season OF SEX, Part 1

surrender, 1967

Sexually, I was a previous bloomer. Not that I had no intimate feelings : I had been masturbating ( to a dry orgasm for the first few years ) since the age of 5. My practical experience with miss was, however, almost nonexistent. But from the 1st time Annabelle Lee sneaked away from the Christian church child's play with me and kissed me under the big tree at city Park, flicking her slick spit in to mine and running a knowing finger along the stiffening bulge in my crotch, 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 stimulation was far greater than mine. I was barely seventeen ; she was an honest-to-god woman : seventeen and a half.

It was n't long before she was letting me match her midget tit and granting me enticing glimpses up her miniskirts. The eve we parked in a darkened neighbourhood and she let my mitt run up her bare thigh to her damp cotton panties was also the first gear day I witnessed a female orgasm. I was thrilled to place my palm over her fork and palpate the soft female nothingness there where I was accustomed to feeling my own prominent male person plumbing. Pressing inward, I felt her vaginal cunt and heard her gasp of pleasure. As our mouths licked at each early, I let my fingers do by instinct what they had never done by practice. Writhing on the end of my finger, legs spread wide, gasping and stiffening as her panties slid around her slippery cuntlips, she was an object of such passion and beauty that I almost came in my own jean. 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 seconds. My pant of X, the wickedness stain down my leg and the musky aroma which filled the car left no dubiousness what had happened. We were a contented couple for at least five minutes, at which time we started in again. We remained virgins, though, technically, for a secure three months more, jacking each other off, fingering each other to orgasm, or rubbing our clothed crotches together until we came, panting and moaning and filling our underwear with sexjuice.

Annabelle was not that sexy to front at at first glimpse. She looked about 11 or 12 with lilliputian knocker, pigtailed red hair, and underweight pegleg. There was hardly any haircloth on her bitch. But she longed to go around those branch, and have those knocker sucked, and have that bitch licked and fingered. When she took my deal and called me"dad,"I wanted to obtain her in a most unfatherly way.

About the same meter I met Annabelle at church, I met Belinda Carr at schoolhouse. She too was petite, just a picayune taller and fuller-figured than Annabelle. We both sang in a chemical group of prime vocalist who specialized in madrigals. We dressed in Scottish dress, the boys wearing kilts and sportcoats, the little girl wearing short bucolic dresses with low ruffled necklines. Belinda did n't have 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 girls. When Belinda had to lean forward for some intellect, there was none of this occupation of demurely shielding her bosom from view by a strategically placed paw ; she just let her blouse fall away and let her breasts, such as they were, hang as they would. The braless look was not in fashion yet, and would n't let been allowed at our school anyhow. But since her pap were n't all that big, her bra did fall away from time to time, revealing the border of crocked brown nipples. And to school she usually wore form-fitting slacks which showed off a nice round of golf ass and a sweet, plump, indented pubis.

Belinda 's human face was not beautiful, and as far as I was concerned, that was her saving state of grace. Had she been a knockout, I would have been too shy to talk to her. But her nose was a bit big, her Kuki-Chin a bit diminished, her lips a bit thin. Her center got to me, though. Big, gorgeous, expressive drear eyes. And her font was framed by the long, straight, parted-in-the midriff hairsbreadth that was in style then. She was smart, and sexy, and even though I had a hard-on whenever I was in her bearing, I was not rendered mute by my attraction. To the adverse, 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 hindquarters of the car, I did n't see the demand for another girl in my life. Except—well, when I was sucking and mauling Annabelle 's diminutive bosom, I wondered what it might be like to play with some slightly bigger boobs—say, Belinda 's, for case. And would Belinda 's cunt -- supposedly covered with sorry, curly hair -- preference different from Annabelle 's sweet red prick, sparsely covered with bright orange ? Did Belinda moan when she came ? Did her pussy squirt succus, or contract and pulsate, as did Annabelle 's ?

In unforesightful, I was a teen boy. Still, I was a teenage boy with a sense of accolade, if not commitment, so for a foresighted sentence 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 propagation, in a parked car. Annabelle 's father was a high-powered lawyer, and he had a gorgeous Buick Electra that would probably seat eight people. It would slumber two, anyway, in the second nates, though we never did a great deal quiescency. So of line, it was only a matter of time before we"went all the way."We were lying in the backward seat kissing. She wore a light short cotton plant clothes with cotton wool panties and nothing else underneath it. I soon had my fountainhead up under the dress sucking her mammilla, 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 stiff little nipplenub.

"I'm on the Pill."

