Seasons Of Sex 1 : Fall 1967


First-Time, School
season OF SEX, part 1

gloaming, 1967

Sexually, I was a later boner. Not that I had no sexual feelings : I had been masturbating ( to a dry orgasm for the first few twelvemonth ) since the age of 5. My hard-nosed experience with female child was, however, almost nonexistent. But from the low gear time Annabelle Lee sneaked away from the Christian church child's play with me and kissed me under the big Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree at city commons, flicking her tricksy lingua in to mine and running a knowing digit along the stiffening hump in my crotch, I was in love life with her and hooked on intimate joy. I was a virgin at the clock time, and as far as I know she was too, though her experience with arousal was far bang-up than mine. I was barely seventeen ; she was an Old cleaning lady : seventeen and a half.

It was n't long before she was letting me touch on her midget knocker and granting me enticing glimpses up her miniskirts. The evening we parked in a darkened locality and she let my bridge player run up her bare thighs to her damp cotton panties was also the first day I witnessed a distaff orgasm. I was thrilled to localise my palm over her crotch and sense the piano female nothingness there where I was accustomed to feeling my own salient male person plumbing. Pressing inward, I felt her vaginal slit and heard her pant of pleasure. As our mouths licked at each other, I let my fingerbreadth do by instinct what they had never done by practice. Writhing on the end of my finger, legs cattle ranch across-the-board, gasping and stiffening as her pantie slid around her slippery cuntlips, she was an objective of such passion and beauty that I almost came in my own dungaree. In fact, I did just that when, grateful for the pleasure I had almost unwittingly given her, she stroked my cock gently for about three s. My pant of ecstasy, the dark stain down my leg and the musky olfactory property which filled the car left no incertitude what had happened. We were a content couple for at least five moment, at which time we started in again. We remained virgins, though, technically, for a good three calendar month more, jacking each other off, fingering each other to orgasm, or rubbing our clothed private parts together until we came, panting and moaning and filling our underwear with sexjuice.

Annabelle was not that sexy to attend at at first coup d'oeil. She looked about 11 or 12 with tiny mammilla, pigtailed red hair, and scrawny legs. There was hardly any hair on her cunt. But she longed to broadcast those branch, and have those boob sucked, and have that cunt licked and fingered. When she took my hand and called me"pappa,"I wanted to support her in a most unfatherly way.

About the same prison term I met Annabelle at church building, I met Belinda Carr at school. She too was diminutive, just a little taller and fuller-figured than Annabelle. We both sang in a group of select singers who specialized in madrigals. We dressed in Scots English attire, the male child wearing kilts and sportcoats, the girls wearing brusque barbarian dresses with low ruffled necklines. Belinda did n't bear much in the way of cleavage, but she was n't embarrassed at showing off what she did have, as were some of the better-endowed young lady. When Belinda had to lean forward for some reason, there was none of this business sector of demurely shielding her bosom from view by a strategically placed mitt ; she just let her blouse fall away and let her titty, such as they were, hang as they would. The topless flavour was not in fashion yet, and would n't have been allowed at our school anyhow. But since her titmouse were n't all that big, her bra did accrue away from time to time, revealing the boundary of tight chocolate-brown nipple. And to school she usually wore form-fitting slacks which showed off a nice stave ass and a Sweet, plump, indented pubis.

Belinda 's face was not beautiful, and as far as I was concerned, that was her saving good will. Had she been a smasher, I would receive been too shy to talk to her. But her nose was a bit big, her chin a bit small, her lips a bit thin. Her eyes got to me, though. Big, gorgeous, expressive gloomy oculus. And her brass was framed by the long, straight, parted-in-the middle hair that was in style then. She was smart, and sexy, and even though I had a erection whenever I was in her presence, I was not rendered mute by my attraction. To the wayward, I was moved to speak 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 fanny of the car, I did n't see the need for another girlfriend in my lifespan. Except—well, when I was sucking and mauling Annabelle 's tiny titties, I wondered what it might be like to bring with some slightly bigger boobs—say, Belinda 's, for instance. And would Belinda 's cunt -- supposedly covered with dark, curly hair -- taste sensation different from Annabelle 's sweet red slit, sparsely covered with brightly orangeness ? Did Belinda moan when she came ? Did her twat squirt juices, or declaration and pulsate, as did Annabelle 's ?

In light, I was a teenage boy. Still, I was a teenage boy with a sense of honor, if not commitment, so for a long time I remained faithful to Annabelle. Especially after she and I actually started fucking.

Our first time was, as it seemed to be for so many of our generation, in a parked car. Annabelle 's father was a high-powered lawyer, and he had a gorgeous Buick Electra that would probably seat eight the great unwashed. It would catch some Z's two, anyway, in the support seat, though we never did practically sleeping. So of course of study, it was only a thing of time before we"went all the way."We were lying in the indorse ass petting. She wore a light curt cotton fiber attire with cotton step-in and nothing else underneath it. I soon had my head up under the dress sucking her nipples, my paw inside her tiny panties.

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

"What ?"I asked, as I flicked away at one stiff piddling nipplenub.

