The Virgins’ Brave Consummation: Part 1

An Itsy-Bitsy, Teenie-Weenie

AN ITSY-BITSY, TEENIE-WEENIE TOO SMALL A SWIMSUIT? Based on a post by Tarnished Penny [https://www.literotica.com/authors/TarnishedPenny/works]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/fall-2025/AnItsyBitsyTeenieWeenie.mp3] at Steamy Stories [https://feeds.feedburner.com/steamy-stories]. [https://archive.org/download/fall-2025/AnItsyBitsyTeenieWeenie.jpg] Brazen. That was the word, Maeve thought, right out of some ancient Greek story, like The Odyssey; a 'brazen' sky. She smiled a little, thinking that her English teacher, Mrs. Pensey, would be pleased by her remembering. Her smile didn't last too long, for this sky was beyond hot. It lay like a low, searing bronze lid over the town, the oven-like temperatures scarcely relieved by the odd feeble twitch of stale, dusty breeze. Air conditioners across the region wheezed in failing attempts to keep up. The demand had become so high that the electrical system was struggling and consumers had been warned of possible rolling service interruptions to avoid a complete collapse. Records weren't being broken, not quite, but the last time it had been this hot for this long had been almost a century ago. People moved noticeably slower outside, speeding up as they neared buildings known to be cool inside. There were reports of families sleeping overnight in their cars to take advantage of vehicle air conditioners and the town council had activated an emergency cooling plan for the poor and elderly, with cots being set up in local gyms and arenas. Tempers were fraying and, after a couple of spectacular brawls in parks and bars, the police had announced an increased presence on the north-east end of town. Maeve, wearing just panties, groaned in frustration as she tried again to adjust the sweep of the fan sitting on the floor in front of her. Irritatingly, the fan refused to be set to aim in just one direction; it insisted on swinging back and forth, leaving her swaying from side to side in a futile effort to stay in the cooler air stream. It wasn't that much of a fan in any case; her parents had passed it to her when they got a larger one. Air conditioning was not on the cards in this household. Maeve lifted her heavy tits to cool the sweat-soaked crease beneath them. The fan responded by dying altogether, its blades gradually slowing to an infuriating halt. She reached for the switch, played with it, moaning in frustration when it refused to so much as groan in apology. Angrily, she stomped down the hall to her parents' bedroom. Her mother was at work and her father out of town for the week on a freight run to Florida; they could share for an hour. As she entered the curtained bedroom, she flicked at the light switch. The lights stayed off. She fiddled with the switch a couple of times before realizing that the power must be out. She swore a most unladylike oath, then doubled down when her phone down the hall started ringing. "Maeve?" It was her BFF Tanya; "Have you got power?" "No such luck. It just went out." "Damn it, girl, what are we going to do? I'm dying over here." "Cold showers?" "Not funny." "The mall?" "I can see it from my place. Power's out there, too. People are leaving and they're not letting anyone back in. How about the Memorial Pool?" "It'd be crowded." Maeve said, then paused. "But, wait. They still have those spray coolers, right?" "Did last week. And it's an adults-only timeslot. No freaky kids screaming." "Okay, then." "You should wear that new bikini you bought," Tanya giggled. "The yellow spotted one." "You're kidding, right?" Maeve hadn't adjusted to the thought of being seen in public wearing the abbreviated outfit. "Anyway, I didn't buy it; you bought it for me on a dare." "Which," Tanya snickered, "you didn't refuse at the time." "You never asked." "Okay," Tanya said; and Maeve could hear the grin over the phone; "I'm asking, daring, you now!" She had Maeve hooked; and both girls knew it. "So, um, what would you be wearing?" she dodged. "Something appropriate." Tanya dodged back. "Well," Okay," Maeve said. "I'm too hot to argue. Pick me up in 15? Mom's taken the car to work." "Can't. My brother took ours up to the hills to go camping." "That means walking like 12 blocks in this heat, Tanya." "It's that or melt, Maeve. I'll see you there at 2, sharp." Not giving Maeve time to reply, the girl hung up. Maeve took the bikini out of her drawer, still in the store bag. As she looked at the scraps of bright fabric in her hands, she felt a stirring inside her, a sense of excitement, like a child stealing peaches from a neighbor's orchard. She peeled off her damp panties, letting them fall to the floor. Tying the side ties of the G-string bottom, she slid it up her legs and over her bottom. The triangle, while covering her sex completely, was no bigger than her palm. The ties, of course, covered nothing. At least there isn't a camel-toe, she thought, looking at herself in the mirror. She tried the top on next. The small triangles of cloth just barely covered her and her nipples were obvious despite the thin padding. She put her hands under her tits and hefted them, adjusting the fit. Turning back and forth in front of her mirror, she frowned and slipped out of the garment to readjust a tie. Putting it back on, she turned back and forth, smiled wickedly in spite of herself. Damn, but that looks hot! Maeve considered a fashionable pair of sandals but reconsidered when she realized how thin the soles were and opted for a pair of sneakers. She slipped a thin, knee-length sundress over the bikini and found a broad straw hat. Even so, by the time she reached the pool, her feet were burning and she had perspired enough that she looked as if she had been dipped in baby oil. Her small bag, containing little more than sun-screen, a towel and a bottle of water, seemed to weigh a ton in the heat. Finally, she reached the shady entranceway and pushed a bill through the till at the cashier before moving through into the pool area. On her way, she pulled her sun dress over her shoulders, feeling the hot sun on her back and legs. Only then did her problems really start. From inside the office came a thin, annoyed voice. "You can't wear that here! Put something on that's respectable." Emerging from his burrow was McGregor, the pool supervisor, a gaunt, grey, sour man. Rumor had it that he'd once smiled at his mother, but few believed it. His normally choleric disposition had not been improved by the heat. As Maeve watched, a drop of sweat trickled off his forehead and oozed down through his eyebrow. The girl watched its progress as it entered his right eye. McGregor winced and rubbed it with a forefinger. "You heard me," he said. "What?" Maeve said, looking down at herself. "Why not? Everything's covered, isn't it?" "Look, missy, I run the pool for the town. One of my jobs is to keep things orderly here. And I'm saying that swimsuit isn't acceptable dress." "So, you won't let me in wearing this? You won't let me go swimming? In this heat?" "No way." The old man shook his head. "But I walked 12 blocks to get here!" the girl wailed. "Should've considered the dress code first." "What dress code? The sign just talks about showering and spitting." "Common sense, young lady." "Please?" "No. Not with that suit on." The frustration boiled out of Maeve. "Fine, then. You won't let me in with it, then I'll go without it!" The girl could hear Tanya giggle behind her, but was angry enough to carry through with her threat. Given the nature of the suit, it took only a couple of seconds to pull the ties and step clear of the falling cloth. McGregor's eyes bulged in astonishment. Maeve had never considered herself centerfold material, but what she had, she now bared with flaming, righteous indignation. Covered in perspiration and flushed with anger, she blazed like a Celtic warrior princess before battle. She stomped her foot in anger, sending her tits bobbing in the hot sun. "Come on!" she shouted. "Throw me out now!" She snatched up her suit from the ground and made as if to step around the befuddled pool manager. McGregor started to reach for her, then paused. Maeve could almost read his mind; Wrestling a naked 18-year-old girl in public. Not a good image. He jerked back his hand as if it had been burned. "I'll have you thrown out!" "By whom?" McGregor paused for a second. "The lifeguards," he said. "Walter?" She chuckled and swiveled her head around to look at the sunburned guy melting on the high chair under the broiling sun. "I don't think so." She waved at him. The guy's flushed skin wasn't entirely due to the sun. He pretended to be watching swimmers already in the pool, but she could see his eyes bulging out as they were drawn to her form. Walter was one of the most common topics of discussion among half of Maeve's schoolmates. It was the solid consensus among the female students that Walter was just about the best-looking guy in town. Tall, graceful, with a baritone voice and eyes as blue as his hair was black, he could have had a date with any girl there by merely raising an eyebrow. Some of her peers, Maeve knew, had taken up swimming just to be able to ogle the young man's sculpted form on his lifeguard chair. Sadly for Walter, and his distaff classmates, he was painfully, devastatingly shy with women, to the point some girls had questioned his orientation. Maeve was in the larger, more hopeful camp, the ones who felt he was merely socially awkward and could be 'helped'. In any case, she was pretty sure she was safe from being evicted by the shy young man. The other lifeguard was Tiffany, even smaller than Tanya; Maeve wasn't much worried about her, either. "I'll call the police!" McGregor threatened. "Go for it," Maeve snorted. "I think they've got better things to do." Mr. McGregor looked around for support. Instead, he saw another couple shedding swimsuits. The woman sat down with her feet in the water and watched Maeve; the man dived into the water before surfacing and, treading water, watching the drama unfolding. Both were smiling broadly. The woman's tits showed no tan lines; could it be they did this all the time? As Maeve watched, water from the cooling spray collected on another man's chest and slowly trickled down to his groin. The girl watched it for a second, awaiting its inevitable fall from. Maeve had a sudden inspiration, something she'd read web-surfing only the day before. She shook her head to shake the image of the man across from her and broke into a brilliant smile. "After all, Mr. McGregor," she beamed. "It's National Nude Day. Progress never stops." "What?" the man almost screamed. "National what Day? There's no such thing!" "Certainly there is," Maeve grinned. "You can google it, Mr. McGregor. It's a national celebration." To emphasize her point, she arched her back, thrusting her bare tits up and forward at the dazed caretaker. Behind her, she could hear the sounds of other people starting to laugh and from somewhere came a supporting whistle. McGregor had never been well-liked and it was too hot for rulebooks. More people started taking off their clothes. "Come on, Tanya," she snorted. Tanya had already doffed her bikini. Pushing between the others, she handed it to McGregor in passing. The old man looked at the handful of colorful fabric in disbelief then dropped it as if it were toxic. He spun around and almost sprinted away. The sound of his office door slamming echoed across the pool. A moment later, he exited and headed for the parking lot. His car left seconds later, spraying gravel as it went. Maeve dropped her suit and bag on a chair, stepped up onto the low board and dove into the pool with a clean forward pike. She was surprised at the delicious feel of cool water on areas which had never felt bare swimming before. I was made for this! she realized with delight. She was still more surprised when her head surfaced. Every person in the crowded pool was applauding her. Except Walter. With nudity breaking out all around him, Walter wasn't quite sure where to look. His eyes locked on Tanya, all five feet of her, topped with short red hair, and with, as the saying goes, a rug matching