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Changing Channels, Chapter Two
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
CHANGING CHANNELS
Chapter Two
I started Georgia Tech and ran into an old friend of
mine from the pre-Art days. I had given up on the old
"hobby" and decided to succeed with someone where I had
failed with DeeDee.
Jed and I had known each other when we were little. He
was a quiet artist; I was the boisterous scientist. Jed told
me that the church was about to have a series of parties. We
decided to go.
There were many girls there. Two of them were a foot
taller than I and looked as if they had stepped out of
Playboy foldouts. The rest were of varying looks but they
were all new to me. One of them was named Trish. She was a
short brunette of better than average build, but huge glasses
virtually hid her face.
The parties were really glorified Sunday school classes
with pizza and soda. Trish sat next to me one evening and I
asked her at the break if I could take her home. I dated her
for about a month. Her parents and my parents became
friends. Another advantage was the fact that the crowning
gem of her home was a "game room" complete with pool table, a
stereo, and a lock. But that was of interest later.
One night as we went parking, Trish and I kissed for a
while. She started talking about the number ten. I didn't
know what she meant, so I asked her to explain. "Ten," she
said. "You know:
1. Kissing
2. French kissing
3. He gets her breasts
4. He handles her between the legs
5. She handles him between the legs
6. He masturbates her
7. She masturbates him
8. She sucks him
9. He licks her
10. Intercourse
That's ten. That's the list."
"And where are we tonight?" I asked.
"Two," she answered. So I kissed her for a while and
took her home.
The next Friday night, I took Trish to a movie. "Where
do you want to go now?" I asked.
"Let's go parking," she said.
We drove to a spot that was fairly secluded close to her
house and hopped in the back seat. We hugged and kissed for
a while with her tongue exploring my mouth and mine exploring
hers as well as her ears. She held me very tightly.
"Your list of ten?" I asked.
"Yes?"
"Where are we tonight?"
"Oh, I don't know," she said coyly. And then: "Three."
"Are you sure?" I asked.
"Yes."
Stupidly, I said: "Have you ever done this before?"
"I had a boy friend who tried," she answered honestly,
"but I didn't let him."
I kissed her deeply. Then I said: "Ready?"
"Yes."
I reached up and gently rubbed her tits from the outside
of her outfit, a shirt and pants in a Nehru sort of style
that was already out of fashion. I put one hand inside her
shirt and on her back. I kissed her again. I found the
hooks on her bra and, with less difficulty than I thought I'd
have, managed to unhook her bra. "Ready?" I asked again.
"OK," she said.
I gently moved my right hand around from where I had
unhooked her bra, and I let it some to rest on her left
titty. It was soft around a very hard interior with a large
nipple. It felt great. With a little more difficulty, I got
my other hand inside her blouse and reached for the other
breast. It felt about the same, but it didn't seem to have a
nipple. We spent two years together and that nipple never
became erect although the left one was normal and hard to my
touch. "Does that feel good?"
"Yes," she said. "Does it feel good to you?"
"Oh, yeah," I said. I would have done this all night,
but I didn't want to get in trouble with her folks, so I took
her home and visited with them for a while. We made a date
for the following Friday night. I went home immediately and
jacked off all night long.
The next Friday seemed to be a carbon copy on the
previous week, except for the fact that my questions dealt
with topic four. She was ready for that, too, so after
having massaged her tits and sucked them for about fifteen
minutes, I reached down into her pants. First, I stroked the
outside of her silk panties until I felt her legs opening,
relaxing to my touch. Then I went inside her panties, slowly
reaching down until my middle finger rested in a very wet,
very hot spot. I rubbed back and forth, and Trish spread her
legs as widely as she could in the back seat of my car. I
didn't know enough to get her to come, but I had her pussy in
my hands, and that's what mattered. And then: "I want you to
have me."
I unzipped my pants and pulled out my dick with some
difficulty. She didn't stroke it. She just held it. I
figured technique would come later. I did get her to reach
down and fondle my balls, but that was a far as we took this
evening. I ended it the same way I had done the last.
