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Part One of a Young Love Tale
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.
DEDICATION
The events recounted take place in a small Southern city, too
large for everyone to know what everyone else did, but small enough
that each person's reputation was common knowledge.
The time is the mid-1950's, a golden age in America.
Before Vietnam and after the Second World War, having just
concluded the "police action" in Korea. An age of sexual innocence
before the PILL, but also before AIDS. An era when teenagers searched
for identity in an ever changing world. The 60's were right around the
corner and some freedoms and values were even then being challenged.
But, for the most part, we held the same values as our parents had a
generation before.
This, then is the story of my own personal journey to
sexual manhood. My teacher was a thin, beautiful waif who had already
learned the joys of her own body and was willing to share the
knoweldge with me, a 16 year old, gangly teenager with more hormones
than sense, more desires than fulfillment.
This series is dedicated to Virginia T., the girl who first
taught me the joys of sex, lust, and love. In our few short weeks
together she showed me pleasures and sensuality I had never experienced.
Vickie, this is for you. Even after all these years I remember
as clearly as if it was yesterday your sweet kisses, your soft touch,
and your exciting aroma as we explored the depths of lust in the
backseat of a 1950 flathead Ford V8.
Solitaire
My First Experience
I remember it as if it were yesterday, even thought it took
place nearly a third of a century ago. It was my 16th birthday, and I
had just purchased a 1950 Ford with the money I earned as a caddy at
the golf club. One of my best friends decided that, in honor of
my birthday, he would introduce me to a girl "who did it", an
acquaintance of his younger brother. Unlike today's sexual freedom,
the age before "THE PILL" included two types of girls: those who
were "nice" girls , those who would pet and neck and turn your balls
blue but who wouldn't permit any touching below the waist; and
those girls "who did it", whether they actually fucked or not. The
mere act of getting a "stinky finger" was sufficient grounds to classify
her as "one of them." Since we usually double-dated in the days
before we could get our own license, if your buddy got a quick
feel, he shared the smell with all his buddies at the drive-in and the
girl got her new rep utation as "one who does."
We drove to another section of town, an area of plain wooden
houses with small yards and older cars. Parking in front of a white
clapboard house with green shutters, my friend went to the door and
talked to a small woman who answered the door. Pretty soon a
small, thin girl appeared on the stoop and my friend talked with her
for a few minutes before walking back to the car with her. In those
days, cars had a bench seat, so there was enough room for all three of
us in the front, so she sat between us as we were introduced. Her
name was (probably still is) Vickie, short for Virginia, although
she really wasn't a "Virgin Queen." She was about 5 foot 2 inches
tall and probably didn't weigh more than 90 pounds. Her long dark hair
hung in a pony tail with bangs that nearly covered her large, dark
eyes. I remember her eyes. They were soulful and sad, yet they could
sparkle and laugh when she was excited. Her breasts (which I found
out later were "A" cups) barely pok ed the front of her white blouse
and her arms were painfully thin. Her legs were hidden under the
calf-length skirt as she pulled them onto the seat and sat on them. As
we sat there, I could smell the sweet scent of her perfume mixed with
strange, lustful aromas that I later discovered were from her pussy.
I drove to the drive-in so we could celebrate my birthday.
The Ford had a column shift, and as I drove, I managed to let my
elbow press against those exciting little bulges beneath her blouse,
causing an erection that painfully inched down the leg of my jeans.
Everyone had a "suicide knob" (a knob screwed to the steering wheel
for one-handed control that, if it broke off in a sharp curve, would
cause a "suicide"), so I could let my arm rest against her chest as
I drove with one hand. I found a spot in the back and, after backing
in so we could see everyone else, we all three celebrated with
hamburgers and a milk shake.
In those days, our big excitement was "cruising the
drive-ins". There were three drive-ins and we would drive from one
to another, circling the parking lot, and then drive on to the next.
A station wagon full of girls from my high school pulled into the
lot, and my friend jumped out to go talk to them, leaving me with
Vickie. I found out that she was in the eighth grade even though she
was also 16 since she had been held back because her father was
transferred so often in the military. He had died a few years ago,
and Vickie and her mother moved here because of her family and because
she could get a job as a nurse's assistant. After about 10 minutes
of conversation, Vickie turned to me and asked me if I wanted to kiss
her. After stammering an affirmative reply, she turned on the seat so
she was facing the back and put her arms around my neck, raising her
face to be kissed.
