During my junior year in high school, I had the opportunity to join a club
called the International Band and Folkdances. The members of this group were all
flaky. I took it up because of (photo omitted) loneliness, seeking female
companionship. My partner, which I chose, was the best looking girl there, good
looking, but a little bit messed up in the head. Candice (I called her Candy)
was a sophomore at Denver Senior High. She stood about five foot two, a trifle
short by comparison to most gals her age, but what she lost in height she made
up for in personal endowments. Candy had jet black hair shoulder length worn
with a slight outward sweeping curl. Her hair shone, the way you would expect a
Veronica or Sophia's hair would shine - not a fine texture, but thick hair with
weight to it. Framed in that hair was a cherubic face with high prominent
cheekbones permanently blushed. Ample out-turned lips made sure you were aware
that she was a mature young woman and not a short sophomore girl. Her eyes had a
deep fathomless quality behind the black pupils. A guy could lose himself trying
to find her soul beneath those eyes. As the reader is aware off by now, you note
that I prefer my women on the slightly thinner side. What possessed me to attach
myself to Candy? Her stature and the unmatched, if somewhat dumpy clothing she
wore, implied the type of body that was moulded into the clothing. You know, the
type that looks absolutely voluptuous dressed, but expands to a size 48 tub of
lard upon removal of the tight panty-hose and girdle. Candy was anything but
that. What you saw clothed was the same shape undressed. There were no elastic
supports on this lady; she didn't need them and they surely would have been a
waste of time. Candice was a member of the Church of Scientology - an
organization, that if I understand everything Candice told me, believes the only
form of government is anarchy. They have an aggressive recruiting program.
saying they can take care of the worlds problems through mind control and
modification; and that it would only cost $625 for the first class. Sounded like
mind control to me, alright. My friend, Rick, and I tried to talk her out of the
organization, but our efforts never really worked until five years later when
she saw the light of our reasoning. Pathetic as her membership in this
organization was, it did have some beneficial spin-offs for me. For one, Candice
had moved away from her legal guardians because the church said so. She lived in
a house by herself. Two; Scientology preaches free love. This affected her way
of looking at life and her sexual relationships; though she was afraid (as any
normal teenage girl growing up would be), she didn't have parental guidance and
because of the church's meddling with her mind she didn't have the normal
constraints of society. Her guardians were flakier than her. My most enduring
memory of Candy is of our Junior Prom night. Though Candice was a year younger
than me, I flouted tradition and asked her to be my date at the prom. I showed
up at her house with a corsage. She wore the most gorgeous red velvet dress,
adding a certain flair of sensuousness to the air. I wore the obligatory black
tuxedo. There is not much to say of the actual prom, other than ignoring girls
in my class with an outsider, getting our picture taken, and some very close
dancing. After the prom, we when to the IHOP near the Civic Center for breakfast
with her guardians. Candice, though normally avoiding contact with her
guardians, had invited them to meet me and I knew my meeting and making a good
impression was very important to Candice. She wanted to show and prove to them
that she wasn't a slut, as they seemed to impress upon her, but just a normal
teenage girl trying to grow up. They were very direct in their questioning and
asked if I'd been fucking their daughter and if I had enjoyed it. Upon my
negative nod, her step-father told me bluntly that I ought to get some saying he
ought to know, he's had her many times. Even his new wife was no moral help.
She's lecherously eyeing my crotch. I tried my best to maintain my composure,
but they soon had me to a quivering mass of jelly, embarrassed and fidgeting to
get out of there. We finally said our goodbyes, without the convictions behind
them; even declining a much needed ride north on a cold and frigid night.