After church, that Sunday night, we went pack to her
place and my parents played bridge were her parents. Trish
and I went out to her game room and locked the door. I
opened up the closet and saw some napkins. That gave me an
idea. I found a spot on the floor out of eyeshot of all the
windows. Trish eagerly followed me. "Now," I said, "take
your hand and hold my dick hard." She unzipped my pants and
did just that. "Move your hand up and down, and when I tell
you to, put a napkin over the top and hold it tight." She
did this for about three minutes. At first, it was good, but
then she started having fun with my head, playing around,
swirling her fingers around it. When I started feeling
really good, I said: "Faster." And Trish complied. "Squeeze
it harder." And she did. And soon: "Put the napkin on it!"
She did. I shot and shot into the napkin held tightly in her
soft little hands. One napkin failed to hold it all.
"It's throbbing," she said. She seemed to really like
doing it, and five minutes later she asked to do it again. I
complied, but she was a little surprised to see me not erect
at first. It didn't take long, though. I finally had my
fantasy fulfilled. I was fondling her hard tits while she
jacked me off. It was great!
Two weeks later, Trish called me to tell me that her
parents were going out of town for the weekend. Her senile
grandmother was going to "babysit" her. I took her out to
dinner, and then we went out of the game room. This time,
she had on this sexy dress without a bra. She told me to
take off my cloths and I did. Then she took off all her
clothes. It was the first time we had been completely naked
together before. We got down on the cold floor of the game
room and decided that we were going to screw. Trish didn't
mind as long as I would agree to pull my dick out before I
shot off inside her. I could only come inside her during her
period, she said. That was fine by me. We had out pile of
napkins and were ready.
Trish spread apart her legs and I played with her until
she seemed wet enough. At that point, I got into position so
that I could get my dick into her pussy. I tried again and
again, we both did, but for some reason, things weren't
working. Her hymen was bleeding a little, but penetration
seemed impossible. "Turn around," I said. "Let's try it
from the rear. Trish followed my instructions and her round
little butt stuck into the air. It seemed a much straighter
path into her so I tried again. This time it worked. I
broke through and was inside her. "Does it hurt?" I asked.
"No," she said, "not really. It feels good. Better
than it hurts."
We both started rocking together and her pussy enveloped
my dick like four hands jacking me off together. Her
grandmother knocked on the door!
Trish dressed quickly, shooed her grandmother back
inside, came back and undressed and we started again. This
time, it was not too long until I felt like I was about to
come. I wanted to stay inside, but I pulled out. I grabbed
the napkins, and Trish helped me. Once I threw the napkins
away, he held and fondled each other for a while.
The next week was better. She was in the midst of her
period, and we were able to screw in position number one
rather than "doggy style." It wasn't too messy. I asked her
if she could feel it as my sperm shot into her, over and
over. She said she could.
Each week was something new. The same place, the same
time almost. She'd suck me. I'd eat her. The one time she
let me come in her mouth, I was more interested in her
reaction than I found it felt that much better than coming
any other way. Trish said it tasted "kind of salty."
Although we tried all sorts of positions, her favorite
was like this: I'd lie down on the hard linoleum floor of
the game room. Trish would unbuckle my belt, unzip my pants,
and pull my pants down to about my knees. She would come
equipped with petroleum jelly and napkins. She'd use her
hands to coat my dick with the jelly, and that would get me
very hard. Then she'd get completely undressed and mount me
so I could fondle her tits while she bounced up and down on
me. She always enjoyed sex, but I was never able to tell
that she experienced an orgasm.
After we'd dated for a year and a half, I gave her an
engagement ring. It wasn't a good idea. Somehow, it changed
her. Sex was still good and frequent, but she was distant.
I didn't know why and still don't, but commitment changes
people. Getting engaged was stupid, anyway. I didn't have a
full-time job and I was still teetering on the edge of
engineering school.
