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Matching Day: Part 1

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aflevering Matching Day: Part 1 artwork

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MATCHING DAY: PART 1 TO LOVE RISKS MORE THAN JUST HER HEART. Based on a post by SmallTownPrincess [https://www.literotica.com/authors/SmallTownPrincess/works], in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/Spring-2025/MatchingDay1.mp3] at Connected [https://feeds.feedburner.com/connected-podcast]. [https://archive.org/download/Spring-2025/MatchingDay1.jpg] Girls spend their entire lives looking forward to the fateful Matching Day - and whether or not they will admit it, boys, too, have at least a healthy curiosity. It's so reassuring, knowing that in your eighteenth year, you and your age-mates will be paired off, brought together with another from their own community or a surrounding one that match them perfectly. No song-and-dance dating rituals, like the ones in the books Livia liked to read, no old maids, no riotous bachelors; just simple, comforting compatibility. "Have you heard?" The hushed, conspiratorial tones issued from the pink-lacquered lips of Livia's best friend, Mara. "What?" Livia's low-pitched voice always made her sound disinterested, but she paid close attention to Mara when her friend sounded this urgent. "There was a big accident over in Micrague. One guy died!" "Oh, that's terrible," Livia murmured, letting her eyelashes drop and rise again to half-mast in a brief show of empathy. It was all she had time for, as Mara leaned suddenly, ever more urgently forward, gripping Livia's arm in both hands. "That's not the worst thing," she rolled on. "The guy who was killed? He just turned eighteen. That makes the numbers for tomorrow's Matching uneven!" Two full breaths, painful to the impatient Mara, passed before Livia spoke in response. "So, what, someone won't be paired? A girl will be left without her match?" "Whoever matched with him will have no pair on Matching Day," Mara proclaimed ominously. Her eyes were wide and glittering with morbid excitement. "What do they do about that?" It was unheard of, as far as Livia knew; there were always even numbers, always a perfect match for everyone. Mara gave an exaggerated shrug. "Maybe she'll never be matched." Livia was surprised into laughter. "They can't leave her without a match forever," she said with certainty. "Maybe they'll search out another community for someone that fits even better than that poor boy who died." Her reassuring confidence sent Mara, humming, away to terrify someone else with proclamations of an eternity alone for some poor girl. The thought nagged at Livia for the rest of the afternoon, though. What if he was matched with me? "Verin Massada," the stern voice called from the central platform, and a stick-thin brunette drifted toward the three steps that lifted her above the circle of impatient teenagers. "Philip Pressia." The broad-shouldered redhead that stepped up to take Verin's hand smirked and bowed at the polite smattering of applause that ushered the happy new couple off the stage. Livia smiled approvingly; Verin needed a little more humor in her life. Livia watched each girl she'd grown up with walk back into the circle, shyly clutching the hand of her new mate, and twisted her skirt nervously in her fingers. It seemed forever before the 'R's were called, and the wad of boys brought in from all the different communities steadily shrank. She met the clear grey eyes of one of the remaining boys as Clanley Ritchell was met by a generic-looking, dark-haired boy, and she thought fleetingly, I hope I'm matched with him. He seemed to be thinking the same thing; his face fell a little when he was called up to greet a willowy blond on the dais. "Danica Soress," the voice demanded, and Livia stood a little straighter with a sharp intake of breath. Had she been skipped? All the vague, incoherent fears that had accompanied Mara's morbid pronouncement coursed through Livia, charged with shame as some girls recognized the omission and turned to look at her with expressions of varying pity. Livia felt on the edge of tears. She saw the blond - that wretched Salvia - pull the grey-eyed boy down to whisper cruelly in his ear and point in Livia's direction, and she contemplated melting into the dirt. With the blood roaring loudly in her ears, she heard no other names called, and stared fixedly at a nondescript blade of grass in front of her to avoid the glances that were flickering toward her. How can this be? she thought frantically. How can I not have a match? "Livia, what's going on?" Mara's face held ghoulish curiosity with only an edge of concern for her friend, and Livia couldn't deal with her. She turned without a word and marched to the fountain a good distance away from the platform. People were breaking off now, finding secluded spots to get to know this person with whom they'd be partnered forever. Livia, wrapping her arms tightly around her gut, had never felt so alone. How could she have lost a lifetime of companionship without ever tasting it? It was too, too cruel. What right did that boy have to take away everything in one fell swoop? How could he die? She wanted to shake her fist at the heavens, demand an explanation, but she just trailed her fingers through the rippling water in the fountain basin, swallowing hard against the wave of emotions that threatened to show itself grotesquely in her features. "His name was Bracken, if that helps," said a voice behind her, and she jumped, throwing water onto her dress. She turned to see that grey-eyed boy approaching, and she prepared herself for the humiliation she was sure to experience at his hands; he had, after all, been matched like everyone else, and she was alone - possibly forever. He did not mock her, though; his eyes held the soft, cautious understanding of someone who pitied another, but was not sure whether that person desired sympathy or not. When she said nothing, he shrugged self-consciously. "Sorry, I realize you might not have wanted to know. I just, he was my best friend. I thought if you did want to know about him, I'd at least let you know who you could ask." A flood of gratitude made it temporarily impossible for her to speak, and then she forced a smile. "I think I'd like to know," she said hesitantly. She wasn't sure; would it be better to know nothing about what she'd never have, or to at least have pleasant thoughts about what could've been? "Can I ask you something now?" "Absolutely." "Would I have liked him?" The boy nodded. "I think so. He was quiet at first, it took a while to get to know him. But once you did, there was no one you trusted more." He added, with the hesitation of an afterthought but the seriousness of something he'd intended to say all along, "Seeing you here, there's no doubt that he would have liked you." He gave Livia one last smile and lay his hand over hers for a moment, ignoring the water droplets that sat on it like dew. For a warm second, she felt a rush of what it might have been like to have someone get to know her intimately over a lifetime, to love and understand her and for her to love back, and then the grey-eyed boy was walking with wide strides back to Salvia, and nothing but a hollow sadness remained beneath her breastbone. Livia hated them. All of them. The girls with their softly rolling