the drapes. Tanya caught him looking at her and pointedly blew him a kiss. Walter blushed and his eyes darted away, almost in panic. But he couldn't look away from the increasingly-unclad bodies in the pool, for watching was his job. The guy's growing panic was almost palpable. Pretend we're on the Net, Walter, Maeve snickered to herself. I'm sure you've looked at boobies on your phone! Then she had a better idea. Waiting until Tiffany was occupied, she slipped under the water in front of Walter's chair, then emerged with a loud splashing about. "Cramp!" she yelled, before allowing herself to sink back under the water. Walter's training kicked in and he was off his perch in a clean dive. Two stokes had him up to Maeve. He got too close; the girl grabbed him. There was a brief wrestling match, which Walter of course won; but in the process, Maeve had his swim trunks down around his ankles. In desperation, Walter kicked them off without thinking; and, breaking loose from Maeve's grasp, towed her efficiently to the side. "Don't panic!" he called. "You're safe! I've got you!" Right out of the book. Maeve smiled to herself, despite the discomfort of being towed. Who's got who? she thought. Okay, whom? Walter reached around and pulled her to the edge, putting both hands on the concrete ledge. It was only then that he realized he was missing something. He looked frantically around for a way out. Maeve cut him off by taking both hands off the ledge, grabbing Walter's head, and turning him in towards her. Leaning forward, she began a long, sensuous kiss, tongue sweeping inside his lips. In his panic, Walter let go to push her away, only to cause both of them to slide under the surface of the deep water. He reached back with one hand, using the other in a vain attempt to free his face. Maeve was relentless and, almost without realizing it, his lips opened and Walter had his very first tongue kiss. Her tongue slipped inside his mouth and licked back and forth. Unsurprisingly, even in the cold water, Maeve felt him react under the surface. She pulled back, grinning at him as their heads broke the surface, into the air. "Thank you for saving me, Walter," she smiled, as beguilingly as she could. "I might have drowned." Walter's free hand left her face and wrapped around her waist to hold her. "It's Okay," he said huskily. "I think you would've made it." "But I still have a cramp, Walter," she breathed, her nose only six inches from his. She deliberately opened her eyes as wide as possible. "The book says to massage the cramp," he said. Again, he paused. He was uncomfortably (Okay; delightedly, but still uncomfortably) aware of Maeve's substantial bosom pressing against his chest. He knew, beyond the ghost of a doubt, that his rubbing her bare leg out on the pool deck, would have him hard as a rock. Without his trunks. In public. "It's so hot by the pool," she said, batting her eyes, "Isn't there a room, out of the sun; or something?" It was about as transparent as, Come up to my room and see my sketchings, but Walter wasn't thinking as well as he might. They climbed out and Maeve managed to fake a creditable limp. Scooping her up in his arms, Walter headed for the small first-aid room, between the 2 changing rooms. He got a round of applause for his rescue from the (now mostly bare) spectators. Most were so busy applauding, that they overlooked his half-hard tallywhacker. Maeve merely leaned her head on his shoulder. It was an odd feeling, she thought, his strong arms carrying her. She hadn't been carried like that since she was a little girl. It felt comforting, and exciting, at the same time. Tanya gave her a wink and a quick thumbs-up, as they passed. Passing Tiffany, Walter called to her to cover his monitoring duties for a couple of minutes; as he kicked the door open, carrying the buck naked girl inside. Maeve had never been in the room before, but was unsurprised to see it was fairly bare except for a glass-fronted supply cabinet, full of bandages; and a cloth-covered exam table. A spine board and stretcher hung off hooks mounted on the wall. A telephone was mounted on the wall next to a list of emergency numbers. It was pleasantly cooler, and dim, with the only light coming from a row of windows high up on one wall. "Okay," he said, standing her back up and trying to sound professional, "Lie down on the table, please." Having the guy thoroughly off-balance by now, Maeve decided to press her advantage. Holding his forearm with one hand, she hopped on one foot towards the table. His eyes popped as he watched her hefty tits sway and bounce. "Help me, Walter!" she cried, leaning towards him. Flustered and hardly thinking, his strong hands grabbed her; as she had planned; by her bare ass. There was a split-second pause before he shifted his grip to her waist. Gingerly, he helped her get up on the table. She rolled over on her stomach. "It's my right calf," she said. Walter paused. "I thought it was your left," he said, puzzled. Oops! She thought to herself. "No, it's my right," she whispered, as she spread her legs as wide as the exam table would support. "Please! It really hurts." Gallantly, the guy began to stroke her right calf. Maeve smiled to herself, her face hidden. She wiggled her round ass, just a little, and could feel his stare. His hands stopped, then restarted, more slowly now. She eased her legs a bit farther apart, giving her victim a much better view of her glistening cunt lips. His hands stopped altogether. A slight poke on her hip told her everything she needed to know. Guided by that, her hand reached out and grasped something every bit as impressive as she had been hoping. "Hey!" he blurted. He tried to back away, but risked leaving behind important and sensitive parts, in her firm grip. Maintaining her grasp on him, Maeve rolled over and sat up, smiling sweetly. "Walter," she murmured, "I'll let go the instant you tell me a second time. But you and I both know, that you truly don't want me to." Her free hand reached out, took one of his and brought it slowly, gently towards her tit. While he didn't exactly cooperate, he didn't resist either. She stopped just short of causing his palm to contact her stiff nipple, then relaxed her grip on his wrist. "You're strong and sweet and really good-looking, Walter," she whispered. "Isn't it about time you let yourself try?" His eyes flipped up, to lock with hers. She released his manhood, then with both hands she cupped her tits and lifted them towards him as an offering. "Go ahead, Walter," she said, almost inaudibly. "They're made for handsome guys, as well as babies, you know." She reached up one hand behind his neck, then took his head and slowly pulled it down to hers before whispering into the guy's ear, "I want you, Walter. Kiss me. Please." She felt both his hands close on her tits, carefully squeezing and lifting them. Deep within her, a fire began to glow. His lips touched hers, tentatively at first. She ran her tongue across them. After a moment, his mouth opened and the tip of his own tongue swept lightly across hers. Still holding his head in both her hands, she pulled their mouths apart. "That feels very good, darling. Don't stop, please." She pulled him back in for a longer, stronger kiss. Their tongues wrapped around each other. She felt his cock twitch against her leg a

Virgin Brit On A French Holiday: Part 2

THE BUSTY TRUCKDRIVER IN 1960S FRANCE. By Slowandeasy47 [https://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=3609908&page=submissions]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/summer-shorts/VirginBritOnAFrenchHoliday2.mp3] at Steamy Stories [https://feeds.feedburner.com/steamy-stories]. [https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXHl8mXNJuNGI8dWnQ1gsGytdX0EluhI7R2WpdHhyphenhyphen5lpHc3RBDAFzE5UkqYLzxamxZ-PMFEheyEmmJ58FGeHxPWc0xJjmDyfuD_QU1L5BJs0NefXbWwfTvWRFY5LaU4DPxNvHEXN80xRE-JcVt-mDjXW7eaS2RF-ZARizZhLO2IzIuEuhY3dA7ZxuJVx8/w638-h640/VirginBrit2.jpg]https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXHl8mXNJuNGI8dWnQ1gsGytdX0EluhI7R2WpdHhyphenhyphen5lpHc3RBDAFzE5UkqYLzxamxZ-PMFEheyEmmJ58FGeHxPWc0xJjmDyfuD_QU1L5BJs0NefXbWwfTvWRFY5LaU4DPxNvHEXN80xRE-JcVt-mDjXW7eaS2RF-ZARizZhLO2IzIuEuhY3dA7ZxuJVx8/s1284/VirginBrit2.jpg The bigger adventure now began. School finished and college not starting until October, two and a half months to find out as much as I could about life and have some serious fun. I had started my long break by visiting my Tante Marise in her French chateau. She had taught me a lot, and introduced me to the joys of assisted showering, a pleasure that I have enjoyed throughout my life. As a French lady, she saw my typical Brit uptightness about human sexuality, and helped me about as much as a proper relative is allowed to. Where to go next and what to do had been the two big questions. In the 1960s travel to far off lands was not really one of my options, so I decided to head for the beaches of the northern Spanish Mediterranian coast, commonly called the Riviera. Here I could live cheaply, enjoy the weather and get a proper sun tan. Travel by air, with a tour company, was way outside my budget, but a friend had given me his hints and tips for hitch hiking long distances and now, I was in northern France planning an 800 mile hitchhike to Barcelona, or actually anywhere nearby. Barcelona had the attraction of being in a straight line from my starting point at Tante Marise's and the direct route was via only two roads so, with a bit of luck maybe, just maybe, only one or two changes of lift. My first lift was a little disappointing as it didn't even get me to Paris but the driver was pleasant enough and chatty. I supposed that life on the road could be pretty lonely and he was enjoying the company. My next was more fruitful. It was a familiar-looking British lorry which pulled up with a hiss of airbrakes and the driver, being on the rightside door as all U K vehicles are situated; directed me round to the passenger side. To us Brits, everyone else was, of course, on the wrong side, now that we were in France. As the passenger door swung open a cheery female voice from the depths of the cab hailed me with, "Hop in sweetheart." I grabbed the handrail, put my foot on the step, and swung myself & my duffle in. "Where you off to then?" She enquired as I stowed my bag under my legs & settled myself into the seat. "Barcelona, or somewhere near there." I replied, taking stock of my new surroundings. My chauffeur was very obviously female, if the voice hadn't give her away the sight of her jiggly bust certainly did. She wore her bleached blond hair somewhat short, her tee-shirt somewhat tight around the rocking tits, and faded denim cutoffs. I guessed she was about thirty and she had a cheeky impish grin. "So 'ow long you going for?" "I don't have to be back until October to start university classes." "Blimey, nice work if you can get it!" and she shot me a smile that formed alluring dimples on her cheeks. “Speaking of work,” I ventured a question.. “You’re the first female trucker I’ve ever encountered? How’s that working out?” “My pop owns the truckline, so when they had a driver shortage, I made my pitch and showed him how well I handle a rig.” “How’d you learn?” I asked. “Most of my teen years were spent working the weekend freight dock, and on the slow shifts I’d practice driving when no one was around.” She explained. The next several hundred kilometers passed in getting to know each other. Gilly was her name. She loved life on the road, often did the same runs up and down through France, knew all the best stops and frequently picked up hitchhikers for the chat and to pass the hours. "So off for the three-S holiday are we?" "The three S?" I said quizzically. "Yep, the three S. Do you know you can tell someone’s age by their three esses?" "Sorry, I'm not with you." "Right I'll tell you, you just complete the third S with the first thing that comes into your head, OK?" "OK!" "Sun, sea and?" "Sand!" This reply was met with about the dirtiest sounding laugh I have ever heard in my life! "OK, you're about eight years old! Sun sea and sand!" More laughter, "Let's try again. Sun, sea and?" "Sangria?" "Getting