I had had some experience in kissing since that's really all
the "nice girls" would allow, so I opened my lips and met her open
mouth with my tongue, slipping it in her mouth as she relaxed against
me. For the next three or four minutes we continued the kiss, my
arms around her slim body and her arms around my neck. Finally
Vickie pulled back, resting in my arms as she told me that I was a
good kisser. She took both her hands and reached down to grasp my
right wri st and pull my hand to her face. She kissed my palm and
told me that I had strong life lines (I later found out that her
grandmother had been a gypsy fortune teller) and that my sex line was
slightly out of kilter. She pulled my hand down to her chest,
pressing my palm against the slight rise of her left breast encased
in a bra and her blouse. She pulled my hand tighter against her and
began to rub it around in a circular motion while her lips pursed as if
in a kiss.
"Do you like that," she asked as my cock, already raging from
her closeness in the car, was now uncomfortably constricted by my
jocky shorts. I couldn't say a word, so I simply nodded. "Let's get
out of here and go to the park," she said as she closed her eyes and
pressed my palm even tighter against her breast.
"But Davis won't have any way to get home." I protested as
she turned in the seat so she could see him sitting in a car with 4
girls.
"I don't think he'll have any trouble," she said, "and
besides, since tonight is a school night, he promised my mother that
I'd be in by ten, and it's just a little after nine now."
As I started the car, she turned back around so she was facing
the dashboard, pulling my right arm around her shoulder so my fingers
could just reach the top of her bra-encased breast. In those days, with
the stick shifts instead of automatic transmissions, teenagers
quickly learned how to shift using the boy's foot on the clutch and the
girl's hands on the shift lever. She got us in first gear as I
started the car, hearing Davis' loud protestations (for show, I'm
sure) as I sped out of the parking lot, leaving rubber trails
where the powerful flathead eight over-revved the tires.
As I pulled onto the main road, I saw lights behind me as Davis
and the girls were trying to follow us. Vickie saw what was happening
and pulled my arm from her shoulders to give me complete control of
the car, although she continued to clasp my arm with her hands. The
1950 Ford was a race car disguised as a family car. Its balance
and suspension were such that it could take corners at nearly full
speed without sliding. It was only a few minutes work to completely
lose the pur suit, so I slowed back to the speed limit. As we
continued toward the park, I could see Vickie's eyes illuminated by
the street lights. Where they had been sad and soulful before, now
they sparkled with excitement.
"Can you always drive that fast?" she questioned as I continued
my leisurely pace.
"Of course!" I replied, almost indignant that she would
question my ability.
"Then let's go. I want to get to the park as fast as possible
and I want you to drive as fast as this car will go."
My speedometer read 110 miles per hour, but I doubt that it
was that accurate. Fortunately none of the city police were between
the drive-in and the park, so we arrived in record time, my tires
squealing their protests as I took the curved roads in the park at
full speed, heading for the back of the lake.
When I finally pulled off the road into the parking lot by the
lake (the spot where we all went for the submarine races), her breath
was coming in pants just as if she had run all the way there. She
twisted in the seat again and plastered her mouth on mine,
smearing her lipstick and saliva all around my mouth as she moaned
my name. My hands were loosely on her waist, so she reached down and
pulled them up to her breasts again. This time I pressed my hands into
her chest of my own accord.
I felt her teeth capture my tongue and hold it as she
mumbled something. She bit harder and mumbled again, but this
time I understood enough to reach for her buttons which I quickly undid
to her waist, sliding my hands inside to touch her bra-covered tits.
The skin above the bra was warm and soft, yielding to the pressure
of my fingertips while the bra material, made of white cotton, was
harsh and rough against my palms.
I continued to caress her breasts through the bra, and I
thought I could feel her nipples but the bra was too thick to be sure.
I slid my hands around to her back to find the hooks of the bra, but
they weren't there!
She pulled back and giggled, "It hooks in the front," as
she reached down between her breasts and unhooked the bra, letting it
hang loosely over her breasts. "Now you can touch me all over."