curls, teased and coached for hours in order to look casually delicate when the boys, their shirts tucked in and their shoes shined, arrived at their doorsteps carrying one or two or twenty flowers in one hand and a shining invitation in the other. They walked with springing steps the short distance to the gathering hall in the center of town, hand in hand or arm in arm, and Livia wanted to throw rocks at the whole lot of them. She had been invited, sort of, to join in on the festivities. The community officials, not sure what to do with the first single person over eighteen in a century, had hesitantly allowed for her participation in all the new couples' activities; so far, she had partaken in none of them. Desperately, she wanted to be a part of the revelry, but she could not force herself to walk into the rooms full of happy girls and their happy boys, and have nothing herself. Her mother, unable to comfort her, had begged her to go to the dance. It was the last night before all the boys would be returning to their own communities, taking their matches with them. It was the last night she would seek Mara, who had paired with a boy from Onek. And she'd tried: she'd gotten dressed, piled her hair up on top of her head and pulled her elbow-length gloves on, but nothing could motivate her to step outside her house as streams of giggling lovebirds trickled by on the way to the hall. "Go, Livia," her mother said, coming up behind her with a basket of laundry on her hip. "You should at least go long enough to say goodbye to Mara." "I can't, Mama. Think of how they'll look at me!" Her mother bent Livia's head down to kiss her on the forehead. "It's not your fault, Neinei, and they know that. They feel bad for you. They all want to see you. The world didn't end when that poor boy died." "Bracken," Livia said defiantly. Her mother had refused to say his name, insisting that it was better for Livia to know nothing about what she had lost. Patting her daughter's shoulder, she adjusted her basket and turned to leave. "Go." Livia had retreated around the side of the gathering hall, standing just outside the golden pool of light that poured like honey from the windows. Sobs caught in her throat and were choked down, unvoiced, as she watched Mara and Verin and Danica and dozens of others receive chaste pecks from shy boys as they spun by in their brightly-colored dresses, waving fluted, bubbling glasses and laughing with abandon. And there, the grey-eyed boy, Bracken's best friend, was seated quietly with his hands folded in his lap, listening politely to an enthusiastic rendition of some trivial event or another by Salvia. It was always easy to tell when she was excited about something, as her arms pinwheeled and hands fluttered with no thought to how the gestures went along with the story. He glanced up, and his eyes met, for a moment, Livia's. He looked surprised to see her there, and then a bit sad, and then his gaze drifted back to Salvia, who had grabbed his knee in her earnestness. This infinitesimal rejection, the refusal to even meet her eyes for more than a moment, pushed Livia over the edge. Tears, burning like acid, washed over her face, and she stumbled away from the window, crying with pitiful lack of restraint. She staggered into the sparse forest, the trees providing scattered shelter from curious eyes, if any should choose to drift away from the golden party, and the darkness of the night fit her mood, a strangely soothing thought. "Are you alright?" For the second time, the grey-eyed boy's voice jolted her out of her own misery. She would not face him; not now, when her eyes were puffy and irritated, her nose red and her face streaked with dirty tear tracks. He would see her and compare her to Salvia, and she would fall short; she could not handle right now seeing him weigh her that way and find her lacking. His hand on her back was another surprise, and then both his hands weighing down on her shoulders as he stepped closer behind her. "Hey," he said gently. "Everything will turn out fine. Maybe, maybe you'll find someone better than Bracken could have been for you." She forgot her resolution not to face him then, turning toward him with her eyes narrowed to angry slits. "How could I, when everyone is paired already? Besides, I had my chance - he just managed to get himself killed before I could even meet him!" The words came out much harsher than she intended, and the young man in front of her actually took a step back from her ferocity, hunching like she'd landed a blow to his gut. "I'm sorry," she said immediately, automatically. "I shouldn't have said that. He was your friend, " "It's alright," he said, giving her a ghost of a smile and waving his hand with a nonchalance that didn't show in his eyes. He had that gentle look of quiet appreciation of life that came to some people who lost loved ones, but knew that lost friend would be offended if they did not continue to smile. "I know it's probably really hard on you, seeing everyone so, happy." He trailed off, not looking happy in the least. "Speaking of happy people, shouldn't you be in there with Salvia?" His face took on the contemplative expression of someone deciding how to phrase something delicately. "Salvia, she's not quite what I expected to find, on my Matching Day. She's, " "Lively?" Livia suggested. "Brazen? Exuberant?" obnoxious," the grey-eyed boy said decisively. "I don't like her at all." Livia smirked. "Well, you have to like her. She's your match. You love her." He shook his head. "No," he said quietly. "I don't." "But she's your perfect match," Livia insisted. "But what if she's not?" Livia heard her heart beat twice before she asked, "What?" "What if Salvia is not the perfect girl for me? What if the girl that I would love more than anyone else in the world couldn't be matched with me because, there was someone else our age who she would like a little bit better?" "That doesn't even make sense," Livia said, shaking her head. "The matches have always been perfect: even numbers, complete compatibility;” "But this time they messed up, right? I mean, you should know. You're the person who's affected more than anyone else." "Well, yes, but;” "So why isn't it possible that they aren't right on everything else? What if they didn't match this girl with me because she would love this other guy more?" "Well, so, maybe they did. But if you would love her so much, surely you would want to see her happy, with the man she was meant to be with, right?" "Yes," he said, very seriously. "I would want to see her happy." "Then you should leave her in peace with the person she was matched with, and focus on learning to love the girl you were paired with." The interminable silence stretched between them as the grey-eyed boy stared down at the leafy ground and Livia watched the way his hair blew across his forehead in the breeze. At last he said, "What if she wasn't matched with anyone?" Livia's heart sped up, beating double time as she realized what he'd been saying all along, what she'd been too dim to put together until he'd spelled it out. "But you are matched," she said numbly. "Salvia has you." He leaned dangerously far forward, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered into it, "I don't want Salvia." Livia shrank back, confused. These were dangerous words he uttered, dangerous thoughts. People were matched with the people they were meant to be