an opportunity that a lot of

    overseas missionaries dream about."

    Her words had the remarkable duality of a compassionate

    reprimand and powerful encouragement, delivered in a way that only Emily could.
    I knew she was right. A stabbing pang of remorse shot through my stomach as I
    thought about not making the most of opportunities I had over the last two
    summers.

    I looked into her kind blue eyes for the first time during

    that conversation and very sincerely told her, "Thank you, Emily. I needed
    to hear that. You're an amazing friend."

    We both stood and shared a short embrace. Her arms around my

    waist, and mine cradling her head against my chest. No pretense. No
    awkwardness. Just an honest expression between friends.

    Bonding and struggling.

    Classes unceremoniously began the next day and, over the

    next several weeks, I settled into a regular routine of school, work, and
    church activities. I was happy to discover that Emily and I were in the same
    'Introduction to Biblical Theology' section together. It was one of the few
    general studies courses where our very different majors overlapped.

    Our respective classes that followed Biblical Theology were

    both on the north side of the campus, so we often walked together and were
    eager to learn more about each other along the way. Some conversations were
    light-hearted and fun, while others were quite deep and personal.

    A bond grew between us as we spent those hours together, and

    we began gravitating toward each other whenever in the same room or at the same
    events. We would always find each other before and after Sunday worship and we
    were always eager to hear each other's thoughts at the weekly NG study. During
    the week, Emily would occasionally stop by the hardware store to say hello and
    chat for a few minutes.

    Over the course of that fall semester, I recognized that my

    mood soared when I saw her, and plummeted on the few occasions when we weren't
    able to connect. My feelings for her were becoming more than just friendship.

    I wrestled with those feelings over the winter break between

    semesters. I had never experienced that kind of emotion for a girl. Confused
    and generally clueless about dating relationships, the last thing I wanted to
    do was mess up our friendship if she didn't feel the same way.

    As the spring term began, I was no closer to resolving my

    internal conflict and decided it was just best to suppress my feelings for
    Emily. When our theology class ended with the fall term, we continued spending
    time together at church, and her social visits to the hardware store became
    more frequent.

    Despite my best efforts, I couldn't completely put thoughts

    of something more than friendship out of my mind and began to do a little
    research. I covertly probed our group of mutual NG friends for information,
    innocently inserting questions into conversations over the course of several
    weeks so they wouldn't discover my interest.

    After assembling all the tidbits, I surmised that Emily

    hadn't dated anyone during her college career, and probably not during high
    school either. Several guys had asked her out over the last couple years, but
    she graciously declined all of them. I was curious to know why but knew I would
    blow my cover if I kept asking questions.

    To be continued in part 2. Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts, for Literotica.

    0 min
  • Barkley College Remedial Human Sexuality Course: Part 8
    Barkley College Remedial Human Sexuality Course: Part 8Life in the spotlights.By zachattack163 and adapted for this platform. Listen to the Podcast At Explicit Novels.




    Grand Casino Hotel.
    At
    the casino, they decided to check in and visit the penthouse suite
    before the pageant in the grand auditorium; and concert, in the 2nd
    stage. They immediately ordered room service and enjoyed some fantastic
    steak and lobster.

    After

    that, they went down past the slot machines and craps tables, then over
    to the grand auditorium, The event team was relieved to see them and go
    over the schedule. Michelle wanted to sit in the VIP section for most
    of the event, then just wait to be signaled to go back stage to prep for
    the coronation.

    “Can we bring you to makeup, Mindy? We need to make sure the shine on your face is minimized.” The director explained.

    Jackson said, “I’ll wait here while you get prepped, Mish, uh, Mindy.”

    Michelle

    winked and smiled, then stepped up and kissed Jackson softly. “Dear
    Jackson, You’re so generous and so patient. I can’t wait for this event
    to finish, so our date can begin in earnest.”

    As

    the director guided Mindy into the production makeup area, several
    pageant contestants started a buzz. They were responsible for their own
    cosmetics, but the special guests got full services from professionals. A
    crowd of girls pressed into the doorway of the makeup room, just off
    the dressing room. A few girls were brave enough and said hi to Mindy.
    She politely said a few things but the cosmetologist needed her to stop
    talking.

    “Let me finish, then let’s visit out there for just a bit. Okay?”

    When

    she got all made up and stepped off the chair, she walked into the
    dressing room. An applause went up, in the room, and she began saying
    some gracious comments about how lovely they all looked and how
    dedicated they must all be. She told them to stay true to the values
    they believe, and find joy in lifting up others. It will allow others to
    be their best, and see you as a force for good whom they can emulate.

