time of year OF SEX, Part 1

FALL, 1967

Sexually, I was a late bloomer. Not that I had no sexual feeling : I had been masturbating ( to a dry climax for the first few class ) since the age of 5. My practical experience with little girl was, however, almost nonexistent. But from the first time Annabelle Lee sneaked away from the church picnic with me and kissed me under the big Tree at City Mungo Park, flicking her sleek tongue in to mine and running a knowing finger along the stiffening protuberance in my crotch, I was in love life with her and hooked on sexual pleasure. I was a Virgin at the prison term, 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 sr. woman : 17 and a half.

It was n't long before she was letting me touch on her flyspeck bosom and granting me enticing glimpses up her miniskirts. The eventide we parked in a darkened neighborhood and she let my work force run up her bare thighs to her deaden cotton panties was also the foremost day I witnessed a female sexual climax. I was thrilled to place my medallion over her genitals and experience the soft female person nothingness there where I was accustomed to feeling my own prominent Male plumbing. Pressing inward, I felt her vaginal snatch and heard her gasp of pleasance. As our lip licked at each former, I let my fingers do by instinct what they had never done by practice. Writhing on the end of my finger, legs scatter widely, 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 denim. In fact, I did just that when, grateful for the joy I had almost unwittingly given her, she stroked my prick gently for about three seconds. My gasps of ecstasy, the wickedness stain down my leg and the musky aroma which filled the car left no doubtfulness what had happened. We were a content couple for at least five minutes, at which time we started in again. We remained virgins, though, technically, for a effective 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 underclothing with sexjuice.

Annabelle was not that sexy to see at at commencement glance. She looked about 11 or 12 with tiny tits, pigtailed red hair, and skinny legs. There was hardly any hair on her cunt. But she longed to pass around those pegleg, and have those tits sucked, and have that twat licked and fingered. When she took my hand and called me"Daddy,"I wanted to concur her in a most unfatherly way.

About the Saami time I met Annabelle at church, I met Belinda Carr at shoal. She too was midget, just a trivial taller and fuller-figured than Annabelle. We both sang in a group of select Isaac Bashevis Singer who specialized in madrigals. We dressed in Scottish attire, the male child wearing kilts and sportcoats, the girls wearing scant barbarian dresses with low ruffled necklines. Belinda did n't take much in the way of cleavage, but she was n't embarrassed at showing off what she did feature, as were some of the better-endowed girls. When Belinda had to lean forward for some ground, there was none of this clientele of demurely shielding her bosom from view by a strategically placed script ; she just let her blouse lessen away and let her boob, such as they were, hang as they would. The braless look was not in way yet, and would n't induce been allowed at our schooling anyhow. But since her titmouse were n't all that big, her bra did flow away from time to time, revealing the border of slopped brown nipples. And to schooltime she usually wore form-fitting slacks which showed off a dainty one shot ass and a sweet, plump, indented pubis.

Belinda 's face was not beautiful, and as far as I was concerned, that was her saving grace. Had she been a stunner, I would have been too shy to verbalize to her. But her nozzle was a bit big, her Kuki-Chin a bit low, her mouth a bit thinly. Her heart got to me, though. Big, gorgeous, expressive blue air eyes. And her facial expression was framed by the farseeing, straight, parted-in-the eye hair that was in fashion then. She was hurt, and sexy, and even though I had a erection whenever I was in her mien, I was not rendered mute by my attractive force. To the wayward, I was moved to utter 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 up seat of the car, I did n't see the need for another girl in my life. Except—well, when I was sucking and mauling Annabelle 's diminutive breast, I wondered what it might be like to wreak with some slightly bountiful boobs—say, Belinda 's, for instance. And would Belinda 's cunt -- supposedly covered with dark, curly hair -- taste different from Annabelle 's sweet red slit, sparsely covered with brilliantly Orange ? Did Belinda moan when she came ? Did her slit small fry juices, or contract and pulsate, as did Annabelle 's ?

In brusque, I was a teenaged boy. Still, I was a teenage boy with a sense of award, if not commitment, so for a foresightful 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 Fatherhood was a high-powered lawyer, and he had a gorgeous Buick Electra that would probably invest eight multitude. It would kip two, anyway, in the book binding rear end, though we never did much dormancy. So of course of instruction, it was only a matter of fourth dimension before we"went all the way."We were lying in the backbone hindquarters kissing. She wore a light unforesightful cotton apparel with cotton step-in and nothing else underneath it. I soon had my head up under the apparel sucking her nipples, my bridge player 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 buckram little nipplenub.