Instead, we availed ourselves of a Farwest cab. The ride to her place is quiet;
uneventful. She is simmering I feel. I can understand why. She has been
embarrassed and made to feel worse than a two-bit whore in front of a date she
has just presented to uphold her respectability. I don't know the whole story;
just what she has been through in her home life, but I think her running away
and becoming hooked up with the scientologists is somehow related to the
treatment she has gotten at home. She has tried to mend fences and as I was
about to find out, she was going to tear those fences down forever, to totally
alienate herself from her family. I could feel to raw hatred. I also took note
that I was beginning to assume some of this heat myself. I was present at this
despicable scene. However, I never expected that I would be her instrument of
revenge, albeit, an unknown and un-presented instrument. We held hands in the
cab, but I was holding a cold lifeless hand - Candice' energies were directed
elsewhere; she was debating some fundamental course of action; and I was
available. Five dollars and thirty€five cents later we pulled up the darkened
street on upper View Ridge, pulling to the curb in front of her house. Candice
opens her side before I can get out and huffs off towards the steep, unpainted
wooden steps up to the front porch. "Do you want me to wait for you?", asks the
hack. "No, I don't suppose so. I can catch the bus home from here." And the
cabbie drives off with a knowing conspiratorial smile on his face. No wonder no
one likes cabbies. I rush up beside her fumbling for her keys in her clutch,
difficult to find anything under the burned out porch light. I can't think of
much to say to her. It has been a spoiled night for me. Even more so for her. "I
enjoyed myself tonight, Candy. Really, I did.", but I don't sound all that
convincing to her and she knows it. She finally locates her keys and clutching
them in frustration, turns to face me, the rage still there, but softened by
glistening eyes, ready to let forth a torrent should her guard ever relax so
much as a hairbreadth. "I tried so much to be normal, to show them I was good
and proper and respectable. I've lived with that asshole for so long that I
don't know what's proper and right anymore. She pauses to stifle a sniffle with
the back of her hand; I don't know what to say. "I tried to get you as mine to
be mine, and not what they wanted. I tried to make it a good night for us but I
failed. I'm sorry" the lone tear in the corner of her eye welling up, about to
breach the dike. "I'm not going to worry about your parents. We tried, but after
all, I went out with you and you're the one I'm trying to impress, not you're
parents. I took you to the prom because I like you, and you were marvellous. Did
you see how many turned their heads to see you? Don't put yourself down." I
grasp her by the shoulders trying to emphasize my point, but I see doubt and
anger still there. "Is there anything I can do before I go home, honey?" I say
softly. I regret having to leave her in this state, but the last bus of the
night will be going by in about fifteen minutes and I'll have the rush the six
blocks to catch it. I don't look forward to a cold, damp and dismal walk home at
three in the morning. "Stay with me tonight. Stay and keep me company. I need
someone around me now; I'm all alone in the world now - don't have anybody to
call on." I'd never stayed out all night; at least not to the point, that after
a night of carousing with the guys, I wouldn't be back in my own bed at home by
five or six in the morning. To stay with a woman all night, with the
implications that you just can't get up at six and sneak home (after all, that
wouldn't be proper); but must stay through the next morning, and probably the
better part of the next afternoon as well - well I don't know. I wanted to, but
my responsibilities to home said this was a no€no; jumping into the frying pan
on the other burner when they haven't even lit the fire under you yet. You know
what they say about fools would tread where they shouldn't. Well I certainly
wasn't an angel. Problem was, Candy was vulnerable. Vulnerable to herself (the
altruism in me) and vulnerable to me (the devil may care in me). I let myself be
led in, hook, line and sinker and onto the living room sofa. Candy wasn't rich
and the surroundings reflected the frugalness of her existence. Furnished early
college-freshman style with shelves made of painted cinder blocks and pine
planks; K-mart special stereo and lots of bean bag chairs scattered around the
dimly lit room. The sofa I was sitting on had seen many a year in other living
rooms before ending up here. But the place was clean I could see; something to
be proud of given the circumstances. I knew Candy was a proud woman. It was with
a surprise that I recognized the ziplock, rolled baggie with shredded wheat
inside for what it was, and for the bottle of not quite cold Cold Duck sparkling
wine Candy brought out from the kitchen, shutting off the lights behind her. She
busies herself rolling a deft pinwheel joint while I watch in fascination; so, I
get up to play some music on the stereo. Some records we have in common,
something light and befitting this mood, I put on some Mystic Moods and join her
in an oversized bean bag chair and take the offered joint, inhaling deeply and
holding as I feel the thick acrid smoke clear from my lungs into my bloodstream.
I am not a frequent user of weed. On the few occasions I've partaken (all since
moving to here), I've noticed that it strikes me very fast and potently. So fast
and effectively that I avoid it except under the most secure and familiar of
circumstances. I have a very thin ego-shell and worry about exposing the real
me. As they say, knowledge of the enemy is the most potent weapon. It is perhaps
a tribute to Candy that I did accept that night. We had never toked together
before - I wasn't even aware she did, nor she, I. But I felt very comfortable
here with her; alone, just the two of us, behind a securely locked door and no
wild parties to arouse the ire of the neighbours. Too, Candy's psyche was an
open wound, the ragged edges of her needs requiring attention. I couldn't
empathize with her needs unless I dropped my barriers to show that I was just as
vulnerable. I accepted, took a guzzle of Cold Duck and settled back into the
bean bag with Candy criss-cross over my stomach, my drawn up knees supporting
her back. I let the beautiful sounds of a rainstorm accompanied to the piano
recital of Sleepy Shores waft over and through my senses. Like I said, I've
always enjoyed the Mystic Moods orchestra with its mixing of natural occurrences
(like rain) with mood setting music. The mood was set. We shared a second joint
between us, this one more conventionally rolled with a hefty helping of grass.