    “There

    are so many girls who want good role models. You and I need role
    models, too. Let’s be the role models we can be proud of. Win or lose,
    If you stay true to the best virtues, you win in ways no crown can
    reward you.”

    She looked over at the door and saw Candice standing next to the director. Candice gave her a ‘thumbs up’

    Mindy said; “Now, take a deep breath, girls. It’s show time.

    They cleared a path as she walked over to Candice. ”I need $400 cash, now. Or I’m walking.”

    Candice handed a sealed white envelope and said, “Thank you, Mindy. You’re doing more than the contract required.”

    “I’m doing it for these girls, Candice. Not you.”

    “It’s clearly the noble thing.” If you finish as strong as you’ve started, I’ll have made a wise choice, accepting your terms.”

    Michelle

    found her front row seat and handed Jackson the envelope. “Can you
    count it, Jackson? If it isn’t the full $400, we’ll leave now.”

    Jackson ripped the edge and pulled out one $500 bill. He handed it to her.

    “Can you hang onto it? We’ll figure out a good use for it later.”

    As

    the pageant moved along, Mindy got the signal to go back stage. As the
    girls finished their last Choreographed stage production, the M C
    announced; “And now, Leading global spokes-model, Mindy Olson, to conduct
    the coronation we’ve been waiting for. Mindy was about to walk onto the
    stage, but the director stopped her. “Your speech will be 35 seconds,
    then you go on stage. That’s when the auditorium heard and saw the
    improv speech she gave the girls in the dressing room. The reverb sound
    recording was actually quite good, and when the M C said, Ladies and
    Gentlemen, Miss Mindy Olson, the crowd instantly cheered. Mindy was a
    sage, a mentor to girls. A best friend to fretting parents who fear
    their daughters aren’t listening.

    The

    M C did the rest of the work. Mindy simply stood in her lovely black
    velvet cocktail dress she wore from home. Her hands remained behind her
    back as the contestants dissolved from five, to four, to second
    runner-up, to the final two. When first runner up was named, The other
    girl’s face was stunned, shocked, then tearful and shaking. Michelle
    stepped up behind her and with a firm hand on her bicep, Mindy steadied
    her for the coronation.

    When

    her head steadied enough, Michelle used both hands to place the tiara,
    then smoothly set a few hairpins. The M C handed the new Teen Miss a
    huge bokay of roses. The pretty brunette just turned and hugged Mindy.
    “I won’t let you down, Mindy. I’ll do my best. “

    “Okay

    girl, Mindy said. You got this. Go walk down this catwalk and greet the
    audience. You got this.” Mindy slipped off stage and found Jackson near
    the stage steps.

    Mindy fell into his embrace, tears from nerves were flowing.

    “Your

    inner strength is amazing, Michelle. I think you even surprise
    yourself, if that is possible.” He hugged her a little longer, then
    added; “The warm up band just finished their set. Jonas Brothers going
    on stage in about 10 minutes. Are you still interested?” Jackson
    deferred to his very busy date.

    “Yes, Oh yes! I finally get my date with you!” Michelle said as she kissed him long and intense.

    They decided to hurry up to the penthouse suite to change into some grungy casual clothes.

    At

    the vanity mirror, Michelle took a double take. “Oh my god. Who’s in my
    mirror?” She had never seen herself in stage makeup. Everything was
    immaculate, but over the top.

    “Yeah, I love it!” Jackson said. “Are you okay with keeping it on for a while more?”

    “If

    you like it, it stays.” Michelle flatly said. “Now drink some of that
    coffee they brought up! I need you to keep your energy up, you stud!
    I’ve got carnal urges to work through, and a great admiration for your
    tolerance with my past baggage interrupting our big date. I don’t know
    where guys like you come from, because you’re truly amazing.”

    Both

    were in blue jeans and light summer tops. They got to the concert just a
    minute before the Jonas Brothers got to the stage. It was general
    admission with mostly open floor. Some perimeter riser seats were still
    available. They rocked away the next hour at the concert. But after the
    8th request for a selfie, they decided to go meander the casino and
    other attractions.

    They

    stopped by the hotel lobby, and asked the concierge to break the five
    hundred dollar bill. “Ten twenties, and three hundreds.” Jackson
    requested. The concierge said he’d be back with it in 2 minutes.

    “Let’s

    use part of this to cover the food for tomorrow’s pool party for the
    gang.” Michelle suggested. The concierge returned with the bills,
    counted it, and slipped in in an envelope for them.

    By 11pm they were both more interested in their luxury suite than anything else.

    Aspen Park RV Resort

    Elizabeth

    and William rolled into the RV resort entrance around 7pm. They stopped
    at the front office to confer with the management.

    “Elizabeth!

