SEASONS OF SEX, region 1

FALL, 1967

Sexually, I was a late bloomer. Not that I had no sexual feelings : I had been masturbating ( to a dry orgasm for the first few eld ) since the age of 5. My practical experience with girls was, however, almost nonexistent. But from the beginning time Annabelle Lee sneaked away from the church service pushover with me and kissed me under the big tree at metropolis Park, flicking her slick natural language in to mine and running a knowing digit along the stiffening protuberance in my genitalia, I was in love with her and hooked on sexual delight. I was a virgin at the time, and as far as I know she was too, though her experience with arousal was far groovy than mine. I was barely XVII ; she was an older woman : seventeen and a half.

It was n't long before she was letting me feeling her diminutive breasts and granting me enticing glimpses up her miniskirts. The evening we parked in a darkened region and she let my hands run up her bare thighs to her damp cotton pantie was also the kickoff day I witnessed a female orgasm. I was thrilled to place my palm over her genital organ and feel the soft female nothingness there where I was accustomed to feeling my own big male plumbing. Pressing inward, I felt her vaginal slit and heard her pant of pleasure. As our oral cavity licked at each other, I let my finger do by instinct what they had never done by practice. Writhing on the end of my finger, legs banquet wide, gasping and stiffening as her pantie slid around her slippery cuntlips, she was an object of such passion and beauty that I almost came in my own jeans. In fact, I did just that when, grateful for the pleasance I had almost unwittingly given her, she stroked my cock gently for about three endorsement. My gasps of hug drug, the shadow stain down my leg and the musky aroma which filled the car left no incertitude what had happened. We were a contented couple for at least five instant, at which clip we started in again. We remained virgins, though, technically, for a honest three calendar month more, jacking each other off, fingering each early to orgasm, or rubbing our garment crotches together until we came, panting and moaning and filling our underwear with sexjuice.

Annabelle was not that sexy to look at at first glance. She looked about 11 or 12 with midget tits, pigtailed red hair, and skinny legs. There was hardly any hair on her cunt. But she longed to circularise those branch, and have those tits sucked, and have that cunt licked and fingered. When she took my deal and called me"Daddy,"I wanted to accommodate her in a most unfatherly way.

About the Sami clock time I met Annabelle at Christian church, I met Belinda Carr at schoolhouse. She too was petite, just a little taller and fuller-figured than Annabelle. We both sang in a group of take singer who specialized in madrigals. We dressed in Scots English garb, the male child wearing kilts and sportcoats, the miss wearing scant barbarian clothes with low ruffled necklines. Belinda did n't cause much in the way of segmentation, but she was n't embarrassed at showing off what she did deliver, as were some of the better-endowed lady friend. When Belinda had to lean forward for some intellect, there was none of this concern of demurely shielding her tit from aspect by a strategically placed hand ; she just let her blouse fall away and let her breasts, such as they were, hang as they would. The braless facial expression was not in fashion yet, and would n't have been allowed at our schoolhouse anyhow. But since her knocker were n't all that big, her bra did fall away from time to metre, revealing the edges of tight brown nipples. And to school she usually wore form-fitting slacks which showed off a nice round ass and a angelic, plump, indented pubis.

Belinda 's font was not beautiful, and as far as I was concerned, that was her saving gracility. Had she been a KO, I would have been too shy to speak to her. But her nozzle was a bit big, her chin a bit belittled, her lips a bit thin. Her eyes got to me, though. Big, gorgeous, expressive blue center. And her look was framed by the long, straight, parted-in-the middle fuzz that was in style then. She was ache, and sexy, and even though I had a hard-on whenever I was in her front, I was not rendered mute by my attraction. To the contrary, I was moved to verbalise to her, to befriend her, to woo her.

But then on the weekends, when I saw Annabelle, I was confused. She clearly thought of me as her one and only, and when we were fingering and slobbering over each other in the back seat of the car, I did n't see the need for another little girl in my lifespan. Except—well, when I was sucking and mauling Annabelle 's bantam titties, I wondered what it might be like to spiel with some slightly with child boobs—say, Belinda 's, for instance. And would Belinda 's cunt -- supposedly covered with dreary, curly pilus -- sense of taste different from Annabelle 's sweet red slit, sparsely covered with vivid orange ? Did Belinda moan when she came ? Did her pussy squirt juices, or contract and pulsate, as did Annabelle 's ?

In short, I was a teenage boy. Still, I was a teenaged boy with a gumption of award, if not commitment, so for a yearn time I remained congregation to Annabelle. Especially after she and I actually started fucking.

Our first clip was, as it seemed to be for so many of our generation, in a parked car. Annabelle 's Father of the Church was a high-power lawyer, and he had a gorgeous Buick Electra that would probably sit eight people. It would sleep two, anyway, in the back seat, though we never did much sleeping. So of course, it was only a issue of time before we"went all the way."We were lying in the rear can kissing. She wore a light unforesightful cotton fiber dress with cotton scanty and nothing else underneath it. I soon had my psyche up under the dress sucking her nipple, my hand inside her tiny panties.

"Guess what,"she hissed, pulling my shirttail out and caressing my bare back.

"What ?"I asked, as I flicked away at one wet footling nipplenub.

"I'm on the Pill."

She didn't have to say any Thomas More. I moved lower and pulled her scanty down. She spread her boyish white thighs full for me. As I licked her fragrant cunt, I undid my pants and pulled them down, freeing my rampant rooster. Her cunt was wet, slippery, flowing, fix."fuck me,"she said."screwing me, angelical Ricky."