with. How could there be any other way? They couldn't be wrong; there'd been no divorce, no infidelity, no broken hearts in the decades people had been paired this way. Surely it was the right way. It had to be. "I don't even know your name," Livia said resolutely, as though that settled the matter and proved him wrong. She pushed against his chest to force him back, feeling the blazing heat of his heart under her palm. "It's Mason," he said quietly, and his words had the sound of discussion-ending power to them too. Livia was conscious of the fact that she had not moved her hand from his chest; her fingers curled slightly, enjoying the silky feeling of his shirt over his skin, and the warmth that radiated from his flesh. "Go back to Salvia, Mason," she whispered. She realized she was shaking from head to toe, and not from cold. Here was everything she had ever wanted, everything she had imagined when she thought of her Matching Day, but he was not hers. "Please, go back to the party." With a sigh, Mason touched her cheek briefly, the lightest of butterfly wing contacts, and then he turned and vanished into the night, not toward the party, but deeper into the forest. Livia stood for a long time without moving, her mind racing and her heart pounding like a runner's feet, and then she walked, slowly, directly away from Mason. "You didn't come to the party last night," Mara said, breaking the silence that stood like frosted glass between her and Livia. "No." Livia had gotten no sleep the night before; lying in bed, replaying continually the frightening moments with Mason, her heart had never slowed. "Well, I just wanted to say goodbye, " Mara twisted her hands for a moment before wrapping Livia up in a warm and desperate hug. "I'm sorry, Lenny. I'm going to miss you so much." The tension between them melted, and Livia returned the hug tightly, sighing. "It's hard to believe I'll never see any of you again - all the girls I've known all my life! Except for Maize and Crista, they're the only ones who matched with boys from here, right? And I don't really even know them." "Well, you'll see Salvia too, for a little while." Breathe in. Breathe out. "Why's that?" "Oh, that fellow she paired with - Mason, isn't it? - his parents have some sort of huge wedding ceremony planned, and they've got a house mostly built for the two of them. They told him to stay here a while, get to know his partner's family for a bit, let her spend some more time with them, and then head back once the house and all the plans were done." Wedding were an extravagance, a luxury that most people went without, especially if they didn't have the means to make it a massive event. The fact that Mason's family was going to such lengths meant they must be well off indeed. "So Mason, and Salvia, will be around for a while?" "Yeah, at least a month, I'd say." A buzzing numbness in her extremities made it difficult for Livia to respond. She had thought Mason would be gone today, that she'd never have to see him and Salvia together again. But they would be here for a month, "Speak of the devil," Mara said cheerfully, skipping over to greet Salvia as she pranced up the path with Mason's hand gripped in her own vice-like claw. The dark circles under his eyes said that he, too, had had a night with little sleep. "Good morning, Mara, Livia," he said politely, giving each of them a little nod. His eyes lingered on Livia, though, and she found herself blushing and rushing to hug Mara goodbye again and begging for many letters describing life in Onek in great detail. But then Mara left, and Salvia, Mason and Livia were left standing in an awkwardly isosceles triangle. "So, " Livia said at length, rocking back and forth in her slippers. "How was the party last night?"

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aflevering Matching Day: Part 1 artwork

Matching Day: Part 1

MATCHING DAY: PART 1 TO LOVE RISKS MORE THAN JUST HER HEART. Based on a post by SmallTownPrincess [https://www.literotica.com/authors/SmallTownPrincess/works], in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/Spring-2025/MatchingDay1.mp3] at Connected [https://feeds.feedburner.com/connected-podcast]. [https://archive.org/download/Spring-2025/MatchingDay1.jpg] Girls spend their entire lives looking forward to the fateful Matching Day - and whether or not they will admit it, boys, too, have at least a healthy curiosity. It's so reassuring, knowing that in your eighteenth year, you and your age-mates will be paired off, brought together with another from their own community or a surrounding one that match them perfectly. No song-and-dance dating rituals, like the ones in the books Livia liked to read, no old maids, no riotous bachelors; just simple, comforting compatibility. "Have you heard?" The hushed, conspiratorial tones issued from the pink-lacquered lips of Livia's best friend, Mara. "What?" Livia's low-pitched voice always made her sound disinterested, but she paid close attention to Mara when her friend sounded this urgent. "There was a big accident over in Micrague. One guy died!" "Oh, that's terrible," Livia murmured, letting her eyelashes drop and rise again to half-mast in a brief show of empathy. It was all she had time for, as Mara leaned suddenly, ever more urgently forward, gripping Livia's arm in both hands. "That's not the worst thing," she rolled on. "The guy who was killed? He just turned eighteen. That makes the numbers for tomorrow's Matching uneven!" Two full breaths, painful to the impatient Mara, passed before Livia spoke in response. "So, what, someone won't be paired? A girl will be left without her match?" "Whoever matched with him will have no pair on Matching Day," Mara proclaimed ominously. Her eyes were wide and glittering with morbid excitement. "What do they do about that?" It was unheard of, as far as Livia knew; there were always even numbers, always a perfect match for everyone. Mara gave an exaggerated shrug. "Maybe she'll never be matched." Livia was surprised into laughter. "They can't leave her without a match forever," she said with certainty. "Maybe they'll search out another community for someone that fits even better than that poor boy who died." Her reassuring confidence sent Mara, humming, away to terrify someone else with proclamations of an eternity alone for some poor girl. The thought nagged at Livia for the rest of the afternoon, though. What if he was matched with me? "Verin Massada," the stern voice called from the central platform, and a stick-thin brunette drifted toward the three steps that lifted her above the circle of impatient teenagers. "Philip Pressia." The broad-shouldered redhead that stepped up to take Verin's hand smirked and bowed at the polite smattering of applause that ushered the happy new couple off the stage. Livia smiled approvingly; Verin needed a little more humor in her life. Livia watched each girl she'd grown up with walk back into the circle, shyly clutching the hand of her new mate, and twisted her skirt nervously in her fingers. It seemed forever before the 'R's were called, and the wad of boys brought in from all the different communities steadily shrank. She met the clear grey eyes of one of the remaining boys as Clanley Ritchell was met by a generic-looking, dark-haired boy, and she thought fleetingly, I hope I'm matched with him. He seemed to be thinking the same thing; his face fell a little when he was