    Glad to see you. The organization has set aside a rather secluded site
    for you. Here’s the info. Also, Please understand that for this weekend,
    this is not a public resort. As such, it deeds over all the privileges
    of a private property. Those residing here this weekend are free to go
    about the facilities in all the freedom of a person taking a bath. Do
    you understand where I’m going with this?”

    William  was quick to translate the message; “The Nature Club happens to be a

    naturalist club. They’re nudists, in case you’re confused.”

    “Oh,

    now everything makes sense.” Elizabeth finally concluded. “Yeah, we’re
    okay with that. But we don’t know them. Are they; are they all decent
    folks?”

    “I

    know the local members, and I’m staking my business reputation on their
    integrity” the manager assured them. “They’re okay with you introducing
    yourselves to them and I know you’ll not have any problem with their
    respect for the two of you.”

    William

    and Elizabeth were giddy as they drove along the park trail that the
    map detailed for them. There was still 2 hours of daylight, so they did
    get a bit distracted by the foot traffic along the way.

    Parking

    the RV, they set the levelers and stabilizers. Then they connected the
    electric, and water. William cranked out the side awning and Elizabeth
    unfolded the lawn chairs by the fire pit.

    That’s when Elizabeth said she wanted to take a quick shower.

    “I can walk you there, If you want the company?” William offered.

    “Oh, that’s so sweet of you. My protector, my champion, my hero!”

    “It’s called chivalry, and my father would beat me silly if I failed at this manly duty.”

    As they were approaching the big shower building; Elizabeth squinted her eyes, looking at a nude man in the distance.

    “Liz! it’s not polite to stare.” William advised.

    “William? Elizabeth?” the man shouted in a happy tone.

    “It’s Professor Garza!” the two shouted in unison.

    Antonio

    ran over, cock flapping freely, and gathered them in a group hug.
    Awkwardly Elizabeth and William were wrapped in his arms, staring down
    at his flaccid cock.

    “Elizabeth,

    I saw your name on the contract, which the resort wanted us to accept;
    but no way did I figure it was the same student I knew. And William? Uh,
    are you two, you two? I mean are you guys a thing?”

    “Uh,

    it’s complicated and we’d really love to explain it, but we signed this
    thing; that our professors said was real serious, about discussing
    things outside the classroom.”

    “Oh,

    Oh wow! You guys don’t know. Remember the international group of
    scholars we collaborated with, on this alternative sex ed class? Well,
    the consortium is all here, in this resort.” Tonight Phoebe and I are
    giving them a report. I’d really love to get debriefed on the social
    outcomes of your student group, to the extent you two are comfortable
    with?”

    “William and Elizabeth looked at each other and shrugged. “Sure, let’s talk.”

    “Great. Come over to our RV, and let’s include Phoebe in the discussion. “

    As they walked, Antonio loudly addressed Phoebe in the distance. “Oh Phoebe, look who came by to visit?”

    Phoebe

    was sitting in a camp chair, reading a book, but when she looked up and
    recognized the kids, she screamed and came running, her pendulous tits
    swinging wildly. She did the same group hug.

    Antonio

    said they need to discuss the social outcomes. The four went into the
    RV and sat at the dining table. Antonio brought out beers. They were
    some Spanish label, but William and Elizabeth were in an indulgent mood.

    The

    two students tag-teamed telling about the first pizza party. William
    told them about the guys’ gaming event. Elizabeth gave the details of
    the ladies brunch. Then she talked about the raucous game night that
    followed their pool party.

    Finally

    they discussed what was currently happening, all over this part of the
    state, with the students getting paired up and seeking to create their
    own ideals for a great date.

    “So,

    literally; William and I are on a date right now. He was in charge of
    our social itinerary, I’m responsible for the final destination venue.”

    “You chose to hang out with us?” Phoebe asked.

    “Gawd

    no. My folks own the RV Dealership on the edge of town. I grew up
    selling and servicing them. I thought going on a date in an RV would be
    adventurous.” Elizabeth explained.

    So, How long have you two been dating?” Phoebe wanted to know.

    “About

    8 hours, ma’am.” William explained. “Today’s our first date. We went to
    the Blueberry festival in my home town of Brighton. We came here
    afterward, and tomorrow we head back. Tomorrow night is our class pool
    party, at the condo where Rebecca and Bethany live. We’ll all give
    reports on the dates. Then, who knows.” William detailed the plans.

    “Gawd!

    I love that game night you kids had. Antonio, why don’t we think of
    edgy stuff like them?” the buxom Professor Phoebe Garza protested.

    “So, three of you students were virgins at the beginning of the class?” Do you think the virgins handled the stress well?”