The day she returned my ring, I was taken aback by her
reasoning. She said that she was joining a sorority and that
she didn't think any fraternity guys would ask her for a date
were she engaged. I was shattered. I tried to talk her out
of it, but it was not to be. I asked her best friend for a
date, just for fun. Her best friend, Wendy, had the most
perfect skin that I've seen to this day. We went out a
couple of times but it never went anywhere. Her other
friend, Marj, had moved out of town by the time Trish and I
broke up, but she would have been my next logical choice.
She had gorgeous dark red hair, was very skinny, but had
large perfectly spherical breasts. But she was gone and
irretrievable.
I sunk myself in studying and changed majors from
engineering to broadcasting. And after about a month of
grieving, I decided that since I had met Trish at a church, I
might have a chance finding another girl in the same kind of
environment. I was still going to the same church group that
Trish and I had attended together. Trish was no longer
there. But I met a tall, striking blond there named Delia.
Of any woman I have ever known, Delia is, in my estimation,
the one woman who really loved me. She told me so, and I
believed her, but she had no interest in sex. Meanwhile, her
mother didn't like me and depressed me. Delia and I didn't
last very long.
During Delia, I had met Linda, a tall brunette in
nursing school. I felt I could love her. It took us a few
weeks, but I got my hands on her tits. I had been used to
Trish and her hard tits, but Linda's were soft and almost
empty feeling. Her eyes were sky blue, and we knew we wanted
to fuck, but she wouldn't do it unless it were in a hotel
for a weekend. I was unemployed at the time except for
playing for the occasional wedding. By the time, I had
raised the money, Linda had gone home to Arkansas, had gone
to some tent meeting, found "Crast," and was out of my life
forever.
I was angry. I couldn't make the pieces fit. The girl
who loved me didn't want to make love with me. The girl who
would have made love to me had put enough stipulation on the
event that I lost the opportunity. I was very bitter about
women, but I had forever lost the urge to go back to boys.
I took a job playing keyboards in a restaurant. The pay
was great, all tips bringing me in about $300 a week for
sixteen hours work. No social life and a lot of studying was
a way to plan. It was also a way to meet girls, maybe. But
I would never be unprepared in the cash department again.
I continued going to the same church meetings and a girl
that I had always thought of as a little girl was there. She
was still very slight, and she looked about thirteen, but she
had started to the same nursing school where Linda was.
Since she was in a dorm, she needed a ride, so I started
providing wheel for her. Her name was Marcie. I wasn't
really interested in Marcie; she wasn't my type. But I took
her to the park, and I gave her rides when she needed it.
One night after church, I had driven her back to the
nursing school, and we talked about things. She told me that
one of her friends in nursing school had been teaching her
how to kiss. I didn't know why at the time, but this turned
me on. My arm was around her the way it had been around
DeeDee. I was kissing her. She even kissed like DeeDee.
But she looked thirteen. She was wearing a purple blouse
with a plunging neckline, but as small as she was, it didn't
seem the bit provocative. Still, I had never handled tits
this small before, and I was interested to add them to my
experiential catalog even if I weren't interested in fucking
her.
I kissed her again. I could tell that she wasn't
expecting my hand to slide down that neckline, but it did. I
was subtle, but my hand was on that little tit quickly,
massaging that little nipple, stimulating it to erection.
"Pete?" Marcie said.
I lay her down in the front seat of my car. She was
like a limp rag. I reached around in back and skillfully
unhooked her bra. Then both hands were on her tits, flicking
away at her nipples. Her breasts themselves were like
Linda's, little substance. But something about the tiny size
turned me on. I fondled them for quite a while, but I began
to be bothered by her lack of responsiveness. Maybe she
needed more to get going. I found her zipper and unzipped
her tight little jeans. My fingers shot down into her bush,
which was not expansive. It's hair was fairly dense.
Exploring downward, her pussy was moist but not wet and gooey
like I expected. I found her clit. It was also small and
pliant so I thought if I worked it over she might get turned
on, but it didn't respond either. My middle finger wandered
around her hymen and into the hole of her crack, but nothing
seemed to get her going. It was still like making out with
Raggedy Anne.