called up to greet a willowy blond on the dais. "Danica Soress," the voice demanded, and Livia stood a little straighter with a sharp intake of breath. Had she been skipped? All the vague, incoherent fears that had accompanied Mara's morbid pronouncement coursed through Livia, charged with shame as some girls recognized the omission and turned to look at her with expressions of varying pity. Livia felt on the edge of tears. She saw the blond - that wretched Salvia - pull the grey-eyed boy down to whisper cruelly in his ear and point in Livia's direction, and she contemplated melting into the dirt. With the blood roaring loudly in her ears, she heard no other names called, and stared fixedly at a nondescript blade of grass in front of her to avoid the glances that were flickering toward her. How can this be? she thought frantically. How can I not have a match? "Livia, what's going on?" Mara's face held ghoulish curiosity with only an edge of concern for her friend, and Livia couldn't deal with her. She turned without a word and marched to the fountain a good distance away from the platform. People were breaking off now, finding secluded spots to get to know this person with whom they'd be partnered forever. Livia, wrapping her arms tightly around her gut, had never felt so alone. How could she have lost a lifetime of companionship without ever tasting it? It was too, too cruel. What right did that boy have to take away everything in one fell swoop? How could he die? She wanted to shake her fist at the heavens, demand an explanation, but she just trailed her fingers through the rippling water in the fountain basin, swallowing hard against the wave of emotions that threatened to show itself grotesquely in her features. "His name was Bracken, if that helps," said a voice behind her, and she jumped, throwing water onto her dress. She turned to see that grey-eyed boy approaching, and she prepared herself for the humiliation she was sure to experience at his hands; he had, after all, been matched like everyone else, and she was alone - possibly forever. He did not mock her, though; his eyes held the soft, cautious understanding of someone who pitied another, but was not sure whether that person desired sympathy or not. When she said nothing, he shrugged self-consciously. "Sorry, I realize you might not have wanted to know. I just, he was my best friend. I thought if you did want to know about him, I'd at least let you know who you could ask." A flood of gratitude made it temporarily impossible for her to speak, and then she forced a smile. "I think I'd like to know," she said hesitantly. She wasn't sure; would it be better to know nothing about what she'd never have, or to at least have pleasant thoughts about what could've been? "Can I ask you something now?" "Absolutely." "Would I have liked him?" The boy nodded. "I think so. He was quiet at first, it took a while to get to know him. But once you did, there was no one you trusted more." He added, with the hesitation of an afterthought but the seriousness of something he'd intended to say all along, "Seeing you here, there's no doubt that he would have liked you." He gave Livia one last smile and lay his hand over hers for a moment, ignoring the water droplets that sat on it like dew. For a warm second, she felt a rush of what it might have been like to have someone get to know her intimately over a lifetime, to love and understand her and for her to love back, and then the grey-eyed boy was walking with wide strides back to Salvia, and nothing but a hollow sadness remained beneath her breastbone. Livia hated them. All of them. The girls with their softly rolling curls, teased and coached for hours in order to look casually delicate when the boys, their shirts tucked in and their shoes shined, arrived at their doorsteps carrying one or two or twenty flowers in one hand and a shining invitation in the other. They walked with springing steps the short distance to the gathering hall in the center of town, hand in hand or arm in arm, and Livia wanted to throw rocks at the whole lot of them. She had been invited, sort of, to join in on the festivities. The community officials, not sure what to do with the first single person over eighteen in a century, had hesitantly allowed for her participation in all the new couples' activities; so far, she had partaken in none of them. Desperately, she wanted to be a part of the revelry, but she could not force herself to walk into the rooms full of happy girls and their happy boys, and have nothing herself. Her mother, unable to comfort her, had begged her to go to the dance. It was the last night before all the boys would be returning to their own communities, taking their matches with them. It was the last night she would seek Mara, who had paired with a boy from Onek. And she'd tried: she'd gotten dressed, piled her hair up on top of her head and pulled her elbow-length gloves on, but nothing could motivate her to step outside her house as streams of giggling lovebirds trickled by on the way to the hall. "Go, Livia," her mother said, coming up behind her with a basket of laundry on her hip. "You should at least go long enough to say goodbye to Mara." "I can't, Mama. Think of how they'll look at me!" Her mother bent Livia's head down to kiss her on the forehead. "It's not your fault, Neinei, and they know that. They feel bad for you. They all want to see you. The world didn't end when that poor boy died." "Bracken," Livia said defiantly. Her mother had refused to say his name, insisting that it was better for Livia to know nothing about what she had lost. Patting her daughter's shoulder, she adjusted her basket and turned to leave. "Go." Livia had retreated around the side of the gathering hall, standing just outside the golden pool of light that poured like honey from the windows. Sobs caught in her throat and were choked down, unvoiced, as she watched Mara and Verin and Danica and dozens of others receive chaste pecks from shy boys as they spun by in their brightly-colored dresses, waving fluted, bubbling glasses and laughing with abandon. And there, the grey-eyed boy, Bracken's best friend, was seated quietly with his hands folded in his lap, listening politely to an enthusiastic rendition of some trivial event or another by Salvia. It was always easy to tell when she was excited about something, as her arms pinwheeled and hands fluttered with no thought to how the gestures went along with the story. He glanced up, and his eyes met, for a moment, Livia's. He looked surprised to see her there, and then a bit sad, and then his gaze drifted back to Salvia, who had grabbed his knee in her earnestness. This infinitesimal rejection, the refusal to even meet her eyes for more than a moment, pushed Livia over the edge. Tears, burning like acid, washed over her face, and she stumbled away from the window, crying with pitiful lack of restraint. She staggered into the sparse forest, the trees providing scattered shelter from curious eyes, if any should choose to drift away from the golden party, and the darkness of the night fit her mood, a strangely soothing thought. "Are you alright?" For the second time, the grey-eyed boy's voice jolted her out of her own misery. She would not face him; not now, when her eyes were puffy and irritated, her nose red and her face streaked with dirty tear tracks. He would see her and compare her to Salvia, and she