This hog of the tokes, a veritable Columbian Cigar was meant to reinforce and
amplify for a longer period of time the high we got from the pinwheel at the
'snap of a switch'. It was heady, cloying smoke that we tunnelled into each
other. The method of 'tunnelling' is an art in the MJ culture. It means to take
to lit joint backwards into your mouth, while your partner takes the other end,
and to blow the THC laden smoke forcibly into the lungs of your partner. Doing
it this way produces less carbonized burn products, release of greater amounts
of the volatile oils of THC, and more volume of smoke in the lungs than your
partner can reasonably expect to draw under his or her own power. The effect is
dynamite. The high produced is higher, more sense distorting, and longer lasting
than toking three to four times the regular way. I was glad when we finally
finished that joint. I wanted to enjoy this floating consciousness. My hand
holding my glass of wine in Candy's lap was frozen and I stared at it for the
longest time, trying to make the glass move. I didn't want a drink, I just
wanted that obstinate glass to move. Finally I manage to tilt the glass enough
but all I managed was slopping half the wine into her lap. I felt the moisture
over my hand, wet under where her beautiful dress collected a puddle of slowly
warming vin a' rouge. We both giggled at my feeble attempts as I try to slurp
the spilled wine from her lap. "Come on Larry. Let me change out of this dress
into clothes you can make a mess out of without destroying", Cathy says as she
climbs unsteadily to her feet and toddles off to the bedroom. I make myself busy
finding some more mood music for the player and plop back down into my now
comfortable bean bag. It has a well-worn indent where my body slides right back
into. Cathy returns dressed in now familiar jeans and cream-colored blouse and
plops right back into her comfortable niche, facing me, back propped against my
knees, legs straight out beside me. I run my hand lightly up the inside of her
legs and back a couple of times, bringing my up-turned palm to a rest atop the
pubic arch, the back of my hand feeling the warmth beneath. Cathy rests her own
glass, atop my palm, hands stapled around the stem. I stare across the arms
length interval between us. My head is swirling as I try to focus on myself,
dressed in faded jeans and creamy-white blouse. I feel the heat exuding from my
crotch. I feel sensuous, an ache between my legs that cries for something, a
need, a lacking. Lifting my hand, I undo one of the buttons to my blouse,
reaching under to feel the firmness of each breast, nipples hard and painfully
sensitive. Why aren't I wearing my bra? I undo a few more buttons and let the
warm evening air circulate around my taut skin, each small flurry of breeze
sending shivers up the inner thighs. I'm intrigued as I study my breast from a
distance, one in each palm. They don't exactly weigh the same. The one on the
left, which is my right, is heavier, but the same size, it seems. Candy is doing
something between my legs and it feels exciting. Maybe I could tell the
difference between tittles if I tasted them, so I reach forward, tittles still
in hand and give a 'popsicle-like' suck, taking in each nipple and letting it
slide out over my tongue, grasping the fore-end of each nipple lightly between
my teeth before they wetly pop free again. Slightly salty; not bad! Something is
definitely going on between my legs, I feel it as if I had an extension there,
stuck out in the cold being slowly pulled up and down. I feel someone's fingers
wrapped around me, but I have no dick, I have a vagina...that's silly, and I
reach down to feel my pussy, spreading my legs just so wide to accompany my
hand. There is nothing there; but I feel the hand going up and down. I undo the
button to my jeans, sliding the brass zipper down. With both hands, I yank my
jeans and panties down to my ankles with one fluid pull towards me. Reaching out
a finger, I run it up the lips to emerge wet and slick as well-oiled machinery.
Absent-mindedly sucking my finger dry, I suddenly feel the urge for something to
eat. Eat! Isn't that what men do to women and vice versa? I wonder what I taste
like and I bury my head between my pussy voraciously attacking with tongue and
teeth the soft tender meat there. "Easy Larry! I'm not a piece of hamburger to
chew on. Tenderly and slowly. Please", cries Cathy and I realize where I am all
of a sudden and taper of my attack. I reclaim my identity and body as I
delightedly feel a moist warm cavern descend over my cock, taking me to the
base, where lips tightly seal and Cathy begins to draw up, her tongue rolling
acrobatically over my shaft. I groan with pleasure. Rolling Cathy atop me in one
fluid, if awkward, motion, I run my tongue around the inside of her pussy taking
in the animal smell of musk. I pass my tongue rapidly, butterfly style , slowing
down now and then to feel the texture with my tongue. I can feel her shudders as
she alternately tightens and relaxes her thigh muscles slapping against my
trapped head like a sledgehammer. Candy's clitoris is an ample piece of dark red
flaccid meat, triangular in shape, with a tumescent shaft rising along the lower
edge; the actual love bud; packed with thousands upon thousands of sensitive
nerve endings. It is about three€quarters to an inch long, enough to protrude
from the outer labia when those lips are closed. The sides are soft and smooth,
like the walls of her pussy lips. No patterns in this skin as elsewhere on the
body. No one will ever finger-print a pussy. Candy's cocksucking has progressed
to a steady up and down pattern with a new twist to it. As she goes down, her
lips just barely skimming the skin, tongue dancing whirlpools over the head and
retreating back into her mouth to stay over the pee-hole, she rotates her mouth
about ninety degrees, only to rotate back in the other direction as she draws my
cock up with her now tight lips. Each time her lips close over the head on the
up-stroke, she darts the pointed tip of her tongue sharply into the pee-hole
eliciting a pleasurable tingle of sharp pain. The lip-tight seal is complete as
she clears the head taking and swallowing the lubricating saliva intermixed with
the first tentative drops of seminal fluid. Each ever-increasing downstroke
brings the head closer to the glottis, the underside of my cockhead feeling the
texture, every rough taste bud coating the surface, contributing a little taste
of me to each; sweet, sour, bitter, or salty bud tasting cock. I can by God,
feel the bony ridge of the roof of her mouth covered by smooth mucus membranes.