I figured she might respond to something a little more
mutual, so I unzipped my pants, took both her hands, and put
them on my cock, which had now topped out at ten inches. I
expected this to work, but she just held it without moving.
I kept trying and failing to get her rolling. Nothing.
I sat up, cranked the car, and took her to the door of
the nursing school. She got out and looked back into the
car. She said: "When are we going to bed together?" I
guess she meant: "When are we going to fuck?" Was that what
she wanted? There was something in her lack of
responsiveness that was a major turn-off. I smiled and said
good night.
Nothing changed in our other relationship. I remained
her wheels. One night, we tried kissing again. She told me
she'd been practicing. I took her down on the seat of my car
again. "Don't undress me," she said.
"But we're just playing," I said without trying
anything.
"OK," she said. Was this all the resistance?
"Here we go again," I thought. But it was the same as
before. I did like playing with her little titties, and she
was letting me go where I wanted, but the limp rag deal
eventually blew it for me. I dropped her off and went home.
I was going into my senior year at Tech, and I went out
on an apprenticeship at a UHF station. I got tapped to do
the weather on weekends. The station was experimenting with
a foreign language sub-carrier and had hired a girl about my
age, twenty-one, to translate for it. Her name was DeJean.
She was thin lipped and plain faced and had dark blonde hair,
but she had nice tits. I asked her out.
I took her to this party, and Marcie was there. DeJean
was a good mingler and so was I. I started walking around
making the rounds and Marcie started following me. The
layout of the apartment was somewhat intriguing as its living
room, den, dining room, and kitchen were all connected. It
was easy to circulate. Noticing that Marcie was following
me, I decided to start walking around in circles to see how
far she'd go. Sure enough, she followed me. From one room
to the next, round and round - finally in the midst of the
living room, I wheeled around and she flat out ran into me.
She was embarrassed and left me alone.
I took DeJean back to her place. She lived with her
family, and we parked in her driveway. I was going to kiss
her goodnight and go home but she whispered in my ear a
cryptic, "No one will come out her and bother us." My hand
found its way inside her blouse. Her bra came loose easily
and her boobs were big with surprisingly small nipples that
did not protrude much. But she seemed to really enjoy the
fondling, so I unbuttoned her skirt and went for her pussy.
The pubic hair was sparse. She was very wet. As I played
with her clit, she reached down and grasped my zipper. After
the zipper was out of the way, she fumbled around and found
my dick. She was a bit surprised by the size, but she played
with it for quite a while. We were both hot, but we called
it an evening.
A week passed. DeJean had invited me to a party, a
birthday party for one of her friends. I told her that I was
still playing at the restaurant, but that I'd join her there.
About an hour before I left, the phone rang. It was Marcie.
"What are you doing tonight?" she asked.
"Going out."
"Why don't you ever ask me out?"
I decided to be flat out honest. "Because you lie there
like a limp rag, and you're a leech at other times. I want
an independent woman who responds to my touch." And I hung
up the phone.
I arrived at the party not long after it started and
DeJean and I started drinking. I usually didn't get drunk
when I drank, but that night I did.
DeJean and I excused ourselves and went out to my car
which was parked in a strategic location. We lost no time.
I threw up the long skirt she was wearing and took off her
panties. Her hands yanked loose my belt, unzipped my fly,
and found my cock. She wasn't expecting me to forego
foreplay, but the booze must have done that. I hit the
target on the first try, but was surprised to feel her hymen
giving way. She didn't seem the virgin type, but she had
been. She drunkenly murmured, "Not supposed to," but she was
responding to my dick, undulating her hips. From within my
drunken stupor, I realized - somehow - that I was "without
protection." I liked DeJean, but I didn't want to spend my
life with her. I stopped as she had her orgasm, and I was
just short of mine. As I stopped, I sat up, and the "over-
buzz" was on in my head. She sat up, too. And we sat there
in silence. I rolled down the window and threw up all the
remaining liquor and whatever else was down in my stomach.