would fall short; she could not handle right now seeing him weigh her that way and find her lacking. His hand on her back was another surprise, and then both his hands weighing down on her shoulders as he stepped closer behind her. "Hey," he said gently. "Everything will turn out fine. Maybe, maybe you'll find someone better than Bracken could have been for you." She forgot her resolution not to face him then, turning toward him with her eyes narrowed to angry slits. "How could I, when everyone is paired already? Besides, I had my chance - he just managed to get himself killed before I could even meet him!" The words came out much harsher than she intended, and the young man in front of her actually took a step back from her ferocity, hunching like she'd landed a blow to his gut. "I'm sorry," she said immediately, automatically. "I shouldn't have said that. He was your friend, " "It's alright," he said, giving her a ghost of a smile and waving his hand with a nonchalance that didn't show in his eyes. He had that gentle look of quiet appreciation of life that came to some people who lost loved ones, but knew that lost friend would be offended if they did not continue to smile. "I know it's probably really hard on you, seeing everyone so, happy." He trailed off, not looking happy in the least. "Speaking of happy people, shouldn't you be in there with Salvia?" His face took on the contemplative expression of someone deciding how to phrase something delicately. "Salvia, she's not quite what I expected to find, on my Matching Day. She's, " "Lively?" Livia suggested. "Brazen? Exuberant?" obnoxious," the grey-eyed boy said decisively. "I don't like her at all." Livia smirked. "Well, you have to like her. She's your match. You love her." He shook his head. "No," he said quietly. "I don't." "But she's your perfect match," Livia insisted. "But what if she's not?" Livia heard her heart beat twice before she asked, "What?" "What if Salvia is not the perfect girl for me? What if the girl that I would love more than anyone else in the world couldn't be matched with me because, there was someone else our age who she would like a little bit better?" "That doesn't even make sense," Livia said, shaking her head. "The matches have always been perfect: even numbers, complete compatibility;” "But this time they messed up, right? I mean, you should know. You're the person who's affected more than anyone else." "Well, yes, but;” "So why isn't it possible that they aren't right on everything else? What if they didn't match this girl with me because she would love this other guy more?" "Well, so, maybe they did. But if you would love her so much, surely you would want to see her happy, with the man she was meant to be with, right?" "Yes," he said, very seriously. "I would want to see her happy." "Then you should leave her in peace with the person she was matched with, and focus on learning to love the girl you were paired with." The interminable silence stretched between them as the grey-eyed boy stared down at the leafy ground and Livia watched the way his hair blew across his forehead in the breeze. At last he said, "What if she wasn't matched with anyone?" Livia's heart sped up, beating double time as she realized what he'd been saying all along, what she'd been too dim to put together until he'd spelled it out. "But you are matched," she said numbly. "Salvia has you." He leaned dangerously far forward, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered into it, "I don't want Salvia." Livia shrank back, confused. These were dangerous words he uttered, dangerous thoughts. People were matched with the people they were meant to be with. How could there be any other way? They couldn't be wrong; there'd been no divorce, no infidelity, no broken hearts in the decades people had been paired this way. Surely it was the right way. It had to be. "I don't even know your name," Livia said resolutely, as though that settled the matter and proved him wrong. She pushed against his chest to force him back, feeling the blazing heat of his heart under her palm. "It's Mason," he said quietly, and his words had the sound of discussion-ending power to them too. Livia was conscious of the fact that she had not moved her hand from his chest; her fingers curled slightly, enjoying the silky feeling of his shirt over his skin, and the warmth that radiated from his flesh. "Go back to Salvia, Mason," she whispered. She realized she was shaking from head to toe, and not from cold. Here was everything she had ever wanted, everything she had imagined when she thought of her Matching Day, but he was not hers. "Please, go back to the party." With a sigh, Mason touched her cheek briefly, the lightest of butterfly wing contacts, and then he turned and vanished into the night, not toward the party, but deeper into the forest. Livia stood for a long time without moving, her mind racing and her heart pounding like a runner's feet, and then she walked, slowly, directly away from Mason. "You didn't come to the party last night," Mara said, breaking the silence that stood like frosted glass between her and Livia. "No." Livia had gotten no sleep the night before; lying in bed, replaying continually the frightening moments with Mason, her heart had never slowed. "Well, I just wanted to say goodbye, " Mara twisted her hands for a moment before wrapping Livia up in a warm and desperate hug. "I'm sorry, Lenny. I'm going to miss you so much." The tension between them melted, and Livia returned the hug tightly, sighing. "It's hard to believe I'll never see any of you again - all the girls I've known all my life! Except for Maize and Crista, they're the only ones who matched with boys from here, right? And I don't really even know them." "Well, you'll see Salvia too, for a little while." Breathe in. Breathe out. "Why's that?" "Oh, that fellow she paired with - Mason, isn't it? - his parents have some sort of huge wedding ceremony planned, and they've got a house mostly built for the two of them. They told him to stay here a while, get to know his partner's family for a bit, let her spend some more time with them, and then head back once the house and all the plans were done." Wedding were an extravagance, a luxury that most people went without, especially if they didn't have the means to make it a massive event. The fact that Mason's family was going to such lengths meant they must be well off indeed. "So Mason, and Salvia, will be around for a while?" "Yeah, at least a month, I'd say." A buzzing numbness in her extremities made it difficult for Livia to respond. She had thought Mason would be gone today, that she'd never have to see him and Salvia together again. But they would be here for a month, "Speak of the devil," Mara said cheerfully, skipping over to greet Salvia as she pranced up the path with Mason's hand gripped in her own vice-like claw. The dark circles under his eyes said that he, too, had had a night with little sleep. "Good morning, Mara, Livia," he said politely, giving each of them a little nod. His eyes lingered on Livia, though, and she found herself blushing and rushing to hug Mara goodbye again and begging for many letters describing life in Onek in great detail. But then Mara left, and Salvia, Mason and Livia were left standing in an awkwardly isosceles triangle. "So, " Livia said at length, rocking back and forth in her slippers. "How was the party last night?"