My face is wet; covered with salty-thick pussy juice. I open my mouth as wide as
I can planting it atop lips and clitoris both, trying to suck as much of her in
as possible, vacuuming the juice down over my tongue for flavour and down my
throat for sustenance. While my lips hold her pussy captive, my tongue washes
and licks every nook and cranny. I suck as hard as I can over the clit, drawing
as much blood to the surface as possible, heightening her sensations. Licking
both thumb and forefinger of my free hand, I slowly guide one each into her anus
and vagina; ever so slowly so as not to cause harm until her natural lubrication
takes over. I can only penetrate a half inch of so into her anus, but it is
enough to rouse a wide more feral beast in her. My thumb is in her vagina to the
hilt keeping time to the mouth-sucking she is giving me. Her spasms have already
tried to pinch it free from my hand. White mucus is forming a ring about the
base of my captured thumb. . . a waxy dike around her vaginal mouth. . . and I
tongue around it to get a taste of her inner joy. Tart, almost like alum. So
much different than the clear pre-nuptial lubricant. I savour it for the fervour
of the moment. All my senses are playing a part in this. Cathy is going wild on
my manhood now; attempting to swallow me whole, if possible. She no longer
travels the entire length of my cock, instead leaving the furthest down she's
gotten in her throat, relaxing her lips, her tongue lying flat and quiet. Saliva
drips and slides from her mouth as she makes small up and down jabbing motions
with her head, my cockhead bending slightly as it rounds the downward turn in
her throat at the base of her tongue. I can feel the barrier each time my cock
softly runs into her glottal muscle, partially open and forced more each time
she slightly withdraws an eighth inch and forward a quarter. I place my other
hand atop her head reinforcing and adding my own desired thrust up with my cock.
Finally I feel her throat muscle relax and with a vicious upward thrust with my
cock and a violent downward push of her head, her lips slam and mash into the
hairs at the base of my dick. Her lips nibble and stretch to the loose skin of
my scrotum. . .as if she wants to suck my balls up into her mouth as well. She
tightens her lips and mouth, starting a sideways sweeping motion with her
flattened tongue. The smooth muscle lining the oesophagus has started its own
milking action, trying to swallow the head of my cock protruding through the
glottis. I can feel every action from Candy's voluntary sucking in her mouth to
the heavenly automatic milking in her throat. I feel the full feeling spreading
like acid up the tube of my cock. My dick begins to throb in her mouth, so
tightly and irrevocably locked onto me. I pull my thumb free of her hole and jab
my tongue into her vagina as far as it will go during a relaxation of the
spasms; only to be locked onto as her vaginal muscles begin their rhythmic
contractions around the tip of my tongue. I'm barely able to breathe, my nose is
squashed against her buttocks. I play my fingers in fast motion across her clit
as first one wave, and then another crest over my tongue, being torn out by the
roots. I can't stand it so I begin rapid and violent thrusting motions with my
hips raising them fast and hard her facet only to have her head, locked in place
and milking away, bob up and down with my thrust. "My God. I'm coming! Suck me,
baby. Suck me dry, uh!!!", I shudder between clenched teeth as a hot and full
load of semen explodes free, burning the length of the shaft as it spurts
upward. "Take all of me, every last fucking drop baby!!!" With each ecstatic
spurt, I feel her tongue draw backward to accommodate her drinking reflex,
throat muscle doubling the rate of milking. One spurt, two, three, four, five,
six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve electric jolts; and each a complete
tube emptying. Finally the jetting ends and I relax my death's grip in her jet
black hair allowing my cock-head to slip free of her oesophagus. Her tongue is
slippery and slick with my semen as she begins a gentle milking action, the tip
of her tongue running up the underside to milk every last drop from my relaxed
penis and down her throat. I feel myself going soft in her mouth, her bruised
lips still sucking the last drops of cum from my cock. I drop back exhausted as