better, much better, but still not there. One more try." I am now getting nervous. The only other S I can think of is sex and I was certainly not going to say that out loud to this lady I'd only just met. She's good company and I don't want to get put out in the middle of nowhere. "Sun sea and?" Came the question again. My mind was racing for an escape route and I suddenly found it. "How many letters?" She took one hand off the wheel and started turning her fingers down one by one as she counted. "Eight." Phew, so it wasn't sex. You cannot believe how relieved I was that I hadn't said it, but eight? I racked my brains, but even sangria was only seven. "I Give up." I admitted. Her reply stunned my into silence. I could hardly believe my ears. "Shagging! Shagging of course. Sun, sea, and shagging. Isn't that why all you students head for the Costas?" My week mumblings were incoherent and never meant to be heard anyway. Gilly, with the ashen blond hair, tight T shirt and filthy laugh had just said 'Shagging'! "Come on now." She said placing one hand on my knee for a few seconds and flashing me her beguiling smile, dimples and all. "Don't tell me I'm wrong.” "Look, I bet you a quid that I'd find johnnies in your ruck sack? But I'm not giving you the quid unless you let me check. There are johnnies in your pack aren't there?" This was getting out of hand. This busty & fit lady had just put her hand on my knee, flashed me a smile and boxed me into a corner. "You win." I said reluctantly. "Knew it. Sun, sea and shagging! Well a good looking lad like you shouldn't have much trouble feasting on the roast chicken beaches." Again, the smile with the dimples. "Roast chicken beaches?" I wanted to know what she meant but didn't want to appear as naive as I was. "Yea, you know. All those bikini-clad girls sunbathing all day and, like a roast chicken, yet all the best bits are white!" Another pat on the knee accompanied by a chortle or two of that dirty laugh. "That is unless you go to Playa Mar Bella, where every one is the same colour all over because they don't wear anything." I am now having trouble controlling the cinema in my head. Nudist beaches, I hadn't even thought about that. I had only ever seen one naked woman in my life and the pictures floating through my mind were starting to cause problems in my trousers. On a nudist beach I would certainly get an erection and what to do then? "I think I'd better stick to normal beaches." I muttered weakly. "Not sure you could cope with all those naked bums and tits, eh? I have to say it's a bit of a surprise the first time." The first time? Is Gilly telling me she goes to nudist beaches? Displays those magnificent tits to the world, not to mention her pussy. Shit, I must stop thinking about Gilly naked, it's getting difficult. A few more miles rolled past. "OK, time for a game of Truth or Dare. Obviously the dares are going to be limited but if you don't want to answer you just pay a forfeit. You start." I can only remember the key questions. We started off simply enough just asking slightly more probing questions than you would in normal conversation when she asked me. "Truth or dare?" "Truth." "What's the most embarrassing moment of your life?" Shit! I thought. "Do I have to answer." "Of course, that's the game, unless you want to pay a forfeit and my forfeits are quite challenging." "Well, a couple of years ago I barged in to my parent's bedroom. They were both naked, on top of the bed and 'doing it'." The dirty laugh just got dirtier, "I bet that put them off their stride. Shit, embarrassing all round. OK, your turn, I'll go for truth." "What body part are you most proud of?" Expecting an evasive answer. "My tits of course! Aren't they great? You've hardly taken your eyes off them for the last hundred miles. My turn. Where did you loose your virginity." "Um, er, well, er......" "Are you trying to say it hasn't happened yet?" "Er yes." "Jeepers, cooped up in a cab for hundreds of miles with a virgin. No wonder you can't take your eyes of my tits! Your go." "How old were you when you first had sex?" "Oh that's easy. Old enough to know better, young enough not to care!" More dirty laughter, "It was at my birthday party, the night I became 'old enough to know better'. There was a boy I'd fancied for ages, we'd snogged before, but I took him up to my room. My turn. If you were a girl for a day what would you do?" I was getting much more comfortable with the company of this wonderful woman. She was so open and seemed so worldly wise. Before I could really think of the answer my mouth said. "Find a nice boy and take him up to my room." "Great answer! He was fun, but very inexperienced. It didn't last long. He got the Johnny on, put it in, moved up and down a couple of times and made a noise that left me in no doubt that it was all over. Not exactly the Karma Sutra but it got the job done." I can hardly believe my ears. This woman had just described her first sexual experience to me without batting an eye lid. The sixties were definitely a liberating decade. Then we pulled off the road to a Routier. Parked up in a diagonal line with lots of other lorries. "That's it for today. Let's eat." We walked over to the building and as I followed her I couldn't help but notice how the tight denim cutoff shorts clung to her very alluring bum, which wobbled in a truly delightful way. Her trucker’s wallet flapped around, protruding from her right butt pocket. They served delicious food, at a fixed price, with a glass of wine and I noticed with relief that they also had rooms also at very reasonable prices. After the meal I got up and walked towards reception. "Where are you off to?" "Get a room." "Well, if you want to save some money and you promise to be good, you can kip down in the cab. It'll be cosy, but cheap. I get the bunk, but the seats all fold forwards and you can put your mat across them. Your decision." I must have looked like a goldfish gasping for air. This very attractive lady with stunning tits and an attractive bum, comfortable enough in her own skin to talk freely about sex to a lad she'd never met, was offering to let me share her cab. I was very naive back then! We made use of the facilities and went back to the cab to natter and find some tunes on the radio. Eventually it was time to call it a day and I spread my camping mat over the folded down seat backs. She got into her bunk and with all the curtains drawn it was pitch dark. I could hear her getting settled for the night so I took advantage of the darkness and slipped out of my trousers and T shirt. I couldn't help but wonder if she had done the same and was now lying just a few feet away with those magnificent tits unencumbered by a bra. I had to stop thinking like this because I could feel my cock swelling. She was right, it was cosy. It was also blooming uncomfortable, compared to a real bed, but then again it was cheap. "Comfy over there?" She asked. I tried to sound convincing but obviously failed. "We did some Truth earlier, but not much Dare." Said the voice in the dark. So here's my first Dare, I dare you to come over here and get a bit more comfortable." What! I was being invited to the bunk. I told you I was naïve. "Seriously?" "Yes seriously, that's the dare; and the forfeit is to take all your clothes off and run round the truck three times." Not much of a choice really. I wriggled over to the bunk and under her duvet. It didn't take me long to discover that she was totally naked. First my arm accidentally brushed her tits and in trying to move it to a less embarrassing location discovered she wasn't wearing panties either. "Well, big boy, now you know. I'm naked and you've promised to be good, so get rid of your pants, grab a johnny and show me just how good you can be." The penny finally dropped. Fuck, was this really happening? Was I about to loose my virginity? I hadn't had to try out my new chat up lines or make any other effort and now I was in a pitch dark cab with a somewhat older woman, naked, telling me to get a johnny on. After much fumbling in my bag I managed to find the condoms and roll one on to my rigid cock. She sensed I was ready and pulled me gently on top of her, one hand found my, now fully erect, virgin, cock and guided it towards her entrance. No boy ever forgets the first time his cock slides into a real live pussy. I don't know what I was expecting, but certainly not the slippery, wonderfully welcoming, sensation as all the nerves in my cock started screaming at the same time. Once she had me fully in, she held me close and whispered in my ear. "Just stay still, don't try to move." I felt her push up from under me as she forced herself against my cock a couple of times: I could take it no more. I shot my bolt and filled the condom. I came like I'd never never cum before. The whole experience was erotic beyond my wildest dreams, but it was over so quickly. "Sorry, uh, sorry. I'm so sorry." I stammered realising it hadn't been much of a success for her. "Shush. Shush." She held me tightly to her magnificent tits as my cock shrank slowly back out of her. I hadn't even handled her tits yet and here I was, spent. "I tried to tell you earlier that it's always a bit quick the first time. There's plenty of time, besides you'll remember this moment for the rest of your life and there is something special about fucking a virgin, I really felt it when you came, every single lovely pulse." I disposed of the condom and we chatted some more while she stroked me gently. Normally, after an orgasm, I was satisfied for the night. If I was feeling particularly horny I could have another one in about half an hour or so and so it was with the actual act of fucking. She had me stiff and ready to go again after just a few minutes of stroking. "This time," she said, "no johnny. I want you to feel what a real fuck feels like. I'm on the new birth control pill: Ionly got you to use one earlier to slow you down. This time we are going bare back and you have promised to be good." She clamped her mouth over my lips, her tongue sought out mine, my new erection found its own way into her. This time it was much slower and the slippery sensation was even greater. I had time to fondle her breasts, feel the magnificent sensation of my cock sliding gently in and out of her without the barrier of the condom. If this wasn't heaven it was pretty close. It still didn't take all that long and when she ran her fingernails over my bum it was the final straw: I shot my bolt for the second time. We fell asleep and the next thing we knew was the sound of a revving engines as the earliest departures headed off. We went into the building, had a coffee and croissant for breakfast and hit the road. "My load is all chemicals and I'm actually taking it to Barcelona. So I can take you all the way." She said slowly with a wink and mischievous smile. I was beginning to understand this lady. We chatted as she drove and learned a lot about each other's lives. I still couldn't take my eyes off her sizable jiggling tits and every time I thought about the previous evening I started to get another erection. She seemed to enjoy getting me worked up with her risqué conversation. She talked so freely about sex, as though it might have been the weather. We arrived at the Zona Franca, the big industrial area near the port and wandered around in the sunshine while she was waiting for the unloading. "I've still got a few dares up my sleeve if you fancy staying with me tonight. It's a cheap hotel but better than the cab." The answer was a foregone conclusion. After another reasonable meal we made our way to the hotel. It was very close to the port and most of the truckers stayed there, as I was to discover much to my embarrassment. "Hi Gilly, brought your other son with you, have ya?" "Fuck off, Jacko, you're only jealous." As she raised a finger in salute. "Besides he can do all night what it would take you all night to do!" And placing her clenched fist over her crotch flicked her first finger straight out mimicking an explosive erection and gave a burst of that dirty laugh. We settled into the room, clean and reasonably comfortable, without being in any way posh. "Time