DeJean sat patiently. I told her that I thought I'd better
go home. She agreed. She kissed my cheek and went back to
the party.
I drove home. I called her the next day. We saw each
other at the television station every day for the next three
weeks, but we never went out again.
After the television apprenticeship was over, I decided
to finish school before I got involved with anyone else. I
was dating a great looking redhead named Doris, but nothing
ever came of that. One afternoon, I went to the restaurant
to crank up the keyboard. They had hired a new cashier about
my age. Her name was "Brandy" Alexander. She was a Navy
brat. She had a face like a cat and was about twenty pounds
overweight, but she'd been all over the world and was
interesting, so we started dating.
I took her out one night, and we went down to the lake.
It was a great night, and we lay on her backs and looked at
the stars. I'd just graduated and had received a full
scholarship to the graduate school. We kissed for quite a
while. I let my fingers do the walking and started to play
with her tits.
"I need to tell you something," she said.
"OK, Brandy."
"I don't go out much because while we were in Spain,
some guy tried to rape me."
"I'm sorry."
"It's OK," she said, "but let's take this slow." And we
did. She was relatively flat-chested, but her ariola were
very large and dark with small hard nipples in the middle. I
made no other advances other than to massage her breasts that
night. This seemed to make her happy.
At about this time, the restaurant hired a girl named
Cindy, a real fine looking girl, a strawberry blond who
seemed to develop an immediate crush on me. Her body was
lush, but I didn't want to mess with anything that I had
going with Brandy, so I turned her down even though she as
much as told me that she wanted me.
The next few weeks, all Brandy and I did was find places
to go where I could fondle her tits. She smiled as I did it
and I could tell she was getting into it. Not far from her
house was a cemetery and we were always alone there. I had
traded my '69 Impala in on a '73 "Space" Duster which game me
about as much play room in the back as a twin bed. We were
lying down, and I was doing my usual on her. She reached
down and grabbed my dick hard. I unzipped my fly and put it
into her hand. She put both her hands on it and squeezed it
tight. For some reason, this almost made me come. "Do you
want to do it?" she asked.
"Only if you're ready," I said.
"I'm ready," she said.
She was wearing a light summer dress and no panty hose.
I pulled her panties off, and she spread her legs. I started
to play with her, but she said: "No, do it now." Her pubic
hair was unusually dense, and her pussy was nearly dry. I
tried pushing myself into her, but it was extremely
difficult. I was already so close that I couldn't control
myself, and I came all over her pubic hair.
Brandy laughed. "We'll try again sometime," she said.
But we never did. The next day, a fabulous looking little
blond name Corrie signed on as a waitress, and I did the ton
of bricks routine for her. It really hurt Brandy. She quit
the restaurant and joined the Navy like her dad.
Corrie was about five feet tall and had large tits which
when she lay on her back looked like fried eggs. After work,
we'd go to her parents house and lie on the floor of their
living room. It wasn't as private as Trish's game room, but
it was close enough. I'd play with her tits for a while, and
then eventually, I'd masturbate her. Her clit was as
excitable as any girl's I'd ever been with. She said she
didn't like me to touch it directly, but sooner or later
she'd be climaxing over and over, and I'd get past the
panties and have my fingers on her. She'd rub my dick
through my pants until I came and that seemed to turn her on.
I'd whisper to her how I longed to make her come with my
tongue, and she'd want me to masturbate her again.
We might have stayed together, but Corrie's mother
popped her cork over something or other. Her whole family
all seemed angry at me and everybody else in the world
because of it. Life in that house was just too weird and so
we split. I couldn't feel comfortable around her, so I quit
my job at the restaurant.
I decided to lay off women for a little while. Doris
and I resumed our dating, but that was just for friendship
and nothing else. I went about six months without. But
nothing could keep me from my desire to have a solid sexual
relationship with a woman. And that was to come soon.
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