she rolls off me. My face is covered with her sticky love juices drying
masque-like, immobilizing the skin. My eyes itch from intrusions of alkaline
juices smelling for all the world as if I were still between her legs sucking
away. I have only to run my tongue through my moustache to relive the tense
arousal of the last half hour. Candy is grinning widely at me, a drool of semen
marring her pixie features from lips to chin. She reaches down and pulls draped
slacks from her ankles then removes her sweat-drenched blouse stretching
languorously in her aroused nakedness. "Let's go at it again", she says, helping
me to remove the rest of my clothes, discarding them carelessly to the side;
then taking my soft cock again into her mouth, slowly rolling her tongue in a
massage designed to cleanse it of cum and work it to hardness again. At first,
her tongue-work is just an irritant to my sensitive and sated cock; but Candy
keeps up the tongue massage and adds a sucking rolling vacuum that soon has me
feeling renewed desire and I feel myself growing behind her teeth again. After
five or six minutes of her tender ministrations I am rock-hard and ready to go
again, but Candy stops her work at this point and straddles me, lowering her
pussy directly atop my cock. Ever so slowly she allows me to enter her,
controlling her down movements alternating with small up jabs to spread the
lubrication and accommodate my throbbing dick. The warmth of her vagina is
almost enough to send me off; but I control my impulses and concentrate on the
ceiling. When I'm buried to the hilt, Candy tucks her feet behind her and hands
upon my chest starts a rhythmic up and down crescendo of slow, sliding, and
sensuous fucks that hold me just at the borderline as I feel the texture inside
her with my cock. Up...Down...Up...Down. My cock is wet with her juices and is
frigid cold when she is up, only the head in the firebox. Every time she
descends she sends shivers through me as cold dick and hot vagina co-mingle. Her
juices run through my forest and over my balls, cooling in the night air. The
evaporation causes my sac to tighten and pull my balls in close; and the juices
continue, flowing across the peritoneum and across my asshole and onto the slick
plastic of the bean bag. Her vagina is not so tight now; fully oiled. I feel a
bead of cum work its' way towards the tip, tingling and stinging a little as a
prelude to what will soon happen. My prostate cannot long hold back this
pressure building. I deposit this lone drop of cum on her cervix as I bump into
it on one of her down strokes. Hands on her hips, I guide her more forcibly onto
my cock; deeper and faster pushing against her cervix until she stretches the
length to give me a bottomless pit to drive into. Candy picks up the increasing
tempo her vaginal muscles twitching now and then to grasp my cock and
momentarily stop its' flight. Abruptly, Candy stops, vagina tightened around my
almost jetting cock. My climax is stopped midstream! I'm buried to the hilt
between her hips trying to grind in and find release. I feel a mini-climax as I
spasm lightly into her in empty throbs; feeling the pleasure of coming; but not
letting loose my load and staying constantly hard. "Feel good, Larry?" she asks
all too knowingly. She has read me like a book and knows when to cut-off or slow
down stimulation. As I nod my head in agreement, she draws her knees, at my
sides, closer together, raising her pussy a little off my pelvis. With one hand,
she reaches behind her and grasps my sac, fondling my balls roughly. Her other
hand goes to the base of my cock and fingers pinch the urethra tightly closed.
This quickly dampens my climax but keeps me hard inside her. Up and down her
pussy goes. Her vaginal muscles tighten clamp-like around my cock each time she
withdraws, milking my penis. I come full-blown only to throb against her finger
cutting off exit at the bottom of my cock. Nowhere to go, it resides and we work
it up again. I must have release, but each time I come, she cuts it off and
continues the thrusting. My cock is painful; sore from rubbing in a tight pussy,
squeezed at the base. Again I cum and she clamps her fingers at the base but I
cannot be denied. I feel a full-blown climax and feel the jetting and
pulsations; but I also feel a sharp pain inside me and I realize that I have cum
inside myself. I have shunted the semen up my urethra and into my bladder.