to get rid of the road dirt." And she headed for the shower. "Come on then I'm not sleeping with you stinking! Get your kit off." She pulled her T shirt over her head and her tits swung free and she undid the belt on her denim shorts. "Chop chop." I was still processing the information. We were going to shower together! I wasn't going to miss the opportunity. My eyes feasted on her tits, her cute little bum, the forest of curly hair that tried unsuccessfully to hide her cleft. Where to look? My eyes ran riot, tits, bum, pubes and that valley, I couldn't take my eyes off that valley. By the time I got my pants off I had another stonking erection. We got into the shower and soaped each other all over, and I mean all over. If her tits were a feast for the eyes and a joy to touch, they were ecstasy to soap. I savoured every second. She got me to soap her bum which was an equally erotic experience and then she directed my hand down to her pubes. This was another sensational experience and I was amazed at how easily my finger slid into her. By now my cock was throbbing and I was doing my best not to touch it, knowing what would happen if I did. She then approached me from the front, with a hand full of soap, slid one hand under my balls and pulled my foreskin back with the other. This was only going to end one way, and in the very near future. I felt myself at the point of no return as she slid her soapy hand up and down the length of my cock. The inevitable happened. My cock jerked in her hand several times and I shot my cum all over her stomach. I was about to apologise when she spoke. "OK, wow! The express has just left, so now we can take the slow train." She leant forward and kissed me passionately and then washed my cum off her belly. "Time to dry off." Hang on a moment, so this was all part of her plan? I may have been learning fast, but I was still naïve. After toweling each other dry we went and lay on the bed. She encouraged me to explore her body, guiding my hand to her most sensitive parts and allowing me to slide a finger in that delightfully slippery divide between her legs. There’s no forgetting the first woman who lets you roam about, investigating her naked body. My cock however only recovered slowly, that is until she slid down my body and kissed it. I had never heard of this before and she sensed my apprehension. "Just relax and go with it!" These were the last words I heard before she sucked my cock gently into her mouth. I know now about blow jobs, but then? No way! Never even heard of it, but my cock understood exactly what was happening. It quickly came to attention again. "Girls like this too, you know," She said pointedly, as she slid back up to my side. "They really like it." By now I had woken up enough to take the hint and slid down the bed. I emerged between her knees and had my first ever close up view of a cunt. Lovely, sexy, pink lipped, blond hair surrounded, cunt. I followed her example, licking slowly and positively, from bottom to top. It t

Virgin Brit On A French Holiday: Part 1

TANTE MARIE’S CHATEAU OF DELIGHTS. By Slowandeasy47 [https://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=3609908&page=submissions] - Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/summer-shorts/VirginBritOnAFrenchHoliday1.mp3] at Steamy Stories [https://feeds.feedburner.com/steamy-stories].   [https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRNIX6IglZ4dWcPjFy5eBFlhTlcr0J9zyzwBg9nrbHFBvBSMml-eIsH1CU2rGF6x20IqZFrT_7QsOVHqQ16eDYiPbBhY-4mGKb2Wzcq6O8Gfwxg14qj_4ieHUQDTMSXJsu17mPlSXHB4CmzXqk3UBcRXfw9O6q6Niia2pyg9Z43yS-reM1Z5DeNLYaTYc/w570-h640/VirginBritOnAFrenchHoliday1%5B1%5D.jpg]https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRNIX6IglZ4dWcPjFy5eBFlhTlcr0J9zyzwBg9nrbHFBvBSMml-eIsH1CU2rGF6x20IqZFrT_7QsOVHqQ16eDYiPbBhY-4mGKb2Wzcq6O8Gfwxg14qj_4ieHUQDTMSXJsu17mPlSXHB4CmzXqk3UBcRXfw9O6q6Niia2pyg9Z43yS-reM1Z5DeNLYaTYc/s682/VirginBritOnAFrenchHoliday1%5B1%5D.jpg I had just left school at the age of nineteen and had a whole summer before starting uni in October. I was off to France for a month and in the 60s that was a big adventure, I couldn’t wait. Having been cloistered in a boys boarding school for the last five years I was now off to explore the world, well northern France at least. We had relatives there and I was going to spend my first month in a chateau just outside Amiens. Chateau sounds very grand and thanks to TV, if not schoolboy French, it doesn’t mean castle. It in fact means a gentleman’s residence, substantial for sure, but no portcullis or draw bridge. I had never met Tante Marise, nor stayed in a chateau, draw bridge or no draw bridge. France was a very formal place in the 60’s, actually it still is, so Aunt Marise was always addressed as Tante, or Tante Marise: never, ever simply as Marise, way too sloppy for the linguistically pedantic French. Although, interestingly enough, we did use the familiar tu, rather than the more formal vous form. One of those interesting vagaries of Roman languages. Actually Tante Marise now lived in one wing of the chateau as the place was enormous and, even in the 60’s, quite unmanageable for a single family, so it had been divided into three, still substantial, homes. The building was massively imposing. A classic Somme chateau with a hugely impressive double staircase to the centre section and two wings. Tante Marise lived in one of the wings and the rest had been sold off, but the land, an apple orchard, had remained in the family, largely for the private production of Calvados, which is the French word for brandy. As I recall, in those days, you were allowed to make a certain amount of Calvados without a permit, as long as it was for private consumption, but definitely not for sale. My late lamented uncle Cyril had applied a certain French flexibility to the rules and there were stashes of this magic potion all over the farm. The interest of the authorities had been distracted by his throwing of lavish boozing sessions with the local constables. Alas Uncle Maurice had passed away and I surmised that my board and lodging was something of a quid pro quo for helping with the harvest. I was only nineteen, so hard work didn’t worry me and besides they had one of those magnificent 60s French bicycles I could use in my spare time. It was a Solex bicycle or something similar. It had a simple motor that you lowered with a lever onto the front tyre and no longer had to pedal. I could use it to go to the village or wherever I liked. It would never have crossed my mind to borrow the car any more than it would have crossed hers to offer it. That was not the way things happened then. The great day came and the details of how I got to Tante Marise’s chateau are lost to the mists of time but arrive I did. My first introduction to her was of her grasping me by the shoulders, pulling me towards her and planting several kisses on each cheek, an uncommon greeting in England at the time, but very pleasant. She was petite, with short dark hair and very square glasses. She was also younger than I expected. I never knew her age but I calculated it to be late thirties and I remember being surprised at how neat and trim her figure was, but most of all, how obvious her breasts were. They had actually contacted my chest during her enthusiastic greeting, which had been a delight. Cyril & Marise had never had children and always enjoyed the visits from their nephews and nieces. Why it had taken so long for the English side of the family to visit is uncertain, but the recent visit was probably prompted by my impending university course studying French literature I settled in and tried speaking French, probably with mixed success. Tante Marise herself was French, spoke pretty good English, but with that delightfully sexy French accent made famous many years later by the TV programme ‘Allo 'Allo. However, part of the reason for my stay was to get my conversational French fluent, so she only allowed us to speak English after supper and, as no-one else on the farm spoke English, it was going to be a valuable experience. It was a typically hot summer and Tante Marise liked to wear very light clothing, so my young eyes could hardly avert my gaze from her very obvious breasts. They were made all the more noticeable because of her habit of not wearing a bra. This was a completely new trend at that time and usually only observed on the Riviera. Not so with Tante Marise, whenever she bent over in the orchards or the kitchen, her pendulous breasts undulated in the most delightful fashion and, I have to confess, featured heavily in my nocturnal fantasies. Occasionally the farm foreman would come to supper and, after finishing off their meal with a glass of calvados, they would head to the 'Bureau’ to discuss business. Antoine was a giant of a man with huge hands, a great shock of white hair and a magnificent moustache, the kind you only ever see now in caricatures of French moustaches. On these occasions I was left alone in the parlor to watch TV. French TV back in those days was much more risqué than its English equivalent and I was often treated to pictures of naked ladies, admittedly usually a rear view, but totally naked all the same. How did the actor who was facing her cope with the pleasant distraction? He must have seen everything! And everything was beyond my wildest dreams. We must remember that this was the sixties, no internet and certainly no porn or even explicit magazines. I really can’t remember what we called female genitalia back then but it probably wasn’t as nice as my newly acquired French word, foufoune, or pussie; so I will use that. One evening, when Tante Marise and Antoine were in the 'Bureau’ discussing business, I got so worked up by a really sexy French film, featuring a totally naked couple, that I made my way to my room to relieve the tension that the characters on screen had induced in my teenage penis or 'ma bitte’, which means ‘my dick’, as I had heard the actors calling it. The route to my room took me past the 'Bureau’ and whatever they were discussing, it had little or nothing to do with the running of the farm. Remember, I was only nineteen and had been at a boys’ boarding school for the last five years. I had no knowledge of sex whatsoever, except the purely mechanical process from biology lessons. The penis enters the vagina, semen flows, fertilisation takes place, et voilá, reproduction! The detail of what sex might actually be like was still a mystery and, I imagined, still several years in the future. The world was a much more naive place back then: much more. I had never even seen a picture of a naked woman, let alone seen a real one, and my knowledge of breasts was limited to pictures in Health & Efficiency magazine, which was popular at the time. Now, for the first time ever in my young life, I was hearing sounds that I only thought I understood. Tante Marise was using French words I hadn’t learned yet and so was Antoine! Their breathless exchanges along with the rhythmic squeaking sounds of the 'Bureau’s day couch were seriously erotic. Was this what fucking sounded like in real life? Was Antoine actually fucking Tante Marise? My, already eager, cock certainly thought so. Just the other side of the door I could imagine Tante Marise, blouse open, those magnificent tits on display, lying back on the day couch with her legs spread wide, welcoming Antoine’s cock in her foufoune! Antoine for his part, I imagined, was clasping her naked buttocks in his giant hands as he thrust into her with rapidly mounting excitement. Fuck this was sexy! I stayed as long as I dared, getting more and more excited with this unexpected introduction to the magic sounds of copulation. I could hear their breathing becoming more rapid, their words of encouragement getting louder, the squeaking rhythm accelerating and yes: I came in my pants! I had hardly touched my cock but the sounds of two people actually fucking only a few feet away, combined with my boyish imagination, was more than I could stand. I hurried to my room to inspect the damage. Wow, what a lot of cum! It had already soaked through from my pants and there was a large wet patch on the front of my trousers. What