    Well”,

    Elizabeth began. I think they can speak better than I can, but
    generally, your continual stressing of a supportive environment, coupled
    with a balanced influence of drill sergeant barking, pushed them while
    encouraging them. That and the threat of not enrolling in fall semester,
    well it seems to have worked. One of them is still very concerned what
    her prudish mother may find out, but yeah, She even won the game night
    and is now the declared “Cock Queen”.

    Chuckles erupted all around.

    Kids,

    You have no idea just how big this news is. It’s bordering on
    unbelievable. Tell you what,” Antonio paused, then said; “It would mean
    so so much to us if the two of you could inconvenience your date time,
    in order to be at our presentation, in a half hour. It’s over in the
    activity center, next to the pool.

    You

    won’t need to talk to anyone, or anything. We just want to be able to
    refute the skeptics, if they say we’re not being accurate.” Phoebe
    explained.

    “Uh, it will be hard to remain anonymous in that room, with our clothes on, sir.” William reasoned.

    Good

    perceptivity, young man. Perhaps you’ll agree to blend in with a
    wardrobe adjustment. Or draw more attention to yourselves by standing
    out. I know the professors will likely insist on asking the two of you
    almost as many questions as they will have for Phoebe and me.”

    “I’ll strip”, Elizabeth volunteered. William countered with his similar pledge.
    “We’ll

    see you in a half hour,” William said as he stood to leave. The two
    were giddy as they skipped down the trail to their RV. Twenty minutes
    later they were seated off to the left side of the lectern. They were
    buck naked and eager to discover the global brain trust who devised
    their experimental class format.

    Symposium

    Phoebe

    and Antonio were among the more attractive segment of the scholars, but
    there were plenty of eye candy objects filing in and visiting.

    Then

    Antonio stood up at the podium and gave the opening session
    announcements. Phoebe passed out the syllabus for the weekend and
    returned to Antonio’s side. Together they served as social hosts for the
    gathering, and then turned everyone’s attention to the academic paper
    that the Garzas had composed and submitted to the sociology journals.

    They

    presented their class setup, format, rules, and policies. They reported
    on the student responses and compliance. No student’s names were
    stated, but William and Elizabeth had no problem identifying who was
    being described.

    “Before

    we entertain questions, Phoebe and I have an informal update of
    significant insight. We were not able to prepare a written update, but
    we’ll present it orally, to this exclusive group, tonight.

    They then detailed the impromptu pizza party, followed by the gals brunch and the Guys game night.

    But what broke past the limits of credibility was the details of the sex games, which officially started as a pool party.

    Un-phased

    by the gestures of skepticism, Antonio spoke briefly of the arranged
    dates. Phoebe added,” We still need further debriefing, as those dates
    are occurring this evening.”

    The

    team from Dublin University finally interrupted; “Tony, we’ve always
    respected your scholarship; but this is the stuff of an erotic novel.
    None of us can plausibly convince our regents to take this report at
    face value. “

    Several others grumbled agreement with the Irish Academics.

    “What further substantiation would you need, kind sirs?” Antonio stared him in the face.
    “Why, I don’t know. The format we agreed upon protects every student, and I’d doubt any of them will come forward.”

    Instantaneously, Elizabeth and William stepped up to the lectern. The room hushed.

    Phoebe Garza spoke up. “If there lacks sufficient incredulity, we’ll now add even more.
    We

    told you that our oral addition came too recent for us to provide a
    written report. The fact is, Everything we told you about what happened
    outside the classroom, was only revealed to Antonio and me, mere minutes
    ago.

    Seems

    one of those couples who were paired up for a date, just happened to
    include an RV camping component. Her parents own the RV dealership where
    most of you rented your campers for the conference. He took her up to
    the Brighton Blueberry festival that some of you chose to attend. He is
    from that town.

    “Now

    I charge you all to keep that data completely confidential upon the
    threat of public condemnation and expulsion from this society.”
    Antonio’s voice was sober and vigilant.

    “My

    friends, meet Johnny and Linda. “ Antonio introduced them to a silent
    reception. “Students, take your leave to make such comments as you deem
    appropriate and insightful.

    The

    kids gave their experiences from the beginning. How they got their
    initial phone calls, What they were feeling on the first class session.
    How the professors guided the class, and how their minds and attitudes
    transformed as the sessions progressed.

    “Honestly,

    I barely knew anything about maybe two of the others. We were
    essentially total strangers, and it was the first class we had with
    Phoebe. Hell, it was the first class Antonio ever taught at our
    college.“ Elizabeth laid out her perspective. She wanted to add;
    “Fellas, my eyes are up here”. Because Elizabeth’s D cup tits are high
    and firm. A trait all the rest of the females lost decades ago, if they
    ever had it.