Candy's pressure on my cock has kept it hard and thought I am sated I continue
to thrust into her as I feel her build towards a massive climax. Candy has
abandoned all finesse now and slams her pussy hard and fast onto my pole in
earnest desire. I slam upwards with each down stroke and her vagina clamps hard
around my sore cock as she begins a rhythmic shudder and collapses atop me. We
lay there like this for some time, cuddling each other and kissing deeply, my
half-limp cock inside her spread legs. We roll over so that I am on top and
tongues still entwined, I slow-fuck her in a loving fashion designed to be felt
with the romantic senses and prolonged. I am hard again but feel no immediacy to
ram inside her; rather I feel like I'd like to prolong this all night. Candy
responds by sensuously rolling her hips into mine. My hands roam her body
feeling the texture and goose-bumps of her skin in the night air. I lift my
chest to cup her tits and massage them ever so slowly as her tongue digs deeper
into my mouth. I taste her saliva and we share our juices. Our tongues fuck each
others throats, dancing tip-to-tip. Candy wraps her legs around my torso,
hooking ankles together. In and out like a slow, hot knife into butter. My cock
is battered and bruised but is still up to the renewed sensations of a slow
fuck; the tension of coming there, but the ability to hold it back and ride the
crest much as a surfer rides the crest of a large wave. I do not want to come
crashing down just yet. "Does it feel good, Candy?" "Oh, God...yes!" she says.
"I want to keep this up forever." "Me too. I've felt like coming a hundred
times. No one told me going slowly could be like this...Uh...Uh...Jesus! it
feels so nice inside you! I want to come." I pant into her ear. Just then, the
phone rings. God, what an incessant distraction. Candy is startled and contracts
her vagina. I lose all control and begin to spasm into her spurting hot cum as I
bury my cock deep into her convulsing pussy. Candy scrapes her fingers across my
back as she bucks into me taking all of my cock and more. We lay silently,
panting heavy and exhausted while the phone continues to ring in the background.
Finally, laughing together she reaches for the phone on the table beside us, our
bodies still locked together. I listen to her trying to catch her breath and
answer the phone at the same time. "Hello" "Oh, hi...No, I wasn't doing anything
special. Just watching TV... "No. I had to run from the kitchen. I'm alright...
"I'd rather not, Lisa. I've got company... "Come on. What's wrong?... "Okay. You
can come over...Ya. I'm sorry to hear that too. Come on over and we'll talk.
Larry's here... "Okay and I'll see you in awhile...Bye." and she replaced the
handset. "I'm sorry, Larry. I do want to be alone with you. That was Lisa and
she's got some problems she wants to talk about...I guess our fun is over for
the night." "Okay sweets. Let's get presentable and straighten up this place
before she arrives. What time is it?" "About four AM. Where's my panties?" "Over
there...beside the wine bottle." I give her a quick peck on the lips and start
pulling on my clothes. Lisa is a pert little girl; a sophomore at Denver. I'd
seen her at school but paid scant attention other than fleeting appraisals of
her sexy lines. Candy knew her well and they often were seen talking together.
We had turned on the TV on to support our contention of our activities and had
just about covered all other tracks of our loving when the doorbell rang. It was
Lisa, all bundled up against the cold night. Candy let her in and I noticed that
she wobbled at little unsteadily. Under that bulky coat she was clad in a
stunning mini-dress that emphasized her shapely legs and thighs and cut low
across the bodice giving ample evidence of her swelling cleavage that this was
not a girl, but a growing woman. Candy navigated her to the couch and plopped
her down on it. Lisa landed with a bounce and settled back, legs separated. I
could see hints of her panties from my vantage on the bean-bag on the floor in
front of her. I absently rubbed my cock through my pants in sexual desire. Lisa
noticed me a moment later and said "Hi, Larry", as if I were part of the
furniture. She was preoccupied with a problem, so I said hello and leaned back
to watch an insane movie about werewolves on channel 13. Watching TV from the
position I was in was difficult because of the angle, so I slowly edged my way
over towards the sofa, resting my back against it, still sitting on the floor
besides Lisa's legs. Candy came over and sat down next to me and I draped my arm
over her shoulders. Lisa's legs vibrated a warmth I could feel against my arm
and shoulder, and I sneaked glances at them. After awhile, Candy rolled another
joint, lit it, and passed it around. I took a heavy toke and turned around
between Lisa's legs, one hand on a knee and offered her the joint. She took it
and sucked greedily, then passed it back while I stared hungrily up her short
dress. We finished off two more joints and Candy turned the record player back
on. The TV was still on and we where getting the giggles providing dialogue to
the antics of the silent screen. Lisa slid off the sofa into a sitting position
beside me, in the process, accidentally hiking her already short skirt past her
crotch. I lit another joint and offered Candy the first drag but she was in
bliss Ville against my shoulder, so I turned to Lisa. While she was pulling on
the joint and holding her breath, I traced my fingernails up and down the
insides of her thighs. Ouuu, my cock was beginning to tingle again. She looked
at me impishly and slightly parted her thighs to give me some more room.