to do? I didn’t normally go to bed this early and I certainly could not go back to the parlor in these trousers. I decided that getting into my pyjamas and going back down would be the best course of action, but first I put on clean under pants to keep my cock firmly locked up. Back in the TV room Tante Marise reappeared after I heard her show Antoine out with a cheery, “À la prochaine.” Or, until next time. What? There was going to be a next time? Were they going to do it again? Anyway, she sat down beside me, made some comment about my getting ready for bed early and we watched the TV. I could not stop my mind from wandering. She didn’t look any different! But she’d just been fucking! How could this be? She had just clearly enjoyed having Antoine thrusting between her thighs, an experience that I could only imagine, and here she sat as if nothing had happened. In fact, she seemed quite relaxed and serene, even. I am not sure what I expected, but certainly not this degree of blasé normality. It was just as well that I had pants on under my PJs because, try as I might, my mind kept wandering back to the scene I had just overheard. My first real encounter with sex. OK so I only overheard them having sex, but the memory was enough to give me another erection: oh the power of recovery of the teenager! As soon as possible I made my excuses and went to my room. I took off my PJs and pants and lay down on my back, stark naked, with my second erection of the evening. I felt the breeze from the open window playing on my naked body and, as the air wafted over my cock, and armed with a hanky, I set about re-playing the scene over and over in my mind. Her naked breasts, what were they like to touch? Her foufoune, what did it look like? Antoine’s hands on her bum as he thrust into her, what did that feel like? For him? For her? So many questions, so many vivid thoughts and then, as I continued to bring myself to orgasm, as slowly as possible, so as to prolong the enjoyment, the sensations started again and I knew I was about to cum. A few more strokes and I came, not as much as earlier, but a thoroughly good, satisfying, cum none the less. I cannot remember how often that memory played out in my mind over the coming days, but it was not infrequent! I could hardly wait until the following week, when I hoped there would be a repeat performance. For some reason the thought of Antoine’s massive hands clutching her pert little bottom still produces a stirring all these years later. The harvest continued in the blazing summer sun and we always returned to the chateau hot and sweaty. At the end of the corridor was the bathroom, which contained a magnificent, if somewhat antiquated, shower. Not one of those modern contraptions but something with more taps and valves than a First World War Submarine. It may have been antiquated but it was fantastically efficient. There were four vertical spray bars, with their independent controls and a drench overhead that produced a virtual tsunami. It was great for cooling off after a day in the orchards, turn the whole contraption on cold and walk in. COLD, yes: Freezing? Nearly: but enormously refreshing and, much to my surprise, nearly always produced an erection which, as a teenager, I freely confess, I almost never wasted when I got back to my room. The day’s work done, and getting ready for supper, I headed for my room, stripped off and wound a towel around my waist. What happened next changed my life, quite literally. I was half way along the corridor when the bathroom door opened. There, silhouetted in the doorway, was the totally naked form of Tante Marise. The incident, although it lasted only a few seconds, stays with me yet. Unfortunately the bathroom window was right behind the door, so a silhouette was nearly all I saw, but there was enough detail to see that girls have hair 'down there.’ Not to mention that naked, unfettered, breasts have a motion all their own. Taken by surprise, I turned politely to avert my gaze and Tante Marise, retreated into the bathroom, only to emerge a few seconds later, modestly wrapped in a large towel. We crossed in the corridor and she muttered. “Désolé.” Désolé! Why was she sorry for one of the most exciting moments of my young life. My embarrassment was only compounded buy my automatic response. “De rien!” It’s nothing! Nothing! I had just seen my first full frontal naked female and said that it was nothing! I had been so embarrassed, I hadn’t had time to think, so I scurried into the bathroom, turned on all elements of the shower to full cold, dived in and set to work on the erection that the combined effects of the cold water and the image of a totally naked Tante Marise had produced. We overcame our embarrassment at supper by ignoring the incident and settled down to watch TV afterwards. Antoine had not reappeared and over a week had passed. What a disappointment! I was not going to be treated to episode two of 'Tante Marise enjoys a noisy shag.’ Oh well, the flash of her naked body had made up for it and surely one orgasm an evening should be enough for any teenager, or maybe just one more when I get back upstairs? This particular night produced another film in the series that had so affected me the previous week. More French erotica! But this time sitting next to Tante Marise, which made my excitement much harder to conceal. As the plot developed it was quite clear that our heroine was about to seduce her co-star. Their clothes had been shed and the obligatory rear view of a naked woman advancing on her lucky prey, filled the screen. They were clearly just about to fuck. This was getting difficult to deal with. I had not long ago seen Tante Marise in just such a state, but from the front. The whole thing, hair and all! But sitting next to her, watching this level of sexual activity had caused a predictable response from my young 'bitte’. It is very easy to forget how little it takes to provoke an erection in the sexually inexperienced. Just as the sex act was about to take place, Tante Marise placed her hand on my knee, leaned forwards, turned and looked into my eyes with a beguiling smile and said. “ Un peu racé, non?” A little racy? This was torrid beyond my wildest dreams. Then she stunned me by taking my hand and placing it on her covered breast. Not another word was spoken, she just lifted my hand and put it there. OK she had on a loose dress, but no bra. My first experience of an adult female breast. I probably made a mess of it, but it was so exciting, warm, soft and pliable with that little hard bud on the end. What is happening? I would like to say that I played expertly with it, but that would not be true. In the actual event I summoned up all my courage and slid my hand in through the opening at the front of her dress. I touched a naked breast for the first time, and lightly ran my open palm over her nipple. It is hard to imagine now, after a lifetime of sexual activity, how exciting this was. Tante Marise, meanwhile slid her hand from my knee up towards my groin. I do not know if I was normal or not, but stories of boys first time sexual encounters lasting for ages, or even minutes, just do not ring true to me. I am fondling my first breast and Tante Marise is sliding her hand up my fully clothed thigh. It got as far as my crotch, only just lightly brushed over my cock: the tension was unbearable. I came! She must have sensed the spasm of my orgasm as she leaned forward, kissed me on the forehead and said. “I think it is time you to go to your room.” The next morning at breakfast I just didn’t know where to look. I had stroked Tante Marise’s naked breasts the previous evening and had orgasmed in front of her. She was totally unabashed about the incident and even teased me by asking, “So you had the pleasant dreams, no?” The harvest progressed in the incessant heat. Showers were taken after the hot sweaty work, but the vision of a naked Tante Marise was never repeated. More TV programmes were watched, seldom as racy as that fateful night, but some were pretty hot. By now we had reached a comfortable arrangement. If the film got raunchy she would take my hand and place it on her breast while allowing her hand to find its way to my crotch and I had mustered enough self control not to ejaculate on the spot. To be honest, usually by bringing myself off before going to the parlor to watch TV. On my final evening, during a film, while I was fondling her breast and getting more and more excited, she completely threw me by asking directly. “How is it that you like to make the masturbations?” The French language can be a little direct sometimes. After the usual blustering and denials, she chided me by telling me that it was 'healthy to make the masturbations.’ Her openness on matters sexual left me aghast. I eventually admitted that I did it lying on my back on my bed, with a hanky to make sure I didn’t leave a mark on the bedding. My admission was met with one word, “Viens, which means come.” She took my hand and stood up. I had to idea where this was leading but I had high hopes and so did my erection. We passed the Bureau, and climbed the stairs, we went past her room and along the corridor past mine, all the way to the bathroom at the end. She opened the door and ushered me ahead of her, allowing the door to close behind us. She set the knobs and levers of the WWI Submarine which sprang into life, at which point she stood right in front of me, slid the straps of her dress over her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Tante Marise dressed only in panties! Dressed only in panties, but not for long. She looked up at me with that wonderful smile and lowered them to the floor. I couldn’t help staring at the luxuriant dark triangle between her legs. Triangle, breasts, triangle, face, triangle! My eyes went berserk. “Viens, viens. Clothes off!” I struggled to get my clothes off with any degree of finesse, and getting my pants off, over my raging erection, while under the direct gaze of Tante Marise felt, as the French say, bizarre. Then there I was naked, standing beside my first totally naked female, who was also the first person ever to see my penis erect and erect it certainly was, the tip was all but touching my navel. “This is special.” She said, as she took me by the hand and lead me into the steaming torrent. Water cascaded everywhere as she directed a soaping operation. We soaped each other under her expert instructions. I soaped her back and felt the glorious sensation of my hands flowing over her buttocks. She returned the pleasure. I never realized how sexy it felt when your buttocks got a soapy wash. I could hardly wait to get to her breasts, they felt completely different with the water and soap flowing freely. Her nipples felt larger and definitely harder. She also allowed my hand to wander into the luxuriant triangle between her legs. I really had only the vaguest idea of what I would find there. Biology books are not that informative, but the biggest surprise was to find that my finger slipped easily into her foufoune, which was unexpectedly slippery and welcoming. I was extremely careful not to touch my cock and desperately hoped she would not touch it either, or I would cum on the spot. I just wanted this to go on for as long as possible. It could not last for ever though, and eventually she maneuvered behind me with a hand full of soap, rubbed it gently over my chest and stomach getting tantalizingly lower with each pas

Discovering Amy: Part 2