    “I’m

    telling you,” William emphasized; “at our pizza party, the 12 of us
    were shocked at what we accomplished. This is my first date with
    Elizabeth. But I have a mutual trust and appreciation for her that words
    cannot explain. The Garzas facilitated that”

    “By

    the third session,” Elizabeth interjected; “we were all waiting at the
    lecture bowl door, 20 minutes before class began. We were all impeccably
    groomed and adorned in jewelry. Smelling scrumptious!

    Several scholars chuckled at that imagery.

    “After

    two sessions, we all, even the virgins, couldn’t wait to get naked and
    continue this beautiful discovery.” William added. “This meeting, right
    here, right now; is the very first time either of us have been nude in a
    public setting. But it was so easy, after all we learned from the Garza
    team.

    A French professor redirected; “Tell us how you came up with the sex games?”

    William

    admitted that it was all a scheme the girls came up with. “Us guys had
    no idea just how horny female coeds could be, especially when they
    collude on a scheme. I think they wanted to embarrass us guys, but it
    was game-on!”

    Roars of laughter ensued.

    Elizabeth

    held up her hand to call for silence. Rather than explain it. How about
    if William and I conduct the games, tonight. There are what; 8 guys and
    8 or nine ladies, by my quick survey. Are you folks up for a few rounds
    of blindfolded fun?”

    By

    the end of the 4th competition, the Blow Job phase, the scholars all
    totally bought into the narrative, and completely loved all 4
    competitions. They seemed to revert to their younger personalities.
    William and Elizabeth loved being the ones dominating their students.

    Walking back to the RV, Elizabeth wrapped her arm around William and leaned her head on his side.

    Then the mosquitos found them, and they raced back to the RV.

    The

    RV rocked that night, even with the stabilizers set. The next morning,
    the Garzas stopped by to visit. At first the young couple was
    embarrassed, until their waking brains realized that these two
    instructors taught them how to fuck and how to get over prudish shame.

    Elizabeth turned on the coffeemaker and pulled out a coffee cake for the foursome.

    Phoebe

    and Antonio were at a loss for a sufficient expression of appreciation
    for what the students did for them, academically and professionally.

    “To

    start with,” William pressed the eminent matter. “There’s no way you
    can expect Liz and me to not tell our classmate this incredible story, I
    mean what happened in the campground, last night.”

    Phoebe and Antonio looked puzzled.

    “Can we tell the other 10 how we ran into you, and how we helped your presentation?”

    “Of

    course” Phoebe assured them. “But only them. The basic wall of trust
    stays within the enrollment. About the group that met last night, just
    don’t identify any specific person. But yes, do tell them how our sex
    games transpired. I think they’ll get a kick out of the story! Those
    social gatherings are your academic achievement. The twelve of you
    deserve to know what you’ve accomplished. Welcome to the fellowship of
    academians. But we need to also ask the twelve of you another special
    favor..”

    Park Plaza.

    When

    Bruce and Bethany left the dance, they stopped over at Bruce’s family
    ranch to change clothes and return the borrowed boots and hat. Bethany
    got in the truck wearing just a sexy ensemble of sandals, a satin
    camisole and Black satin shorts. Thirty minutes later they arrived at
    the Park Plaza tower, Bethany began asserting her desires for Bruce. “If
    Rebecca’s bra is hooked on her bedroom door, It means what you think it
    means.”

    Unlocking

    the front door on their 7th floor condo, Bethany and Bruce were quite
    informed. Clothing was scattered roughly in a trajectory toward
    Rebecca’s bedroom door. A red lacy bra erased any lingering uncertainty,
    dangling from the gold knob.

    Quietly, Bethany took Bruce’s hand and guided him to the other bedroom’s door.

    “Giggling

    was heard, faintly. Then not so faintly. Ah! Stop, Thomas! Oh God! Get
    back up here.” Rebecca’s passionate expressions were unmistakable.

    Once

    in the privacy of her bedroom, Bethany turned up the volume on the
    Bluetooth speaker. Her playlist was looping since this afternoon.
    Evidently, Line dancing wasn’t the only type of dance lessons Bethany
    studied on YouTube. Her sensual disrobing skills were sultry and
    captivating.

    Bruce obediently sat on the foot of the bed and admired.

    The

    final garment was the black thong. Her ass was fully in his face as she
    bent to guide the lacy black thing to her ankles. A few belly dancing
    skills from the Arab culture transitioned her presentation to a kneeling
    position, where she commenced in disrobing him.

    When

    his jacket and shirt were removed, Bethany placed her hands on each
    side of his head and kissed him with passion and exploration in her intentions. As the two tongue-wrestled, she overpowered him and laid him
    back on the bed. Her massive pendulous tits dangled across his chest.