She didn't have to say any more. I moved let down and pulled her panties down. She spread her boyish white thigh astray for me. As I licked her fragrant pussy, I undid my pants and pulled them down, freeing my rampant cock. Her bitch was wet, slippery, flowing, make."shtup me,"she said."Fuck me, scented Ricky."

I crawled up and kissed her. She licked my back talk, my typeface, loving her own creamy juices. I positioned my hard penis at her sweet-flavored piffling twat and rubbed the question up and down the juicy gap. I was ready, and she seemed to be. I slid my cock gently into her oozing slit, and reveled in the minginess of her Virgin vagina. Just the foreland was inside, and I thought I might come then and there."Oh, shit, Ricky, just do it ... .Fuck me ... Put it in ...."

I did ... slowly, surely, I pressed my tickle pink pecker into Annabelle's tight, wet, juicy cunt. Her hymen gave way, she gasped in pain and held me confining, 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 cool off,"she moaned. There was some blood, but to the highest degree of the liquidity that oozed from her puss and coated my cock was clear and slimy.

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

"But will you prize me in the morning ?"

"I'll do adept 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 uncivilized phantasy. Her soaked little twat squeezed me and sucked at my arduous, raging cock, and just when I knew I could hold out no longer, Annabelle came in vast, wrenching cramp, her skinny little consistency going rigid, her viselike puss cutting off the circulation to my peter. Just as her thrashing began to settle, I came. I felt a thick jet of chunky semen force its way through my rooster and into her hot snatch. Then another, and then another, until she was so slickness my pissed rod could move even faster and with almost no clash.



"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 time lifting herself off the buttocks and hanging by her subdivision from my neck and by her thighs from my hips. She tripled the speed of her fucking, moaned once more, and then slid off my cock and back down to the leather seat of the car. Thick string of seed still connected her oozing snatch to my throbbing cock, and fragrant juice pulsated from her snatch onto the expensive upholstery. I kissed her, and she hungrily tonguefucked my oral fissure. Then she went hobble, murmuring,"Oh my God. Oh my fucking God."

After that we made have it away wherever and whenever we could get away with it. In the Buick, on some throw out mattresses in the church building attic, in her sleeping room during those rarefied moments when neither her parents nor her buddy were around, in the woodwind behind my house, on a child's play tabular array at a deserted rest full stop. Her skinny small leg would spread out, my horny little prick would wax, and we would be at it again. Once, seated in the back pew at church, we were simply holding bridge player, until Annabelle maneuvered my arm onto her lap, my articulatio cubiti pressure against her genitals. She moved only a petty, leaving me to provoke her with my elbow. By the time she came, her legs were spread out, her minidress was up to her hips, and my elbow was slipping in fast little dress circle on the soaked crotch of her panties. I was hard as a rock, of course, but I managed to asseverate myself until after lunch—which was with my parents ! —when we took a quiet walk in the woods and she fished my aching cock out of my suit pants and milked me to a pulsating, satisfying sexual climax, my productive White River semen pumping out onto the pathway where we stood."That will assist the sess grow,"she said as she squeezed out the last drops and lifted them to her mouth.

And so the year progressed. By Christmas open frame, we considered ourselves sexual experts, so well had we memorized all the warm, wet, pulsating station on each other's body.

Perhaps this indecorum was the problem. As much as I loved my insinuate 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 same office with Belinda.

And with the break from schooltime, I didn't see Belinda any more, and absence made the parting raise firmer. It made me sense guilty to do it, but sometimes when I slid my handwriting into Annabelle's panties, I wondered what it would find like to be inside Belinda's. And when Annabelle came, clenching and gasping and thrusting her genitalia against mine, I wondered what Belinda would be like as she went through the throes of orgasm.

As adolescent problems go, it was a skillful trouble to possess. But it was a genuine problem.

Annabelle and I exchanged Christmas Day presents on December 20, since her menage was going to out of state for the holidays. We had the house to ourselves, thanks to Christmastime political party that her parents and blood brother were attending. I gave her a leather necklace with a aboriginal 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 do into the support way in five minutes.

V minute of arc later I went into the support way, and there under the tree was my gift : Annabelle stark naked, her legs extensive open and facing me, with a sprig of mistletoe fastened to her Orange River pubic whisker with a gullible ribbon.

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

"They are yours,"I agreed, kneeling between her legs and leaning in to kiss and thrash her fragrant Pres Young cunt."Merry Christmas."

It wasn't difficult at all to undo my lay out. And I certainly enjoyed helping her unwrap hers .