AMY GIVES HER FIRST BLOWJOB. In 2 parts, by Djmac1031 [https://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=6125486&page=submissions]. Listen to the ► podcast [https://archive.org/download/spring-short-stories/DiscoveringAmy2c.mp3] at Steamy Stories [http://feeds.feedburner.com/Steamy-Stories] [https://archive.org/download/spring-short-stories/DiscoveringAmy2.jpg] Tommy sat by the edge of the pool, alone with his thoughts as he waited for Amy to come back out of the house. Both of them had made it back unseen and unquestioned from their little secret getaway into the woods. He had just gotten back poolside when Amy’s best friend Cindy came over to him. “If you’re looking for Amy, I just passed her in the house a minute ago,” Cindy said. “She looked kind of strange, and freaked out a little. You two love birds aren’t fighting or something are you?”Tommy sighed inwardly. Cindy was a good friend to Amy, but she was always so damn nosy. She’d been “shipping” the both of them since long before “shipping” had become a catchphrase, and a stupid one at that, Tommy thought. “No, of course not,” Tommy replied, as casually as he could. “I haven’t seen her since the Marco / Polo game broke up a while ago and everybody wandered off.” Cindy looked skeptical. “Thought I saw you two still chatting after I got out of the pool,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “You sure somethings not up? You better not have upset my bestie!” she growled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tommy said, a little too defensively. “I’m gonna talk to her about it later tonight, ya know. I’m sleeping over. I’ll get her to dish, whatever it is, you know that right?” Cindy claimed boldly. Tommy shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “You guys have fun, talk about whatever you want, I don’t care.” Cindy gave him a look that said she didn’t quite believe that, then spun and walked away. Tommy watched her leave, relieved she was finally gone. He caught himself looking at her plump ass as she retreated, then quickly averted his eyes. Cindy was cute, even beautiful he had to admit. If he was being honest with himself, he found her attractive sexually. But he certainly didn’t have any feelings for her. Not like he had for Amy. Tommy’s thoughts drifted back to Amy, and their time alone in the woods, and what they’d done together, a series of firsts for both of them. He thought of her final words to him before she left the wooded path for the house: “I love you too.” Was it love, he thought? It was certainly more than just some teenage “crush.” Was it just sexual? No, he thought. He’d had feelings for her long before what became their first sexual explorations together this evening. He was just finally getting around to admitting it to himself, and understanding that Amy had these same feelings too. It was all so new, so confusing. But exciting too, he had to admit. He sat there alone, feet in the water, thinking about all of that, and trying not to think about the handjob Amy had given him just minutes ago, or about seeing and touching her breasts for the first time. The last thing he wanted was to pitch another tent right there by the side of the pool. He looked up from his thoughts and saw Amy’s mom heading into the house. Tommy had a moment of panic. He hoped Amy was done doing, well, whatever she was doing in there. She’d been gone awhile. But he supposed she had to clean up the mess he’d made. She was probably washing her suit and towel out, making sure no telltale stains were left behind. He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until he saw Amy bound out the door and down the steps into the yard, and he let it out in a rush of relief. She looked happy and carefree enough, so if she’d encountered her mom it must have gone okay. Amy paused, looking around, and her face lit up in a radiant smile when she spotted him. Amy had to keep herself from running over to Tommy. She felt like she was floating over the grass, not simply stepping across it as she walked towards him, butterflies in her stomach. He stood as she approached, and it struck her, not for the first time, just how handsome he was. His eyes were a strange but beautiful combo of green and brown, with yellow flecks you could only see up close. His hair was a darker blonde than hers, although it was lightened now by the sun and spiky in a short summer cut. His body was lean and lanky, with wide shoulders and long legs. While not super muscular, what he had was lean and firm and strong from the various forms of physical work he always seemed to be doing. Amy’s eyes traveled down his hairless chest to his stomach, then (not for the first time) to that hint of a V shape that started just under his abs, pointing the way towards his, “No, stop, not now,” Amy thought. “That way madness lies,” she laughed to herself, remembering her Shakespeare. She hoped he hadn’t caught her looking, then realized maybe she wouldn’t mind so much if he had anyway. His eyes seemed fixed on her as she approached, and they were speckled moonlight. Amy felt her heart flutter and a tingle between her legs. “Oh girl,” she thought. “If this is love, you’re in trouble,” she groaned inwardly. Then they were together, standing face to face. Amy desperately wanted to hug him, to kiss him, but they both knew they couldn’t risk such open displays of affection just now. So she instead simply spoke, “Hey there.” “Hey,” Tommy replied, almost a whisper. They both stood there, smiling like, well, two young lovers. Neither knew what to say next. Tommy broke the silence. “Wanna get a snack?” “I’d love to,” was her reply. They spent the rest of the party almost entirely by each other’s side. Oh they socialized, chatted with their other friends, even played horseshoes for a while. But they we’re always at least close by, making eye contact and sharing secret smiles. The party eventually started to wind down, and people began saying their goodbyes. Tommy kept a respectful distance as many were approaching Amy to congratulate her and say goodnight. She stood for a while with her parents, thanking each guest in turn for coming and for their thoughtful gifts, etc. He felt a sudden tap on his shoulder. It was his mother. “Hey sport, I’m gonna go. Do you want a ride back with me or are you staying for a bit?” They only lived a few blocks away, an easy walking distance, but his mom had driven so she could bring over the food she’d volunteered to make and the graduation gifts they’d gotten for Amy. “Is it okay if I stay a bit? Amy’s parents said it was okay if a few of us stayed and watched a movie,” I explained. “I can walk home after, no problem. It’s a nice night.” Mom looked at him and grinned. “Wanna spend more time with Amy, huh?” she said knowingly. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how much time you two have been spending together lately.” Tommy gulped but said nothing. His mother relented. “Well, okay. I trust you, and I trust Amy’s parents. You won’t get into too much trouble I think. Just behave yourself, you hear? Be a good gentleman. And be home by midnight.” Tommy smiled and nodded. “Sure mom, you bet. Thanks.” “Just remember: God is watching you.” And with that she turned to make her goodbyes to Amy and her parents. “Yeah, well, we gave him a hell of a show earlier then,” Tommy thought to himself, and had to stifle a laugh. The popcorn was made, some fruit juice poured, (“You guys have had enough soda for one day” Amy’s mom had said, stern but kindly) and they were settling down to watch the movie. The only person who wound up staying besides Tommy was Cindy, who of course was sleeping over. Amy and Cindy were on the center couch. Tommy sat alone in a recliner chair off to the side, as Amy’s parents came in from the kitchen. “We’re heading up to bed now,” Amy’s dad started. “We expect you kids to behave yourself.” Amy’s mom turned and looked directly at Tommy. “I expect you’ll be a gentleman and show respect for our house?” she asked him. “Yes ma'am, yes sir,” Tommy replied, addressing both parents. Mom nodded, then turned to Cindy. “Cindy, you’re chaperone. Keep a watch over these two. They’ve been making eyes at each other all night.” “Mom!” Amy cried, embarrassed. “What? You thought we didn’t notice? We’re not as blind as you think we are,” her mom shot back. Amy flushed crimson, but said nothing more. “Cindy?” Mom continued, “you heard me right? You’re on guard duty. Understand?” Cindy barely contained her eye roll but nodded and replied, “Yes ma'am, of course.” “Just remember,” Dad said suddenly, “leave room for the Holy Spirit,” and looking directly at Tommy, dropped him a wink and smiled. Tommy gulped. He had no clue what to make of that at all, so he simply nodded. Mom threw dad a sharp glare and his smile quickly faded. “Straight home after the movie young man, you understand me?” Mom said. “Yes ma'am, I understand,” Tommy replied. Then they both gave Amy a kiss on the cheek and went upstairs to their bedroom. The room was silent for several moments after they left, finally broken by Cindy. “Well that was awkward,” she blurted. They all laughed, breaking the tension. They’d all changed into some dry clothes earlier, (Tommy had only just remembered to fetch his from his mom’s car before she left) and Tommy couldn’t help but notice how cute Amy looked in her sleepwear; a pink Hello Kitty pajama top and matching shorts. It was, as all her outfits were, modest, but it left her shoulders bare and he could see the tan lines made by her bathing suit. Suddenly he was thinking about her breasts, exposed and pale in the moonlight, as she’d slowly slipped down the straps, He was snapped out of this memory by a voice. “Tommy? Earth to Tommy!” It was Cindy. “You can’t see the TV well from there. Come sit on the couch with us. I’ll scoot over, you can sit next to Amy.” She smiled wryly, and Amy elbowed her good naturedly, but put up no further argument. “Yeah, sure, makes sense,” Tommy said casually, trying not to sound too eager. The girls scooted over and he sat down next to Amy, who was now in the middle, Cindy to her left at the other end. Their hips touched as he sat, and he awkwardly tried to figure out what to do with his left arm. He decided to put it around Amy’s shoulders. He made sure to keep his hand up on the couch, a safe distance from the tempting curve of her breast. Amy settled her head on Tommy’s shoulder, sighing almost imperceptibly in contentment. Cindy heard it though, and this time did not contain her eye roll, but smiled knowingly. They watched the movie like that for a while, in silence. It was some rom-com the girls had picked out, one of their favorites. Tommy didn’t really care what they picked. He wasn’t there for the movie. It was a PG film and a pretty tame one at that. No sex or nudity of course. Although there were a couple of kissing scenes and during them Tommy could feel Amy shifting slightly under his arm, and knew exactly what she was thinking. About an hour into the movie, Cindy suddenly stood up. Making a show of stretching (Tommy could not help but notice the way her large breasts pushed out from her less modest tank top, despite himself) and, mock yawning, turned to address them. “I’m tired, I think I’m gonna go to bed,” she announced, looking slyly at Tommy for a second. Then to Amy she added, “your parents bedroom is right across the hall from yours. Keep your cell phone nearby. If I hear them stir, I’ll text you.” Turning back to Tommy, she said, “There’s about 30 minutes left in this movie. If Amy’s not upstairs and in her bed in 35, I’m personally knocking on her parents door and waking them up.” “I know your parents told me to chaperone,” she continued, “but I figure if God sees all, let Him keep an eye on you two.” And with a sly wink and a totally knowing grin, she turned and went upstairs. Tommy and Amy both sat silent and shocked as they watched her go. Tommy broke the silence. “I, I can’t believe she just did that,” he muttered. Amy just sighed, cupped his face with her hand, turned it towards her own, and whispered, “she’s a good friend.” And just like that they were kissing. Tommy’s mind was spinning happily. She smelled so good, clean and fresh after her earlier shower. Some kind of floral scented shampoo, he thought, and he also caught a hint of what he guessed was perfume; a light, almost fruity scent. Her hair was loose, wavy, and flowing around her face and neck. He could taste her lip gloss, sweet with a hint of cinnamon. It wasn’t long before the arm he still had half on the couch dropped to a more comfortable, intimate position. Breaking the kiss a moment, he looked at her, head tilted, eyes questioning. No words were needed. She simply nodded her consent and shifted herself into a better position for his hand to gently cup her breast. Again he felt her hard little nipple underneath her