    His belt and waistband undone, she slid both her open hands under his ass.

    She lifted his lower body, and slid all his lower layers clean past his toes.

    That’s when she came back up and laid her tits on his chest while resuming a hot French kiss.

    Bruce

    knew how to read a woman of passion and aggression. He wisely avoided
    interfering with her desire to express herself. And he loved it. All of
    it!

    While

    Bethany next focused on his lovely turgid cock, Bruce could faintly
    hear a distant female voice scream; “Oh God. Oh God! Ah! Yes.”

    That finally distracted Bethany from her passionate intensity as she sucked Bruce’s curved long cock.

    “Bethany chuckled after releasing his cock from her mouth;” So do you think Rebecca is getting along with Thomas?”

    Bruce laughed; “I gotta remember all these lines. They will be priceless to recite over coffee, in the morning.”

    Meanwhile,

    Bethany had just rotated and straddled him. Her mouth engulfed his
    curved cock from above. In one slow, uninterrupted motion, Bethany
    glided Bruce’s cock tip into the middle of her throat.

    The

    sensations were indescribable for Bruce. But he tried to delay the
    inevitable by focusing his mind on a thorough exploration of Bethany’s
    freshly waxed cunt. Her clit was so easy to find, bulging prominently
    out from between her swollen lips. He latched his lips to her hard bulb
    and sucked hard, while rolling his stiffened tongue around it, in
    continuous circles.

    Bethany

    began to tremble, first her knees, then her hips. Bruce wrapped his
    arms tightly around her ass and pressed his tongue firmly to her hard
    clit. This was primarily a preventative, as her twerking legs could
    easily leave his face black and blue from spasms which mimicked an
    epileptic seizure.

    What

    Bethany was unaware of, was the three rapid blasts of cum that shot into
    her throat. In the midst of her spasmodic orgasm, she released his cock
    and took a big breath of air. Then the shakes interrupted her plans for
    the next 45 seconds.

    When she came back to her senses, She was disappointed to find Bruce gone semi limp.

    Aggressively resuming her oral attack, she was surprised when Bruce squirmed; “Stop! Too much! I’m too sensitive.”

    Bethany was confused. This isn’t something her professors prepared her to deal with.

    She flipped around to face him, straddling forwarding this time.

    “Can I help you with something.” Bethany gently asked.

    “You already did. That was the most amazing blowjob ever given.”

    Huh?

    “I came already. My cock needs a break for a little while.”

    “You came?”

    “Hell yeah, in your throat. Three blasts. It was amazing.”

    Happy with herself, Bethany laid down in his arms. “I have to tell you, I’m not done with you yet.”

    That’s the best words I could hope for, lovely lady.”

    Wilburn State Forest.

    The

    woods of Lake Wilburn State forest sounded like a new wolf moved into
    the neighborhood. Erika’s loud orgasmic howls bellowed uninhibited.

    In

    the morning, Devon took Erica skinny-dipping. They even solemnized the
    weekend with a slow fuck in waist-deep water. Erica’s legs wrapped Devon
    tightly, and he loved the feel of her buxom tits pressed into his
    chest. They kissed as they gyrated. After his arms started to tire, he
    walked them out of the water and gently set her down on the blanket near
    the shore of the secluded cove. There he drove all 10 inches deep into
    her hungry cunt.

    Devon

    came quickly last night. But this shoreline fuck was his 5th, and it took
    nearly 20 minutes before his tower of pleasure erupted against the far
    wall of Erica’s insatiable cunt.

    Devon

    rolled off, fully spent and drained. Erica laid there, holding his
    hand, staring up at the morning clouds floating by. In a few minutes,
    she rolled up over him and slid down.

    “Really, Erica? You need more?” Devon sounded terrified.
    “No,

    Devon. You made me quite content.” Sliding further down and fondling
    his flaccid cock up close, she started directing her words to his mighty
    cock.

    “Mr.

    Cock, I love how you make me feel so special. You were designed by a
    brilliant creator, just to make a woman happy. And for that, you have my
    deep respect and devotion, Mr. Cock.”

    Erica

    continued to caress and kiss the lovely yet limp cock. She licked and
    stoked the mighty phallus, but turgid was not to become a 6th visit for
    Devon.

    Have you ever had this much sex in a weekend, Devon?

    Devon silently stared at Erica.

    “Oh, My Gawd, I forgot you were a virgin until last month.” Are there any girls who have your interest?”

    “Oh,

    there are 6 girls I think the world of. You happen to be one of them.”
    Devon said, not realizing just how seductive his words could be.