Gisteren1 h 0 min
aflevering Mrs. Bateman's Cougar Club: Part 2 artwork

Mrs. Bateman's Cougar Club: Part 2

MRS. BATEMAN'S COUGAR CLUB: PART 2 THE WOMEN OF '77 CHANGED MY LIFE. Based on a post by Sel Wync Dog [https://www.literotica.com/authors/S3lwyncd0g/works]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/fall-2025/MrsBatemansCougarClub2.mp3] at Steamy Stories [https://feeds.feedburner.com/steamy-stories]. [https://archive.org/download/fall-2025/MrsBatemansCougars2.jpg] DISCRETE SERVICES. "Wait; Mrs. Bateman; she paid to have sex with me?" "Yes, Todd." "I don't believe it; She's beautiful, I'd have fucked her for free! Any guy would!" "True, but she's married and discretion is of vital importance. That is half of what she's paying for. A great fuck is the other half. And she said it was worth every penny. In fact she wants to come back next Friday, same time." As I stood there trying to come to grips with this revelation, Mrs. Bateman knelt on the bed, her face pressed into the wet sheets. She inhaled the scent and moaned. I glanced over and saw far enough under her skirt to see she was wearing thigh high stockings rather than pantyhose. I stepped closer and lifted her skirt. She was panty-less. I touched her pussy and found she was very wet. MANAGEMENT APPRECIATION. "God, Mrs. Bateman, your pussy is soaking wet! Would you like me to fuck it?" I said playfully. "Would you, Todd? That would be so nice." I fucked her from behind as she cooed encouragement. "Oh, that's so good Todd. You have such a big cock. You really are such a nice boy. Yes, just like that. Fuck me, Todd, fuck me good. Oh yes." Despite the vigorous sex with Diane, I had no trouble getting stiff for my mentor, which is what I realized she was. And I was thoroughly enjoying fucking her. Holding her hips and thrusting into her was nice and I could watch my cock sliding in and out. I could see her pussy stretching to accept my cock and when I pulled back, it was covered in her wetness. "Spank me, Todd." "What?" "Spank me!" she said more forcefully. "Spank my ass with your palm." I did and she swore. "Harder!" I smacked her and she yelped. "Yes! That's it! Again! Yes! Not too hard and not too often, okay? You start with a small, light smack and wait to see if she likes it. God, you feel good. Okay, slow it down a bit. That's it, that's it; Yes; Now, I want you to pull out and then press it in slowly. Oh yes, just like that. No, don't shove it in, just ease the tip in; and out; and in...Oh yes, that good. Keep that up for a bit." This felt incredible! The sensation of repeated penetration was amazing but the stimulation was going to make me cum. "I'm going to cum, Mrs. Bateman!" She turned and faced me, grabbing my cock and thrusting it into her mouth and her hands stroked and caressed me. I shot my load into her mouth as she locked her eyes with mine. It was wild, cumming as I stared into her eyes. This time when she'd drained me, she leaned back a bit lifting and cradling her tits. She opened her mouth. Cum flowed over her lips, down her chin, and dripped onto her tits. As I watched she played with it. She ran her fingers through it and then rubbed it into her skin like lotion. And she was smiling wickedly the whole time. We showered, put on robes, and had dinner. Later I changed and went home to await Mom's nightly check-in. After that, I returned to Mrs. Bateman's and we slept in her bed. No sex, just cuddling, kissing, and talking. And it was wonderful. The next morning I awoke with my typical morning woodie and my first thought was to try and fuck the woman sleeping next to me. However she had other ideas and gave me my first titty-fuck. She sucked my cock a bit, licked it up and down, then wrapped her titties around it and stroked. It was fun. Then she laid down and I straddled her, placing my cock between her tits which she then pressed together. As I thrust back and forth she giggled and encouraged me. In a few minutes I came. She grasped my cock, closed her eyes, and directed my spurts of cum to completely cover her face. She then rubbed it around and even licked and swallowed some. She forced her eyes open and stumbled to the dresser mirror. Looking at her image she laughed. "God, that's a lot of cum!" she giggled. "It's weird I know, but I love it so!" She washed her face and shooed me off. A little later as we ate breakfast she said, "You and I are not fucking today. You need to rest up for this evening." "Why?" SUE'S ASIAN EROTICS. "You have another client coming over." "Oh?" I said, my eyebrows raising. That afternoon I went to service the Caddy and when I returned there was another car there. I went in, they were again sitting in the living room. "Good! You're here, come on in," she gestured at the other woman, "This is Sue." I noticed she did not elaborate, no last name given. "Sue, this is Todd." Sue looked at me and smiled, "Hello Todd." I smiled, "Hello." Sue was Japanese and it was difficult to guess her age but she had to be in her late thirties or early forties. She was pretty and wore her black hair long and gathered in the back. She had a nice smile and her dark eyes were obviously sizing me up. It felt awkward. Finally she stood and approached me. I stood still as she circled me, one hand gently gliding across my chest, then my back. Sue was probably 5'3". She had a rather petite figure but possessed an air of sophistication and authority. She was wearing a dark blue dress. "Yes, I believe he'll do." she said, then paused and looked at me again. "He understands what; is required? This is all discrete of course;" "Of course," Mrs. Bateman replied and fixed me with an icy stare. "He has far too much to lose." Sue nodded and headed for the stairs. Mrs. Bateman put her arm around me and kissed my neck. "Okay Todd, this is going to be a little different. Sue has fantasies. Many women do. Her's is being taken. Not raped, but you must use a little force to overcome her reluctance. Nothing brutal or violent. She will resist a little and you press on, ignoring it. But if she says 'No' or 'Stop', by god you'd better stop immediately. Do you understand?" "Yeah, I think so. She wants to pretend to resist but really wants it." "Yes." Nervously I went upstairs and knocked on the guest room door. It opened and I stepped in. Sue closed the door behind me and I heard it lock. She had removed the dress and draped it across the chair. Now she wore a small silky white camisole and panties (I would later learn they were called tap panties and resembled running shorts). She said nothing but walked slowly around and climbed onto the bed. Nervously, I began to strip. It wasn't until I was naked and turned to face that she spoke. "Olivia was right! You are big!" she said as she reached out to grasp my swelling cock. I moaned as she squeezed and tugged gently. She rose onto her knees and we kissed. She moved her head from side to side