shirt, already swollen. He could see her neck and what little skin that was exposed just above her chest flush with excitement as she squirmed under his touch. His hand then slid under the soft cotton fabric and found the bare skin of her breast beneath. He was surprised she wasn’t wearing a bra, but supposed the top was generally modest enough that she didn’t need one. Or, he speculated, she’d left it off on purpose. Amy rested her head back on the couch and closed her eyes, focusing on the incredible sensations, as his hand explored her firm young flesh. He was so gentle, and every time his fingers found her nipples her body jerked as if shocked. Tommy’s voice broke through her trance, whispering. “Amy, are you okay? Tell me if I hurt you, or,” “I’m fine, just, sensitive,” she stammered. She opened her eyes, imploring, “don’t stop, please.” She leaned in, finding his lips again. As they continued making out, he felt her hand land on his upper thigh, slowly moving towards his crotch. The loose fitting shorts he was wearing were containing his throbbing erection, but just barely. Then her hand was over it, feeling it’s length for the second time that night. Suddenly she was tugging at his waistband, trying desperately to free it. It took all of his willpower to grasp her hand and remove it. “Amy, we can’t. It’s too risky. And too, messy.” She groaned and frowned. “I know, but,” Tommy lifted her chin up to face him, and spoke softly, lovingly. “Amy, I want it too, but we have to be smart. If your parents walked in on us with my pants down, or if I made a mess again all over your couch,” he paused, removed his hand from her breast, and with one finger made the “throat cutting” gesture across his neck. She nodded, regretfully. “Yeah, you’re right. Dammit.” They sat quietly for a moment, just holding each other. She looked at him suddenly, with a determined glint in her eye. “Would you,” she paused, licked her lips, swallowed nervously, started again: “Would you, touch me, somewhere else?” Her voice was a weak whisper. “Where?” said Tommy, not getting it yet. Amy smiled shyly, looked down, and slowly parted her legs. Understanding dawned in his eyes. A huge grin spread on his face, but was quickly replaced by gentle concern. “Are you sure?” he asked sweetly. “Because I don’t want to pressure you, or make you feel like you have to,” Amy cut him off sharply but lovingly. “Tommy, if you don’t touch my Kitty right now I’ll wind up screaming in frustration. Please. I need this.” Her voice was a harsh whisper that contained a desperation he’d never heard from her before. Tommy was utterly taken aback by this outburst. Then he broke into a goofy grin. “Your kitty?” he said incredulously. Amy flushed with embarrassment. “It’s what, it’s what I’ve always, called, it. I know, it’s silly.” “It’s adorable,” said Tommy, “and so are you.” His hand went to the bare skin of her right thigh, slowly caressing her soft, tan skin. Her breathing became heavier as his hand slid higher up her thigh, finding the hem in the leg of her pajama shorts, then slipped under it. His fingers found the edge of her panties where they met her thigh, then paused. She moaned, put her hand on his, pushed it further. “Please,” she groaned, “please keep going.” His fingers started to work their way under the edge of her panties when she suddenly stopped him. “Just don’t, just don’t push your fingers, inside. Not all the way, okay? I’m still a virgin, and I wanna stay that way for now. At least till we’re ready to,” she stopped herself, then shrugged, “, well you know. Touch anywhere else you want, just don’t push inside, okay?” Tommy nodded, understanding. He knew enough about the female anatomy to understand what the hymen was and how it could be broken. He certainly didn’t want to push Amy beyond what she was ready for. “Don’t worry, I don’t ever want to hurt you, Amy. Please tell me if I do. And stop me if I go too far. I’ve never done this, and I want it to be right,” he said. “Just touch me,” she hissed. “I’ll guide you if needed, okay?” Without further hesitation, his hand slid up again, finding her panties, but instead of going under them he suddenly changed direction and went over the fabric, cupping her entire “Kitty” in his palm. What he found was warm, almost hot, and he could feel moisture seeping its way through the gusset, warm and slippery like a lotion or oil. He looked at her with happy confusion, and she smiled. “It gets that way sometimes. When it’s, excited.” She winked at him wickedly. “But you’re torturing me, Tommy. Here, let me just,” With a quick move, her hand was suddenly inside her pajama shorts, and with a jerk she pulled her panties aside, allowing him easier access. He instantly felt the hot wet flesh of her virgin cunt under the palm of his hand. He wasn’t sure who gasped louder at the moment of contact, him or her. Amy’s eyes rolled back in her head as his fingers started to explore her soft folds. Tommy was mesmerized by what he was feeling. His fingers gently probed and explored her swollen labia, then found where they separated as his fingers slipped between them, locating the entrance to her vagina. He stopped there, remembering his promise not to probe too deep. Cautiously, he stuck a finger tip in, then looked at Amy. “This okay? Not too much?” Her breath was hitching, as she struggled to keep quiet despite the immense pleasure. “Ya, yes, it’s fine,” she stammered. “Juh, just a little deeper. There, stop! Now just slide it in and out a bit.” He followed her instructions and she closed her eyes again, imagining, as she had when she’d masturbated earlier, that it was the tip of his cock sliding in and out of her virgin hole. She felt like a fire hydrant the way she was gushing from the gentle fingering. Tommy felt it too. “It’s so wet,” he said, his voice a low marvel. “I know, sorry,” she stuttered, barely able to speak. “Don’t be,” he whispered in her ear. “I got you way messier earlier, remember? Besides, I’m assuming this means I’m doing a good job, right?” “Oh, yes, yes you, oh, oh God, don’t stop, a little faster, oh, oh Jesus, I’m gonna,” Amy suddenly bit down on her lip so hard she thought it might bleed, as she felt the wave of her orgasm hit her, knocking her head back against the couch, her arm squeezing Tommy’s waist so tight he could barely breathe, her other hand flying to her mouth to cover her scream as her body shook uncontrollably. “Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop,” her voice came muffled from under her hand as she felt a fireball of pleasure spread outwardly from her vagina, simultaneously up towards her head and down to her toes. Then her sounds were no longer words, but high pitched squeals. Her body rocked forward, then back, then shook with what looked like a convulsion. Her eyes rolled back in her head. Amy gives her first blowjob. Amy had be

Discovering Amy: Part 1

TWO LIFE LONG FRIENDS START TO EXPLORE INTIMACY TOGETHER. In 2 parts, By D j mac 1031 [https://www.literotica.com/authors/Djmac1031/works/stories] - listen to the ► Podcast [https://archive.org/download/spring-short-stories/DiscoveringAmy1c.mp3] at Connected [https://feeds.feedburner.com/connected-podcast]. [https://archive.org/download/spring-short-stories/DiscoveringAmy1.jpg] The pool party had been going on for several hours, and it was well after dark, when Amy asked me if I’d wanted to go for a walk in the woods behind the house. She was 18, I was 19, but we’d known each other since we were toddlers, our families being very close and part of the same church group. The party was to celebrate her high school graduation (I graduated the year before) and was mainly our families along with some of our mutual friends from church and school. As I said, we’d been friends for a long time, but it was only in recent months that things seemed to change between us. Talking about our futures, our questions of what we wanted to do with our lives, our secret bonding over our mutual distaste of our parents’ particular brand of religion, had brought us closer together as friends, but also somehow felt more than ‘just’ friends. I’d certainly started noticing her beautiful body more recently as well. Amy was blonde, with curly shoulder length locks, now damp around her face. Blue eyes that almost matched the pool water we were currently floating in. Her one-piece bathing suit was modest (I’m sure her parents had some say in that) but still couldn’t help but highlight the curves of her perfect apple sized breasts, or the roundness of her ass that hadn’t quite lost its “baby fat” yet. She was well tanned of course; it was her pool and she spent a lot of time sunning herself when she wasn’t actually swimming in it. We’d been playing Marco Polo for awhile along with our friends, and there was the usual silliness, splashing, and occasional “accidental” groping of random body parts as we all chased each other around the pool, taking turns being the “blind” player. My hands had found Amy’s body on more than a few occasions when it was my turn. I was starting to think she was letting me catch her just so my hands could brush against her hips, her back, and yes once right across her round bubble ass. We’d been taking a break from the game and just floating nearby each other, catching our breath, when she asked about going for the walk. Most of our friends had left the pool already, getting snacks or drinks or just drying off. “You really wanna?” I asked, surprised. We’d been spending a lot of time together recently, but both of us having very religious conservative parents made it difficult to actually pursue any kind of true dating relationship. We weren’t girlfriend and boyfriend yet, not by any stretch, but had certainly progressed beyond mere childhood friends in the past several weeks. I still remember my surprise when she kissed me right on the lips at her graduation ceremony just a few days ago. Oh it was quick, and she’d been hugging and kissing lots of folks. But it wasn’t accidental on her part and it certainly didn’t feel platonic. “Yeah, come on, it’ll be fun, I promise,” she replied. The smile on her face was mischievous to say the least. I was a bit scared honestly. Both our parents would freak out if they caught us sneaking off together. I honestly couldn’t wait to get out of my house and away from all the religious nonsense. But until then I had to put up with their repressive bullshit that made it incredibly difficult for me to even consider dating any girls on a regular basis, let alone get laid. We climbed out of the pool, grabbed our towels, and took a look around. Our parents all seemed busy, chatting away with some of the other parents in attendance, drinking, laughing, and playing some card game. I didn’t think they’d notice us. “ Okay, let’s go, lead the way I guess. You know these woods better than me.” Amy didn’t hesitate. She took my hand and led me to a little path that was barely visible in the dark. As we got to the edge by the tree line, we both took one more look around, saw no one noticing us, and quietly slipped through the trees and down the path. We hadn’t gone very far when we came to a little clearing. A few stumps marked where some trees had been cleared, and a small pile of wood to one side, apparently the remains of some makeshift fort. “My brothers cleared this spot years ago; they used to have sleep-outs in their fort. They never let me come here with them but I’ve always known about it. They eventually forgot about it as they got older, but I never did. It’s a nice spot to just get away and be alone for a while,” she explained. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool I guess” I said, then, awkwardly, “not that many bugs here.” She laughed. “I keep it clear here so it doesn’t get overgrown. And I sprayed some bug killer here earlier this afternoon. Just in case.” She had that mischievous grin again and a twinkle in her eye I couldn’t fathom. “In case what?” I asked stupidly. God, the cluelessness of a teenage boy. “In case this” she said, and suddenly she was in my arms, her lips pressed to mine. I froze for a moment, but thankfully, instinct took over, and I kissed her back. She broke the kiss after a few seconds, almost reluctantly. "I’ve been wanting to do that forever, you know. I’ve been waiting so long for the right moment.