As I slid my hands under her bra, I could feel her hot breath
on my ear as her tongue slid wetly into its canal, wetly licking and
sucking as I caressed her breasts. I could fit each of her breasts
into the palm of a hand, and my fingers could stroke the skin around
it. Her breasts were very firm, even though small, and they didn't
yield much as I pressed. Her nipples were like hard rosebuds
poking into my hands, and they moved like reeds in the wind as my
hands continued the ir circular caresses.
"Pull them gently," she whispered into my ear as I felt her
hand slide down my chest to my groin, her hot fingers clasping my
erection through my jeans. I gently pulled on each nipple with
thumb and forefinger, but her breast was so firm that it didn't budge
very much. I squeezed a little more firmly and began to pull it,
causing her breasts to distort slightly as they formed cones of
pleasure. "Now twist them while you pull," she instructed as I
began to use my fin gertips to twist her nipples like I was tuning a
radio. "Oh God, that makes me so hot. Put your mouth on one and kiss
it," she said as she raised up on her knees, her head bumping the
headliner as she clasped my head to her chest.
Up until that moment, I had never been any further than
touching bra encased breasts and, only once before, a firm, responsive
nipple for an instant before the girl, horrified that she might
lose her reputation, pulled my hand from under her sweater. I could
feel the nipple poking at my lips, slippery from the residue of
saliva which coated my chin. Opening my lips only slightly, I felt the
hard nubbin poke inside and I covered my teeth with my lips and
grasped it gently as I heard her breath inhaled in a sharp gasp as
her hand grasped my cock tightly through the thick denim.
"Suck me! Lick me!" Her words ran together in a cadence as
they became one long litany as my teeth twisted her nipple back and
forth, pulling her nipple through my closed lips. Finally she clasped
my head tightly to her chest, nearly smothering me as she wailed and I
smelled her aroma penetrating the car.
"Oh yes, that was good. I love having my nipples sucked
and licked," she said, pushing slightly back so that her eyes were
locked on mine. I stuck out my tongue and licked the erect little
bud, feeling its strength and firmness as it bent before my
inquisitive lips.
As I continued my oral ministrations, she reached down and
pulled her skirt from under her knees, making it a tent on the seat of
my car. She pulled back and sat on her haunches, her knees spread
slightly for balance as she took my hand in both of hers, my regret
that she wasn't touching my prick anymore. She used one hand to pull
her skirt up to her waist, and I could see the white glimmer of
panties in the darkness beneath the skirt. She moved my hand to her
knee and leaned forward to kiss me sweetly on the lips as, with her
motion, my hand was forced half-way up her thigh. I could feel real
heat emanating from above as I slide my hand up her thigh until it came
in contact with her panties, now sopping with her cunt juices. I slid
my finger back and forth along the leg band of her panties, feeling
the softness of her skin, the crinklyness of her pubic hair, and the
wetness of her pussy.
As I slipped my finger under the leg opening, her hand
reclasped my cock, rubbing it somewhat ineffectively through the heavy
cloth. I felt something wonderful. Smooth and slippery. Wet and
hot. It enclosed my finger as I slid it back and forth, feeling a
real pussy for the first time ever in my life. As I slipped my whole
hand under the leg band and felt the wholeness of her pussy, the firm
smooth skin of her outer lips and the wonderful warmth and wetness
of her inner lip s, I felt her hand unzip my Levis, sliding inside
toward my cock.
I had to raise up on the seat since my position was
too uncomfortable with her hand stuffed into the already tightness of
my pants. My fingers worked back and forth within the confinements of
her cotton panties as my middle finger crooked and slid up into her
vagina, the smooth and tender walls clutching at my digit as it slid
easily into her. She gasped my name as I felt the increase in moisture
as my palm easily massaged her inner lips as my hand moved back and
forth, dri ving my finger in her pussy. Her fingers finally found my
cock and she clasped her fingers around its hardness, caressing the
tubular muscle through the cotton of my shorts.
"Use two fingers," she moaned, her voice now starting to rise
in pitch as she began to whine, begging for release. I inserted two
and then three fingers inside her, her pussy walls expanding to
accommodate the increased volume. I marveled at how smooth and
slippery she was inside. I could feel a hard ring at the end of her
cunt as my fingers poked into her cervix, but the rest of her pussy
was soft and yielding, giving and taking, sucking and clasping as I
continued my manual st imulation until, with a moan, she mashed her
mouth on mine and her body began to spasm, her hips jerking back and
forth like a jackhammer, forcing my fingers deeper and deeper into her
sweet moistness. She continued to moan my name as she came, her
body wracked with the pleasure of release.