and her kisses grew more intense. I slipped my hands under her camisole but she pushed them away. "Not yet!" "Okay, no rush." I said and she backed away. "You know what to do? What I want?" "Yes, Mrs. Bateman explained." She closed her eyes and was quiet for a moment. Then she took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay, begin." I rose from the bed and walked towards her. Sue turned and faced the wall. I reached out and gripped her shoulders, she flinched and said something in Japanese. I pulled her to me and she resisted. I wrapped my arms about her and kissed her neck. Sue repeated the word, it sounded like 'bango', but short and harsh. I began to slide my hands down and around her waist, she kept her arms clenched tightly over her chest. I kissed the other side of her neck and my kisses slowly climbed up into her hair, behind her ear. I whispered. "I want you; you are so beautiful; give yourself to me, please;" Sue muttered something I couldn't understand. I slid my hands around, onto her belly, my left moved up, under her camisole until her arms stopped me just below her breasts. My right then slid down into her panties. She said something like "Shinaide kudasai;" and tried to pull away. I leaned into her and pressed her against the wall. My hand had reached her mound and I felt her fur. Sue dropped one hand to grasp my wrist. My left hand slid up until it cupped her right breast. It was small but firm and she gasped. I pushed further with my right hand and my fingers found and explored her folds. She whimpered and mumbled words I couldn't make out. I continued to kiss her neck and ear. I continued to gently rub her pussy but didn't try to penetrate her for another minute or two. Slipping my hands free I grasped her shoulders and spun her around. I held her head in both hands and kissed her. She resisted, but only after a moment, turning her head. I then kissed that side of her face, her neck and shoulder. Her chin rose as she mumbled something at the ceiling. I kissed her exposed throat and she seemed to tremble a little. I kissed further down her throat to her chest, as far as the camisole . My hand sliding down to her waist, over her hips and onto her thighs.     Then, very slowly, my kisses rose upwards to her throat and mouth. This time when I kissed her lips she didn't resist. She didn't participate in the kiss, she merely allowed it. My hands, as they rose from her hips slid under her camisole and it lifted. She tried to back away but was against the wall. As my hands reached her armpits I lifted her arms over her head, the camisole following, her breasts exposed as the silk covered her face. Sue was petite and her breasts were small but firm. Her nipples seemed abnormally large in comparison and were stiff and erect in the center of small, dark red areola. I lowered my head and covered them in kisses. Sue continued to mutter in Japanese as I held her arms up. My kisses then roamed higher, up her throat. I kissed her mouth again, shielded by the silk. This time she hesitated then participated in the kiss, her lips moving with mine. I began to slide my hands higher carrying the camisole over her head ever so slowly. I stopped with the silk covering her eyes but our lips met. The kiss was longer and deeper and ever so slowly she seemed to yield more and more. I now had a raging hard on and wanted her badly. I lifted the camisole higher and she pulled her arms free, immediately covering her breasts. I scooped her up and spun, dropping her on the bed. Before she could react, I grabbed her panties and pulled them down and off. She clamped her legs together with one hand over her pussy, the other arm over her breasts. Sue was pleading in Japanese as I grasped her knees and forced her legs open. I peeled her hand away and kissed her dark furred mound, then nuzzled my way down to her wet folds. And Sue was wet. Very wet. As my tongue worked its way in between her lips to lap her juices, Sue moaned loudly. I forced myself to slow down and remember my lessons. I focused on exploring her pussy, ignoring her clitoris. I licked her slit from bottom to top and teased her by trying to thrust my tongue into her. Sue had one hand on my head as if to push me away, though she didn't try very hard. She continued to mutter and mumble and even squeeze with her legs as I caressed her thighs and hips. Finally she ceased altogether as I brought her clitoris into play. Her moans grew louder and her hips started rocking. I waited until she seemed really close and then started sucking on her clit, and flicking it rapidly with the tip of my tongue. Sue started babbling and pawing at my head with both hands. Then her legs began to tremble and quiver, she thrust her hips upwards and cried out. "Hai! Hai! Hai! Ah!" She tensed up, her body rigid yet her muscles trembling, then collapsed. Seizing the opportunity I grabbed my cock and pressed the tip between her lips. Sue's eyes flew open. "Dame, dame, dame!" she begged. I thrust into her and we both cried out. Damn she was tight. Soaking wet but tight. I pulled back and thrust again. Again Sue cried out, I pulled back and thrust again and again and again as she cried and squeezed her breasts. As I thrust faster and faster she panted, the first words in English since we started. "Too much! Oh god! Too much, too much! Oh god!" I was afraid she was about to stop me but she didn't. Instead she grasped my right hand and placed it on her throat. I didn't expect this and, confused, I slowed down. Sure reached up and grabbed me by the throat with both hands. "Fuck me!" she whispered then uttered a stream of harsh sounding Japanese. Okay, well if this is what she wants; I thrust harder and faster and her grip weakened and then failed. I forcibly kissed her without any reaction from her. I was pounding her pussy and she was wailing and crying. She didn't say anything but suddenly I felt her body stiffen and her pussy spasmed around my cock. It was like a fist was squeezing it. I exploded, my cum spurting out and filling her. After what seemed ages, she went limp. I sat up and as I pulled out, a flood of cum flowed out and down. I watched it for a moment then lay down next to her. After a few minutes she stirred. Her hands explored her body, down to her pussy. She rolled to face me. Scooting close she whispered in my ear. "That was incredible; But I have one more favor to ask." "What's that?" "To conclude my fantasy, I need you to bathe with me." Okay... The guest bedroom we were using had its own full bath which included a big tub. Sue and I bathed together and even fucked again, albeit nice and slow. She dressed and then paused at the door. Turning she cupped my face in her hand. "This; was very important to me. I cannot explain why. Just know you have pleased me. Greatly. I will not be back; but I am happy to have had this; affair. Goodbye Todd." She handed me a thick