"I'm on the Pill."

She didn't have to say any more than. I moved low and pulled her panties down. She spread her boyish white thighs wide for me. As I licked her fragrant puss, I undid my pants and pulled them down, freeing my rampant turncock. Her cunt was wet, slippery, flowing, set up."Fuck me,"she said."Fuck me, honeyed Ricky."

I crawled up and kissed her. She licked my mouth, my face, loving her own creamy juice. I positioned my hard member at her sweet little incision and rubbed the question up and down the juicy opening move. I was cook, and she seemed to be. I slid my dick gently into her oozing cunt, and reveled in the tightness of her Virgo the Virgin vagina. Just the promontory was inside, and I thought I might fare then and there."Oh, shit, Ricky, just do it ... .Fuck me ... Put it in ...."

I did ... slowly, surely, I pressed my thrilled cock into Annabelle's tight, wet, juicy cunt. Her hymen gave way, she gasped in infliction and held me closer, and I slid myself all the way inside.

She pulled her attire off over her head."I want to see,"she gasped. She jutted her hips up as I slid my glistening rod in and out."That looks so assuredness,"she moaned. There was some blood, but most of the liquidity that oozed from her bitch and coated my turncock was realize 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 morning ?"

"I'll do advantageously than that. I'll fuck you right now."

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

I slid in and out, faster and faster. It was an incredible sensation, far exceeding my raving mad fantasies. Her mingy small zany squeezed me and sucked at my tough, raging stopcock, and just when I knew I could concord out no longer, Annabelle came in Brobdingnagian, wrenching cramp, her close little eubstance going rigid, her viselike pussy cutting off the circulation to my cock. Just as her thrashing began to subside, I came. I felt a thick jet of lumpy semen force its way through my shaft and into her hot slit. Then another, and then another, until she was so crafty my slopped rod could make a motion 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 cramp."Uh huh, huh, uh, huh, aaaaaaahhhhh aaaaaahhhhnnnnnnnnggggggggggggggggggg ! ! ! !"and she came again, this prison term lifting herself off the seat and dangling by her arms from my cervix and by her thigh from my pelvic girdle. She tripled the speed of her fucking, moaned once Sir Thomas More, and then slid off my cock and back down to the leather arse of the car. thick bowed stringed instrument of semen still connected her oozing cunt to my throbbing turncock, and fragrant juices pulsated from her pussy onto the expensive upholstery. I kissed her, and she hungrily tonguefucked my rima oris. Then she went limp, murmuring,"Oh my God. Oh my fucking God."

After that we made enjoy wherever and whenever we could get away with it. In the Buick, on some discarded mattresses in the church attic, in her bedroom during those rare moments when neither her parents nor her comrade were around, in the woods behind my house, on a picnic table at a desolate residuum stop. Her skinny piffling stage would unfold, my horny little SOB would grow, and we would be at it again. Once, seated in the plunk for pew at church service, we were simply holding hands, until Annabelle maneuvered my arm onto her lap, my elbow pressure against her crotch. She moved only a little, leaving me to stimulate her with my elbow. By the meter she came, her leg were spread out, her minidress was up to her hips, and my articulatio cubiti was slipping in fast little circles on the soaked crotch of her panties. I was hard as a rock, of line, but I managed to maintain myself until after lunch—which was with my parents ! —when we took a quietly base on balls in the woods and she fished my aching cock out of my case pants and milked me to a pulsating, satisfying orgasm, my rich ovalbumin semen pumping out onto the footpath where we stood."That will aid the sens grow,"she said as she squeezed out the cobbler's last drop curtain and lifted them to her mouth.

And so the year progressed. By Christmas rift, we considered ourselves sexual experts, so well had we memorized all the warm, wet, pulsating piazza on each early's body.

Perhaps this casualness was the job. As often as I loved my intimate times with Annabelle, as lots as I loved lying with her in slickness, slimy, sweaty, satisfied afterglow, I always found myself wondering what it might be like to be in the like situation with Belinda.

And with the break from school, I didn't see Belinda any Sir Thomas More, and absence made the component part grow steadfast. It made me feel guilty to do it, but sometimes when I slid my hand into Annabelle's pantie, I wondered what it would feel like to be inside 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 throes of orgasm.

As adolescent job go, it was a Nice trouble to suffer. But it was a genuine problem.

Annabelle and I exchanged Christmas present on December 20, since her family was going to out of state for the holidays. We had the business firm to ourselves, thanks to Christmas parties that her parents and brother were attending. I gave her a leather necklace with a indigene American language motif ; it was an inexpensive gift, 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 make out into the living room in five minutes.

Phoebe minutes later I went into the living room, and there under the tree was my gift : Annabelle stark naked, her wooden leg wide unfold and facing me, with a sprig of false mistletoe fastened to her orange tree pubic haircloth with a Green River ribbon.

"You have two more present tense for me, I know,"she said seductively, tweaking one of her tit with one hired hand."One is that sweet rooster between your legs, and the former is that odorous tongue in your mouth."

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

It wasn't difficult at all to unwrap my submit. And I certainly enjoyed helping her disclose hers .
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