Emboldened, I ran my palm up her thighs and cupped her panties crotch. I could
feel the heat and dampness of her womanhood as I rubbed trying to slip a finger
under the elastic and into her pussy. After a laidback moment, Lisa removed my
hand to lower down her thigh, near the knees. The shifting awoke Candy. "How
long have I been asleep?" she asked. "Only a few minutes", I said. "Let's play a
game or something." "Okay", said Candy. "How about poker? I've got a deck of
cards around here somewhere." and she goes off to find them, returning a moment
later with a battered deck. "I've seen you around school", says Lisa as we
spread out in a circle on the carpet. "I didn't know you knew Candy." "We've
been seeing each other for a few months now." "Yah, Larry and I are in the Folk
Dancers together. That's where we met", says Candy. "He's real nice...sexy", she
says with a conspiratorial wink at Lisa. "You're not too bad, either" I retort
back at Candy. "For that matter, you have good-looking girlfriends, Candy. I
like Lisa!" I said, admiring Lisa's female form from the short distance
separating us. "Behave yourself, you chauvinistic pig. You've had enough for one
night" "Enough what, Candy. Lisa interrupted the best part." Lisa is silent
throughout this exchange but she is embarrassed and fidgeting beside us. I busy
myself rolling a few more joints, lighting one and passing it to Lisa. Pretty
soon we are all feeling good and giggling away, not really paying much attention
to the poker game. I pour some more wine and pass it to Candy and Lisa snatching
a lingering kiss off of Lisa's lips as my free hand runs up her thigh. "Let's
have some fun. Okay?", I say to the thick air around us. The girls are all for
it and soon we are into a rip-roaring game of strip poker. Since I cannot keep
my attention under the weed's influence and these sexy women, I am not doing too
well at this game and am soon down to only my briefs left. The girls aren't
doing too well either. Candy has her bra and panties left on and Lisa is down to
her silken panties; her small firm tittles jutting firmly into the smoke-filled
room. We are having fun though, giggling and pawing each other. I am hard and
wanting some action. My dick is hard and tent-like under my briefs and I play
with it through the sweaty cloth. "Let's make the game more daring", volunteers
Candy. "How about if the winner of each hand gets to tell the losers what to do
and they have to do it. Okay?" "Anything?" asks Lisa in mild shock though I
don't know why because we all are pretty well brazen and sinful right now.
"Sure! Anything the winner wants the other two to do...just as long as it's not
dangerous or sick. Okay Larry?" "I agree. It'll make it more interesting and
fun...We are having fun, aren't we?" No one really answers this question so to
get things started I pull my briefs off and toss them into the corner. My pole
sticks ramrod straight up and I slowly jerk it up and down revelling in the
tingly feeling. "Come on girls, off with the rest of your clothes and start out
on even ground with me...Come on Lisa. Don't be embarrassed. Hell, you're half
naked now and after all, you are among friends. What ever happens between us
tonight is after all among friends. Let your inhibitions go and just enjoy your
feelings. Be natural." Lisa slowly peels her panties over her hips and down,
finally tossing them aside as she tightly clamps her legs together in mild
shyness. We begin the game. The first hand dealt I received a pair of fours and
discarded two for two more useless cards. Lisa won with a pair off nines and
could barely contain herself in glee and relief. "Come on Lisa. What do you want
us to do." "Well. I don't know...Anything, right?...Larry, kiss Candy first and
then me. A real deep down and passionate kiss with your hands behind your back."
Now this was more like it. Not exactly what I had in mind, but a start. I move
over to Candy. "Come on lover. I'm waiting," says Candy as our lips meet and my
tongue probes deep. After an interminable amount of time Lisa slaps me on the
rear end and says, "Uh uh, Larry. My turn now." I scoot over beside Lisa and
kiss her deeply, my arms embracing her. Lisa breaks and tells me to put my hands
behind my back and I do so. The kiss is deep, our tongues fighting each other
for domination. All of a sudden, Lisa's hand is upon my cock, gripping it
tightly and pumping up and down. Each time I attempt to bring my arms around
front she firmly pushes them back behind my back. I lean forward against her and
she tumbles backward with me atop her naked form. Our lips are still mashed
against each other and she loses her grip on my dick. God I need her. With my
legs, I force hers apart and wheedle my cock up against the opening of her pussy
and with one savage thrust enter her. I start a gentle yet full thrusting into
her love box. Just as I feel the juices start to build up for eruption, Candys
fingers grab my balls and twist painfully. "No you don't lover. You were just
told to kiss her. Now out and back to your corner." Candy keeps the pressure on
my sac until I pull all the way out and away. My cock is aching for love. All
Lisa can do as she sits up is moan. The next hand has me with a pair of queens,
ace high. I discard the other two cards and come up with another queen and when
we show our cards I'm the winner. I chuckle to myself as I decide what
punishment these two girls deserve for stopping me twice tonight. A devious and
sexy plan evolves... "Since you two are close friends I want you to make love
before me." "No. Come on Larry", say Candy. "You can't be serious!" she says in
astonishment. Lisa doesn't look to happy either though her head is hung low. "I
hear it happens all the time between close girlfriends; meeting at slumber
parties to dive between each others legs and lick each other up a frenzy."