I crawled up and kissed her. She licked my mouth, my face, loving her own creamy juices. I positioned my heavy member at her sweet footling puss and rubbed the chief up and down the juicy chess opening. I was ready, and she seemed to be. I slid my cock gently into her oozing cunt, and reveled in the denseness of her virgin vagina. Just the heading was inside, and I thought I might come then and there."Oh, diddly-squat, Ricky, just do it ... .Fuck me ... Put it in ...."

I did ... slowly, surely, I pressed my thrilled pecker into Annabelle's tight, wet, juicy cunt. Her virginal membrane gave way, she gasped in pain in the ass and held me unaired, and I slid myself all the way inside.

She pulled her dress off over her headland."I want to see,"she gasped. She jutted her hips up as I slid my glistening rod in and out."That looks so cool off,"she moaned. There was some stemma, but well-nigh of the liquid that oozed from her cunt and coated my pecker was sack and slimy.

I pulled all the way out and slid all the way back in."We're not virgins anymore, baby."

"But will you respect me in the first light ?"

"I'll do safe than that. I'll screw you right now."

"Oh, yes ... Oh, God ..."

I slid in and out, faster and faster. It was an incredible sensation, far exceeding my unwarranted phantasy. Her tight little twat squeezed me and sucked at my heavy, raging cock, and just when I knew I could sustain out no longer, Annabelle came in huge, wrenching muscle spasm, her skinny picayune body going unbending, her viselike slit cutting off the circulation to my pecker. Just as her thrashing began to subside, I came. I felt a thick jet of chunky semen force its way through my putz and into her hot cunt. Then another, and then another, until she was so slip my corpse rod could affect even faster and with almost no friction.



"Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh—"Annabelle grunted softly in time with my thursts and her muscle spasm."Uh huh, huh, uh, huh, aaaaaaahhhhh aaaaaahhhhnnnnnnnnggggggggggggggggggg ! ! ! !"and she came again, this clock time lifting herself off the rear end and hanging by her sleeve from my neck and by her second joint from my hips. She tripled the focal ratio of her shag, moaned once more, and then slid off my cock and back down to the leather seat of the car. thick chain of come still connected her oozing snatch to my throbbing prick, and fragrant succus pulsated from her pussy onto the expensive upholstery. I kissed her, and she hungrily tonguefucked my sassing. Then she went limp, murmuring,"Oh my God. Oh my fucking God."

After that we made be intimate wherever and whenever we could get away with it. In the Buick, on some cast aside mattresses in the church attic, in her sleeping accommodation during those rare moments when neither her parents nor her blood brother were around, in the Sir Henry Joseph Wood behind my house, on a picnic tabular array at a deserted eternal rest stop. Her skinny little legs would open, my corneous little scratch would heighten, and we would be at it again. Once, seated in the back pew at church, we were simply holding hands, until Annabelle maneuvered my arm onto her lap, my cubitus pressure against her crotch. She moved only a little, leaving me to stir her with my elbow. By the time she came, her peg were spread out, her minidress was up to her hips, and my human elbow was slipping in straightaway piddling circles on the plume genital organ of her panties. I was hard as a rock, of course of instruction, but I managed to keep myself until after lunch—which was with my parents ! —when we took a unruffled paseo in the wood and she fished my aching hammer out of my suit pant and milked me to a pulsating, satisfying orgasm, my copious white semen pumping out onto the pathway where we stood."That will help the grass grow,"she said as she squeezed out the hold out drops and lifted them to her mouth.

And so the year progressed. By Yuletide pause, we considered ourselves intimate experts, so well had we memorized all the warm, wet, pulsating places on each former's body.

Perhaps this familiarity was the trouble. As much as I loved my intimate times with Annabelle, as much as I loved lying with her in slick, slimy, sweaty, satisfied afterglow, I always found myself wondering what it might be like to be in the Lapplander situation with Belinda.

And with the break from school, I didn't see Belinda any more, and absence made the role grow firmer. It made me feel guilty to do it, but sometimes when I slid my hand into Annabelle's panties, I wondered what it would palpate like to be within Belinda's. And when Annabelle came, clenching and gasping and thrusting her crotch against mine, I wondered what Belinda would be like as she went through the throe of orgasm.

As teenager problems go, it was a nice problem to receive. But it was a unfeigned problem.

Annabelle and I exchanged Noel presents on December 20, since her kin was going to out of body politic for the holidays. We had the theatre to ourselves, thanks to Christmas parties that her parents and buddy were attending. I gave her a leather necklace with a Native American motif ; it was an inexpensive endowment, but she was thrilled and kissed me deeply.

Then she made me go into the kitchen while she got my gift wrapped. She said to come into the life room in five minutes.

quint minutes later I went into the living way, and there under the Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree was my gift : Annabelle stark naked, her pegleg wide-eyed open and facing me, with a sprig of mistletoe fastened to her orange pubic hair with a green ribbon.

"You have two more presents for me, I know,"she said seductively, tweaking one of her nipples with one script."One is that sweet tool between your branch, and the other is that sweet tongue in your mouth."

"They are yours,"I agreed, kneeling between her legs and leaning in to buss and lick her fragrant young snatch."Merry Christmas."

It wasn't unmanageable at all to expose my portray. And I certainly enjoyed helping her unwrap hers .