    “”Devon,

    you are an amazing man.. I am so honored to have this weekend alone
    with you. I really don’t want it to end, actually. But I also know five
    other such fellas and in all honesty, They are all as precious to me as
    you are. Is that okay with you?”

    Yeah,

    I love what Michelle once said. She built an intimate trust with Bruce,
    but didn’t want to claim exclusive dibs on him, and thus alienate the
    other girls in the process.

    Casa Madera.

    Malcolm

    awoke to the sound of songbirds outside the bedroom window of their
    cabin. He rolled toward Alexis’ backside, and wrapped his arms around
    her. His stiffening cock slid into the crevasse of her crotch. His
    fingers fondled both her tits.

    “What

    a wake up service! This hotel is amazing” the sleepy girl smirked. Then
    she wiggled her ass against him. His tally-whacker somehow found a
    hidden cave and went spelunking. Alexis loved the warm embrace that
    surrounded her, the arousal of her stiffened nipples, and especially the
    fullness of this beautiful Irish cock deep inside her, causing a tingly
    feeling all over her relaxed body. They made slow love to each other.
    First arousing her 4th amazing climax in 12 hours, then the happy
    fullness of his warm semen swimming further into her whole being.

    How could her mother ever reject this love from her father? Alexis determined to never be shamed by such a destructive attitude.

    The two showered and spent a quiet morning on the porch with plenty of coffee and letting their sore tender spots recover.

    Grand Casino Hotel.

    As

    Michelle and William checked out of the grand casino hotel, the
    concierge did everything. They had a seat in the lobby while the valet
    and bellhop brought up their car and loaded it. William finally looked
    at the Sunday paper which was handed to him. There on the cover was a
    photo of the newly crowned state Teen Miss . She was in a deep embrace
    with “Mindy Olson”. The article recapped the entire pageant, and
    especially the unscheduled appearance of Mindy Olson.

    As

    the concierge notified them that the car is loaded and waiting, William
    took a slip of paper and made a note directing the concierge to split a
    hundred dollar tip among himself, $40; room service, $30; and lobby
    staff, $30.

    Three

    pageant girls came over to say hi. The ginger-headed one said she just
    loved the inspirational message in the dressing room. “Where did you
    read that” Young Kelly asked?

    Well,

    it took me twenty years to learn that lesson, through my own mistakes.
    It was all my own spontaneous message, but I’m not proud of what it took
    me to learn my lessons.

    They posed for some selfies. The concierge handling all the cell phones and snapping the pics.

    Then

    William and Michelle were off to enjoy breakfast in the campus
    cafeteria. William and Michelle sent a text to everyone, saying they
    were covering the pizza and fixings. Bethany and Rebecca were authorized
    to spend up to $100.

    While

    eating breakfast at the University cafeteria with William, Michelle’s
    father called. Seems he learned of the front page story in the morning
    paper. She explained her opportunity and how she leveraged it to settle a
    lawsuit. She assured dad that the business arrangement is completely
    done, and she has no interest in ever working with Stellar Modeling. But
    she added; “Dad, I’m surprised at how all these teen girls want my
    advice. I might want to explore consulting opportunities, so young girls
    don’t get exploited like I allowed myself to be.” That made dad so
    happy. Not so much her business idea, but the heart-felt lessons she
    learned through her whirlwind modeling experience.

    “I was just nervous that you took on Candice by yourself.” Dad explained.

    “I

    was on a date with William, dad. He’s a lab partner in one of my summer
    semester classes. He even pressed Candice for some cash appearance
    fees.” Candice buckled more than I imagined she would. “ Michelle
    beamed. “ Oh, by the way. I’m getting an A in my health class, so that’s
    more good news. I couldn’t have done it without great lab partners.”

    Dad was heard telling mom that Michelle got an A in a class she had to retake.

    “Dad,

    my lab partner and I need to finish our last research. It’s due before
    tomorrow.” Michelle added, to get Dad off the phone. He didn’t want to
    be holding her back from academics.
    Park Plaza.

    Coffee

    time in Rebecca’s kitchen was full of banter. Everything from the trail
    of discarded clothing, like breadcrumbs leading to Rebecca’s bedroom
    doorknob, Bethany’s yodeling cries of orgasmic bliss. “Oh Thomas, Oh,
    too much!”

    “I

    sincerely respect the authenticity of Rebecca’s religion. Her bedtime
    prayers are from the heart and full of worship. I heard her
    passionately. Oh God, Oh God! Yes!”

    Then

    Rebecca told how, “every old man at the country club felt like they
    were entitled to a dance with me.” Thomas felt like he had 25 grandpas
    giving him dating and seduction advice.