Finally, after minutes that seemed like hours, she
collapsed, trapping my hand in her pussy as her legs gave way and she
sat on my wrist. "Oh Dam'n. That was great. I haven't cum like that
in months. But what about you? You didn't cum yet. Do you want me to
make you cum? You're going to have to push those jeans down since I
can't get to you. And next time, don't wear shorts, just let it
hang there waiting for me."
I pushed my jeans to my knees, dragging my shorts with them,
my prick now standing proudly up my stomach as she placed her cool
hand gently on its base and massaged my balls with the heel of her
hand. She put one hand on the top and began to rub my cock head while
her other hand massaged up and down the erect shaft, drawing moans from
my throat as the sensations overtook me and I erupted into her
hand, coating her fingers with my slippery white love juices and
increasing the pleasure of the masturbation many-fold. My hips
jerked involuntarily as I alternately tried to get away and then get
back for more stimulation, the cum running down into my pubic hairs and
dripping on my balls. The tickling sensation as her palm slid easily
over my cock head was too much for me, and I had to grab her wrist to
pull her hand away.
She giggled into my ear and asked me if I liked that, her
other hand, coated with the overflow from my cock, sliding up and
down easily, giving me sensations that I only felt when I masturbated in
the privacy of my bed. Her hand slipped up so she grabbed my cock
head again, squeezing so it was milked in her slippery fingers, and I
moaned again. I had never tried that, and it felt wonderful! My
erection, once starting to flag, now reversed and my cock stood
proudly at att ention as her hands continued their milking action,
now joined by the other hand on my balls, gently caressing them and
massaging them. I started frantically shoving my fingers back up
inside her warm, wet cavern, drawing a moan of pleasure as she
leaned forward again to plaster her mouth on mine.
"Oh, you're getting hard again. Would you like me to make you
cum again? Would you like me to use my hands to rub your big, strong
cock so that it spurts on my fingers again? Does this feel good,"
she questioned as her other hand, slippery with my previous cum,
slid around the head of my prick like it was oiled, the tickling
sensations nearly driving me out of my mind. My whole being was
concentrated in those seven inches of muscle as I felt her fingers
sliding easily up an d down my shaft as her other hand rubbed the
head, giving me sensations that I had never felt before.
Our hands seemed to separate from our bodies. I could feel
the wetness of her pussy increasing as I worked it to a lather, my
three fingers siding up inside her until my knuckles were encased inside
her soft inner lips. I rotated my hand, trying to give her as
much pleasure as I was receiving as her hands, slippery with the
previous orgasm, jerked up and down on my cock, both hands now
concentrating at the top of the shaft and caressing the sensitive
head until the tic kling brought me to the top for the second time,
my sperm blasting out again to cover her knowledgeable fingers.
At the same time, I felt my hand getting drenched with the
flood of juices from her cunt as she threw her head back, her eyes
closed as she gave herself over to the pleasures of her climax.
I was so inexperienced that I really thought that she had pissed on my
hand. It wasn't until I could smell it later, when I was alone, that I
realized that she had cum, letting her sweet sex juices flow as she
reached her zenith, her cunt walls clutching at my fingers. I
remember the cla sping feeling of her vaginal muscles rhythmically
squeezing my fingers as her orgasm flowed through her body.
Giggling, she leaned forward and kissed me sweetly, saying,
"Boy, you were really ready. You came a ton. I haven't felt that much
that soon ever. You must have been saving all that for me."
After we dressed, I drove her home, nearly missing her curfew,
but being rewarded with another kiss, quick feel of her tits, and a
promise of another date the next Saturday night. But that story will
have to wait until the next chapter. Needless to say, I smelled my
"stinky fingers" all the way home, but I never told anyone (especially
Davis) what had happened. In fact, since I continued to deny it, the
story got around that I fucked her on the first date, and she got
pissed unt il I convinced her that I hadn't told anyone and that I
had, in fact, denied anything at all. After she checked and found out
that I was telling the truth, she agreed to keep our Saturday date.
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