“ I smiled, hoping she couldn’t see how red my face was in the moonlight that shone down on us. "Wow. Well I’m, I’m glad you did Amy. That was, that was really, that was really nice.” I stuttered around the words like an idiot. “I’m glad you liked it. Because I wanna do it again.” She smiled, looking at me in anticipation. This time I made the move, pulling her gently by the waist, leaning down a bit (she was shorter than me) and moving in for another kiss. She met me halfway and once again our lips connected. We were both inexperienced, but we got the hang of it quickly. I tested her lips with my tongue; they parted and accepted it. She offered her tongue in return, and we explored, if a bit awkwardly, the art of French kissing. We’d break the kiss only for a few moments to look into each other’s eyes, smile, then right back at it. My hands up until that point had remained on her hips. Her arms were up around my neck and she was standing on her toes to help get some height. I decided to be a bit bolder, and slowly started moving my hands. First just slowly up then back down her sides. I repeated this move a few times and her body seemed to respond positively, so I got braver. My hands went back to her hips, then slowly around to her back. While the front of her suit was modest, the back was mostly open, allowing my hands to gently caress her soft, perfect skin. She broke the kiss and giggled, “that tickles!” “Sorry,” I said, lying. “I didn’t say stop, did I?” She replied softly, then started kissing me again. My hands continued rubbing her back, but now I was moving them in small slow circles, lower, and lower still, stopping just above her ass. I could feel her wriggling, trying to stand taller, and realized she was trying to actually move her ass UP and into my hands! I took her signal and went with it, sliding my hands down and finally cupping the perfect teen bubble ass I’d up until then been able to admire only with my eyes. “Mmm,” she moaned as she broke the kiss. “Finally. Took you long enough,” she giggled again playfully. “I was trying to be a gentleman,” I joked. “Well stop trying so hard” she shot back playfully. “Oh yeah?“ I said in mock annoyance. "Well then,” and with that I playfully grabbed her ass harder. What happened next happened quickly. My pull on her ass threw her off the balance of her toes, and she fell forward, right into me, our bodies touching fully for the first time. And that’s when I realized I had a massive erection. I felt her lower stomach lean right into it when she slipped, felt the simultaneous jolt of pain from the impact and pleasure from, well, the contact. She was laughing at first, then suddenly went quiet as she looked down, confused for a moment. Then her eyes went wide as she looked up at me. “Is that, is that your,” Now she was the one stuttering. "Is that what I think it is?“ She managed to get out. My face went beet red. "Yeah, um, look, sorry, I,” “It’s  okay” she cut in. “Did I, did I hurt you?” “No,” I replied. (it had hurt, but only a little really and I didn’t want to make her feel bad.) “Oh,  okay, good.” She said, biting her lip. We stood there in awkward silence for a moment. But she didn’t back away, and I certainly didn’t want her to. My cock was throbbing, straining against the fabric of my suit, and while separated by my suit and her own, I still enjoyed the contact of another person, especially my beautiful friend Amy, touching up against my penis, even if only indirectly. I didn’t want the moment to end. But I didn’t know how to continue. Amy finally broke the silence. "Is that, because of me?“ She asked shyly. "Yes” I managed. She pulled away from me and I almost groaned. I didn’t want her to move. But she only pulled back far enough to look down to see the tent pushing up from my swimsuit. Her eyes again went wide. “Wow. I mean I knew they got, bigger, when guys got, uh; but I didn’t think they’d get that, big, or,” She stopped, looking both confused and excited. I was embarrassed, yet also feeling a sense of pride, and excitement. My life-long friend was seeing my erected penis for the first time, even if it was covered by my suit, and it was giving her a good show. “Have you never seen a guys, you know, thing before?” I asked, hoping mine was truly her first. “Well, no, not really. A picture in a textbook once. but it was just a drawing, and not this big, or,” she paused. “Hard?” I finished for her. “Yeah,” she laughed. "I never saw a hard one, or a real one.“ She gulped. "Yeah, they’re usually smaller and soft, normally. But get much bigger and harder when, excited” I explained simply. “So you’re, excited, because of me?” “Yes,” I replied, “Amy, you’re so beautiful, and I’m so happy to be here, kissing you, and touching you. I’ve wanted this for a long time too, and now that it’s happening, I can’t help but get, well, turned on. I hope this doesn’t upset you.” “No, not at all. I, I love it” she said, grinning widely. “Can I, can I touch it? She stammered. My heart jumped. This is gonna happen? My brain screamed silently in joy. "Of course,” I managed to say, “I’d, I’d love that.” She came in closer to me again. I could smell the chlorine in her hair, but also just, well, her. Her bright face shined in the moonlight, beautiful, without a stitch of makeup on. Her left arm went around my hip to my back, and with her right, she slowly, tentatively, reached out and placed the palm of her hand over the bulge of my suit. My cock jumped immediately at her touch, and she was startled, pulling her hand back in surprise. “It moved!” She gasped. “Wait, it, it moves?” “Yeah it does that,” I smiled, begging silently for her to touch it again. She burst out laughing. “Oh my God, that’s great! It moves!” She laughed so loud I was afraid the whole party behind us would hear. “Shush,” I whispered, and she tried to contain herself, finally quieting to the occasional giggle. Her hand reached out, more boldly this time, and again my throbbing member jumped at her touch, but this time she didn’t pull away. Instead, she started gently rubbing it with the palm of her hand. It bobbed and twitched with her movements and she smiled brightly, like a kid on Christmas with a new toy, enjoying how it responded to her touch. I was enjoying it too. Not exactly the way I did it on my own of course, but hell, any touching was good touching, when it came to a beautiful girl with her hand on your cock. “Does that, does it feel, good?” She asked shyly. “Oh god yes, Amy. It feels amazing, so so good! Please don’t stop.” I begged. She smiled such a beautiful smile, and continued exploring. “I want to, I wanna see it” she said suddenly. I felt I must be dreaming. If so, please, whatever you do, God, be merciful, please don’t wake me up now! I couldn’t even manage the words so just nodded, and she slowly tugged down my suit, struggling a bit to get it over the protruding obstacle, until I helped by undoing the string and tugging with her. It suddenly popped out, springing upward in all its full glory. She had to stifle another laugh; not a cruel one, mocking me, but a joyful, playful excited laugh that spoke to how thrilled she was to finally see it. “Wow! Holy crap!” She whispered. “It looks even bigger in person! And so, veiny! Are you sure that’s not painful? It looks so swollen!” “Not painful at all, it actually feels really pleasurable, and very sensitive to, being touched” I said, hinting at what I hoped she’d get back to. She grinned wickedly and took the hint, and her hand again reached for my cock. Within moments I was feeling, for the first time ever, the incredible feeling of skin on skin contact from someone other than myself touching my cock. Now, she was using her fingers, running them up my shaft, tracing their way to the tip, then, back down. My body was literally shaking in bliss. Suddenly she giggled again. “What’s so funny now?” I asked, not harshly. “I just now noticed your, what’s the word? Testicles, right? They’re, don’t be mad, please, but they’re just silly looking. Like little balls in a sack.” “Yeah well that’s why we call them balls,” I laughed. "And it’s okay, I’m not mad. They are kinda goofy looking.“ Her hand cupped them gently, and she looked up at me, questioning. "Is this okay? I don’t wanna hurt them, I know it can really hurt a guy getting hit there.” “You’re fine, just be gentle with them, don’t squeeze, just rub,” I said. She gently rubbed them for a few seconds, feeling their weight, being very careful. “What feels better, touching your, balls, or your,?” She must have felt embarrassed to say penis or cock or whatever other term, because she just gestured at my twitching member. “My cock?” I said, seeing how she’d react if I said it. She flinched at the word, not used to using or hearing the “dirty” words too often I suppose. “Yeah, your, cock,” she repeated, trying out the word, then deciding she liked it. “Your big hard cock.” Her face had that wicked grin again. “Yeah touching my cock feels better, honestly,” I grinned back. “Especially when you are touching it.” She took that as an invitation to continue. “Tell me how to, to touch it the way, the way you like,” she asked nervously. “Okay. Well,” I paused, then continued, “what you were doing felt really good, but it’s better if you, well, here, let me show you.” And with that I took her hand and guided it into the more familiar grip around my shaft, then showed her how to stroke it, pulling the skin gently up around the tip, then back, the way every guy figures out how to do as soon as he hits puberty. She got the hang of it pretty quickly and I let go, allowing her to continue at her own pace. “It feels so warm,” she gasped, “and, I can feel your pulse in it” she marveled. Suddenly she looked up at me. “It’s, beautiful.” She said, then kissed me. I pulled her in close as we kissed, her hand never letting go. I was close to cumming, I knew I wouldn’t last much longer if she kept going. I grabbed her hand and made her pause, trying to extend the moment. She looked up at me questioningly. “Just needed a pause for a second.” I explained. Suddenly, I had a thought. “Can I,?” I stammered, as I moved my hand towards her beautiful firm boobs, waiting for her consent. She bit her lip, then nodded. “Yes,” she whispered. I touched her breast gently, my hand over her suit still, heard her gasp, felt her shudder. I could feel her nipple, stiff and swollen, poking through the fabric. Her hand suddenly left my cock, and I looked at her, curious. She simply smiled then reached up and slowly slipped the shoulder straps of her bathing suit down. She hesitated for only a moment, then continued, exposing to my delighted eyes her firm, young breasts for the first time. They stood, perky and oh so round, their pale pinkness a sharp contrast to the rest of her tanned skin. Her nipples were tiny points sticking up from the middle of her light pink, puffy areolas. My face must have been interesting; with my mouth agape and my eyes wide, because she giggled again, nervously. “Do you like them?” She asked quietly. “They’re beautiful. Just like you Amy,” I replied lovingly. She blushed but smiled. With my left arm still holding her close, my right hand again found her perfect tits. I went from one to the other, alternating between a gentle caress and soft squeezes. I could feel her heart racing beneath her left breast. I gently rolled her left nipple between my fingers, then gave it a slight tug. She gasped in surprise and (I’d hoped) pleasure. “Was that  okay? I didn’t hurt you?” I asked, concerned. “No, I’m fine, it felt good, just, sensitive,” she managed to say, breathing heavily. We kissed again, and then I felt her hand return to stroking my throbbing boner. After about another minute or two of this, her stroking my cock, me playing with her breasts, I felt the familiar sensation of my climax approaching, knowing I would not be able to hold it back any longer. “Amy,” I gasped, breathing heavy, “you’re going to make me, oh God, I can’t hold it back,” I moaned, tried not to scream my pleasure, and m