    “Don’t forget all those Milfs who wanted to press their big tits against you on the dance floor?”

    Bruce and Bethany had some similar stories from the Barn Dance. But the folksy ranchers just said it in cruder words.

    “And

    I lost count of how many times my ass got slapped during line dances.”
    Bethany added. “Oh, and who knew Bruce broke so many girls’ hearts all
    over that township. The jealous stares I got. It was so funny.”

    “It didn’t bother you?” Rebecca asked.

    “No, and Bruce’s mom was fantastic! She prepared me for everything. She has the best western boot collection!”

    “Yeah, my mom had her decked out in authentic country girl vogue.” Bruce grinned.

    Rebecca

    started to get up to refill her coffee. That’s when she remembered just
    how sore her cunt was. “I think my pussy wants a temporary vow of
    celibacy, about now.

    “Yeah, I need to pee something fierce, but I’m too sore to get out of this chair.” Bethany admitted.

    The guys were silent and feeling indicted of wrong-doing. “Sorry” both of them said; practically in unison.

    Thomas got up for Rebecca and told her to sit and rest.

    “Sorry Bethany, I’d go pee for you, if it helped.” Bruce offered.

    “No”

    Bethany replied “You gave me everything I wanted. I’ll own this sore
    pussy. And when it feels better, I’ll hunger for more of the same.”

    “The only thing worse that a sore pussy, is an unsatisfied pussy.” Rebecca waxed poetic.

    The invitation.

    At 11 am, a text message was sent by Elizabeth, to all the classmates:

    “Can we move the pool party out to Aspen Park RV Resort. It’s a special request from Professors Phoebe and Antonio Garza.”

    “Before

    you all ask William and me a million questions, let me say the past 24
    hours have been shocking and amazing.” That’s all William and I will
    say, until we can all meet in one room.”

    William

    and I are going to remain here at the resort, today. The pool is great
    and the Resort is fully reserved for a large conference. But we are
    having a blast with everyone!”

    “Get

    here as soon as you can. You don’t need to bring anything! Anything at
    all! You will deeply regret it, if you decline the invite. Believe me!”

    The foursome at Park Plaza began chattering about the mysterious texts from Elizabeth.

    “Did she and William elope?” Bruce threw out there for starters.

    “Maybe it’s a multi-level marketing scam? Thomas rebutted.

    “Elizabeth is a very reliable person, as best I can say. And so is William.”

    “And what’s the meaning of, and I quote; ‘anything at all’?”

    Devon called Bethany; “Are you playing twenty questions, yet?”

    “For real!” Bethany chuckled. Are you and Erica going?”

    “We’re just 15 minutes away. Here, Erica wants to say something.”

    “Hey Girl” Erica said in a high pitch, like excited girls do. “Are you and Rebecca walking funny?”

    “Ugg, I’m sore, but serenely happy. I’ll save the rest of my words til we get together. “

    “Okay, I called mom and told her I’ll be home tonight, but probably late. See you when you get to the Aspen Park Resort.”

    Rebecca’s phone rang and it was Alexis; “Hey, we were just packing up when the text came in. Is everyone going?”

    “Seems like it.” Rebecca confirmed. We’ve heard from everyone except William and Michelle.

    Just then Bruce’s phone rang. “It’s William” he said as he stepped away to talk. “Hey William!”

    “My Gawd, Bruce. I don’t know if this date can get any more bizarre.”

    “Yeah”

    Bruce agreed. “By the way, we’re holding off on ordering food. It
    sounds like Devon and Erica will be out there in 10 or 15 minutes.
    Rebecca is talking to Alexis right now. You and Michelle were the last
    to check in.”

    “We just had a bite to eat at the campus cafeteria. Michelle wants to know how to pack?”

    “Wish I could help you with that. We’re completely clueless.” Bruce admitted. “Are you guys able to go? And how soon?”

    Yeah,

    I just need to help Michelle adjust. We have a whopper of a story to
    tell. She’s on the front page of the morning newspaper.”

    What? Bruce was shocked. “No, save it for the gathering.”

    “Anyway,

    Bruce, your advice to me was so helpful. Flexible was the key word.
    Still is, I guess.” We’re in jeans and sneakers. I think we’ll just go
    as we are?”

    “That’s

    what I’m doing. I won’t speak for the two women in the room, though. I
    guess we’ll head out from here, and we might be the last to arrive, if
    Alexis and Malcolm are as close as I think they are.”
    Bruce hung up and said; “Bethany, you might want to pick up the Sunday paper on our way to meet the gang?”

    By zachattack163 for Literotica

    0 min

About My First Time

From the publisher's feed

Tales of experiencing that first time. Some of them may be true.