"You've done it before, haven't you Lisa?" I ask point blank. She doesn't answer
so I continue, "You girls agreed to do whatever the winner wanted and I want to
watch the two of you do it. Please!" I look first with dejected eyes from Lisa
to Candy acting like an innocent little boy in front of his momma. A few more
pleases and more cajoling and Lisa starts to move towards Candy as I move over
to kiss Candy to take her mind off what is to happen. Lisa starts by lightly
kissing her way along Candy's thighs; light tracery along the insides. I can
feel Candy respond in my arms so I break loose and sit back to watch the two of
them, idly playing with myself. Candy is laying back on her elbows, legs
straight out in front of her and parted with Lisa's head moving closer and
closer to Candy's pussy. Her head is back, eyes closed and mouth open, her chest
and tittles rising in slow ragged heaves. When Lisa's tongue finds her wet pussy
and starts running around in wide circles around the inside of her pussy lips,
Candy pulls her knees up and leans back more. Lisa's rump is high into the air
and all the more exciting, the patch of lightly browned and bristly pussy
mounding softly out between her legs. I crawl on my knees behind her and kiss
her closed pussy lips, running the tip of my tongue up and down the soft cleft.
She tastes good; not as aromatic as Candy-- milder. Standing up behind with my
hard cock horizontal in front of me I guide it into her lovebox; slowly at first
to loosen the oils and then more forcibly to get further into her hot furnace.
Candy groans under Lisa's tongue-lashing and Lisa presents more of herself to
me. I watch in sexual fever as my cock glides in and out of her--the indentation
made as I push in and the clinging lips holding my dick tight as I pull out for
another warming session. I go slow to enjoy this feeling of a tight pussy, never
loosening up; almost virgin. When I think of her possible virginity I almost
come while halfway out of her so I stop for a moment to compose myself and get
under control; then start with fresh vigour. Lisa's pussy sticks to my cock like
glue, squeezing tight, even when I get my full length into her and am pounding
up against her cervix. Candy is laid all the way back now, a leg hooked over
Lisa's neck and her hands in Lisa's hair guiding her to her secret places and
muttering urgings to her. Lisa is rapidly flicking her tongue back and forth
over the tip of Candy's clit, trying to keep her position over Candy as my
ramming rocks her body back and forth on her knees. I squeeze Lisa's firm and
ample buttocks cheeks together around my cock elongating the tunnel I have
available to slide my cock in and out of and I pound the entire length of it,
the cool skin of her ass soothing the raw and hot skin of my pole before it
enters Lisa's firebox again. Just then Candy goes rigid under Lisa's
ministrations, her pubic mound arched high in the air while she grabs great
ragged breaths of air between sobs of passion. I ram in fast and deep and let
loose inside of Lisa's lovebox and as I feel the last of the jism squirt out the
tip, pull out and scamper around the Candy's head and allow her to suck on my
softening and sticky cock. We roll over with Candy's lips atop my prong licking
away and Lisa crawls over to join us. I help her by directing her head down
between my legs where she swallows my balls one by one and gives them a
delicious licking. I manage to contort myself enough to get my head between
Lisa's thighs and get a taste of her sweet pussy commingled with my sticky cum
still oozing out the cunt hole. I've cum too many times already tonight and at
most all I can manage is a semi-hardness but the girls do me the honour of
slowly keeping up their sucking of the remainder of the night as I alternated
between pussies eating one while finger-twiddling the other. When I awoke the
next morning we were still in this position with my soft cock partially in
Lisa's pert lips and dried out cum crackling along its' shaft and hardened glue
like along her cheeks. I didn't stir from the comfortable position I was in for
the better part of the morning until a craving to take a piss forced me the
extricate myself and get up. By the time I returned, still naked and sticky, the
girls had some semblance of a breakfast ready with some hot coffee which I
solely needed. It was only after a long hot shower together that we got dressed
and said our goodbyes. Candy and I dated and got together at her place a few
more times on a steady basis but as school ended and I took summer employment in
a logging camp on Vancouver Island, we drifted apart and she fell back in with
the Scientologists. When I returned for my Senior year, she was long gone with a
cold trail. Lisa and I never mentioned that night again, though I saw her in
school every day and even dated her a couple of times. Our dates were proper
with just the right amount of groping and exploring but never like this night
had ever happened. She didn't want to talk about it and I didn't bring it up in
deference to her wishes.
Bewertung
(0 Bewertungen)Zum Bewerten bitte einloggen oder registrieren.
Du musst eingeloggt sein um Kommentare schreiben zu können. Klicke hier um dich jetzt zu registrieren.
Impressum