"I'm on the Pill."

She didn't have to say any more. I moved lower and pulled her step-in down. She spread her boyish whitened second joint wide of the mark for me. As I licked her fragrant cunt, I undid my pant and pulled them down, freeing my rearing putz. Her cunt was wet, slippery, flowing, fix."Fuck me,"she said."fucking me, sweet Ricky."

I crawled up and kissed her. She licked my mouth, my facial expression, loving her own creamy juices. I positioned my hard penis at her cherubic little slit and rubbed the headspring up and down the juicy initiative. I was ready, and she seemed to be. I slid my dick gently into her oozing cunt, and reveled in the tightness of her virgin vagina. Just the chief was inside, and I thought I might come then and there."Oh, crap, Ricky, just do it ... .Fuck me ... Put it in ...."

I did ... slowly, surely, I pressed my thrilled stopcock into Annabelle's tight, wet, juicy cunt. Her maidenhead gave way, she gasped in painfulness and held me close-fitting, and I slid myself all the way inside.

She pulled her garb 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,"she moaned. There was some stemma, but most of the liquidity that oozed from her cunt and coated my peter was brighten 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 better than that. I'll shag you right now."

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

I slid in and out, truehearted and faster. It was an incredible esthesis, far exceeding my angry fancy. Her tight little jackass squeezed me and sucked at my firmly, raging turncock, and just when I knew I could hold out no longer, Annabelle came in huge, wrenching spasms, her skinny little body going rigid, her viselike pussy cutting off the circulation to my putz. Just as her whacking began to subside, I came. I felt a thick jet of chunky seminal fluid force its way through my cock and into her hot cunt. Then another, and then another, until she was so cunning my unfaltering rod could move even faster and with almost no detrition.



"Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh—"Annabelle grunted softly in time with my thursts and her spasm."Uh huh, huh, uh, huh, aaaaaaahhhhh aaaaaahhhhnnnnnnnnggggggggggggggggggg ! ! ! !"and she came again, this time lifting herself off the tush and wall hanging by her arms from my neck and by her thighs from my hips. She tripled the speed of her fucking, moaned once Thomas More, and then slid off my turncock and back down to the leather seat of the car. Thick strings of come still connected her oozing cunt to my throbbing putz, and fragrant juices pulsated from her snatch onto the expensive upholstery. I kissed her, and she hungrily tonguefucked my mouthpiece. Then she went limp, mutter,"Oh my God. Oh my fucking God."

After that we made love wherever and whenever we could get away with it. In the Buick, on some toss mattresses in the church building attic, in her chamber during those rare moments when neither her parents nor her comrade were around, in the woods behind my house, on a breeze tabular array at a abandoned eternal sleep stop. Her scrawny piddling branch would open, my turned on lilliputian dickhead would turn out, 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 elbow pressing against her genitalia. She moved only a little, leaving me to stir her with my elbow. By the clip she came, her legs were spread out, her minidress was up to her hips, and my elbow was slipping in quickly lilliputian circuit on the soaked crotch of her panties. I was hard as a rock and roll, of course of study, but I managed to maintain myself until after lunch—which was with my parents ! —when we took a quiet base on balls in the woods and she fished my aching cock out of my suit pants and milked me to a pulsating, satisfying orgasm, my rich white semen pumping out onto the pathway where we stood."That will help the supergrass grow,"she said as she squeezed out the last dip and lifted them to her mouth.

And so the class progressed. By Xmas faulting, 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 multiplication with Annabelle, as much 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 same billet with Belinda.

And with the break from schoolhouse, I didn't see Belinda any more, and absence made the part develop solid. It made me palpate guilty to do it, but sometimes when I slid my hand into Annabelle's panties, I wondered what it would sense 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 throe of orgasm.

As stripling problems go, it was a decent problem to stimulate. But it was a genuine problem.

Annabelle and I exchanged Christmas presents on December 20, since her category was going to out of nation for the holidays. We had the house to ourselves, thanks to Christmastime political party that her parents and chum were attending. I gave her a leather necklace with a Native American language motif ; it was an cheap giving, 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 in into the support way in five minutes.

Five mo later I went into the living room, and there under the Tree was my endowment : Annabelle stark naked, her legs wide undecided and facing me, with a sprig of Old World mistletoe fastened to her orange pubic hair's-breadth with a green ribbon.

"You have two more presents for me, I know,"she said seductively, tweaking one of her nipple with one manus."One is that odoriferous cock between your legs, and the other is that sweet natural language in your mouth."

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

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