envelope and left. I waited a minute and then dressed and went downstairs. Mrs. Bateman was sitting at the kitchen table. "She said you were perfect. She said she was happy, satisfied and sore." "What was all that about?" I asked. "I believe she was exorcising a demon from her past." Mrs. Bateman replied. "Something she wanted to revisit." "Well it sure was different." "Tell me everything, Todd, and while you do I'll fix you some dinner." Later I dashed home for Mom's 9PM call and then went back to Mrs. Bateman's. We slept together but didn't fuck. She did end up giving me a great blow job before I fell asleep. MAMMARY MARY. The next couple of days were spent working on her rent house for a few hours and then after dinner, fucking. She showed me new positions and taught me different techniques. We also worked on my foreplay and oral skills. My next client came on Wednesday. I was introduced to an older woman named Mary. She looked me over and, nodding, handed an envelope to Mrs. Bateman. Instead of preceding me up to the room, she took me by the hand and led me upstairs. Mary was older than anyone I had considered having sex with. She was easily fifty or fifty five. But when she dropped her dress I saw only a very sexy woman. Mary stood 5'7" in her high heels, had dark brown hair and brown eyes and an amazing figure. She stood there facing me in black stockings, panties, garter belt and bra. As she strutted across the room to me her eyes never left mine. I felt like she was stalking me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. The first kiss was about five or six seconds, the second was much longer and open mouthed. Then came tongue, but not closed mouthed French kissing. Rather it was open mouthed, her tongue teasing and enticing, dancing just out of reach. She laughed and reached down to rub my crotch. Grabbing my belt she pulled me to the bed. Mary sat and unfastened my belt and jeans then tugged them down, along with my underwear. She toyed with my swelling cock, looked up at me and smiled. She paused to remove her bra. Her tits were probably D cups but sagged, her nipples pointing downward more. Her areola were so pale they were almost invisible but her nipples were nice and long. She still said nothing at all but started stroking my cock. She had magic hands. I'd never felt anyone milk my cock like she was. Mary had a technique that was incredible and in no time I was ready to cum. I warned her that I was close, but she just smiled. "Come on then! Give it to me! Give it to me!" I grunted and came, spurting rope after rope of cum onto her chest and tits. Mary continued to milk my cock until the last drop was deposited on her skin. She stood up and stepped over to the mirror on the dresser. She stood there, admiring her image and smiling for a moment then did something totally surprising. She reached into her bag and pulled out a camera. I recognized it as a Rolleiflex. "Do you know what this is?" she asked. "Yes, my Dad has one." "Do you know how to use it?" "Sure;" "Good," she handed it to me. "Take a few pictures of my spunk covered titties." I opened the camera, took a couple, then suggested she lie on the bed and adjusted the lamp to a better angle and took a few more. She then began to run her fingers through the cum, and told me to take more pictures as she played with it. Finally she pulled her panties off and had me take a couple of photos of her pussy. Now her pussy was crowned with short, dark hair but her pussy itself was almost bare, covered only by a little fuzz and her lips were long and dark. I took a few photos and tried to get really close, but the camera wouldn't focus really close. She sat up and took the camera and placed it back in her bag. She turned and pointed to the bed. I laid down and she squatted and sat on my face, gripping the headboard. I tasted her, she wasn't as sweet as Diane but okay. I went to work and as I did she proceeded to hum. Soon she was rocking her hips a bit, then more and more. She was at last producing a fair quantity of fluids and paused to finger herself.     Satisfied, she scooted down until she was over my cock, grasped it and inserted it. She short-stroked a few times until everything was good and wet and then started taking it all the way in long, slow strokes. She seemed to really like it slow and, well, what the heck? It was sex after all. So what if she was older with weird habits and tastes? I relaxed and savored the feeling of her slow ride as I caressed and squeezed her tits. "You have such a nice cock, Todd," she said and sighed as she took it all. "So nice. You like my titties? Everyone does. Go ahead and suck on them, suck hard, I don't mind. In fact I want you to suck on them till it hurts. Yes; now the other one; oh; yes; Would it shock you to know that I like it rough? That I like a little pain?" As I sucked on her tit I spanked her. Mary yelped then grinned. "Yes, please!" "Harder;" Smack. "Harder!" Whack! "Yes!" Whack! "More! Please!" Whack! Acting on impulse I grabbed her hips and rocked her forward onto her knees. With her weight off of me I started driving my cock in and out of her faster and faster. Mary's voice rose an octave or two. "Ah!" As I fucked her, my hands were squeezing her ass and I felt her puckered asshole beneath my middle finger. I pushed on it. "Oh My God! Yes! Yes! Do It!" she cried out. I pushed harder and the tip of my finger penetrated her to my first knuckle. "Oh! Oh god, oh god, oh god;" she moaned. "Spank me! Bite me! Fuck me!" I sucked as much of her tit into my mouth as possible and bit down, albeit lightly, just enough for her to feel my teeth, as I spanked her with my left hand. She yelped and jerked and my finger slid in up to the second knuckle. I could feel my dick sliding in and out I pressed down towards it. ""Oh God! Gah!" she screamed and climaxed. Her body shook and tears filled her eyes. Soon she collapsed on top of me and sobbed. A few minutes passed and s

23 jun 20261 h 0 min
aflevering Mrs. Bateman's Cougar Club: Part 1 artwork

Mrs. Bateman's Cougar Club: Part 1

MRS. BATEMAN'S COUGAR CLUB: PART 1 THE SUMMER OF '77 CHANGED MY LIFE. Based on a post by Sel Wync Dog [https://www.literotica.com/authors/S3lwyncd0g/works]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/fall-2025/MrsBatemansCougarClub1.mp3] at Steamy Stories [https://feeds.feedburner.com/steamy-stories]. [https://archive.org/download/fall-2025/MrsBatemansCougars1.jpg] Way back in 1977, I was a naive 18-year-old. Summer was here and I wanted to spend it having fun. I was going to start college in the fall and luckily, didn't have to work. Mom and Dad were fortunate and made good money. He was the VP of Advertising and Marketing for a major energy company and Mom was actually a successful author. I had a generous allowance and a car (a white '73 BMW) It had been Dad's, and he gave it to me at graduation. I guess I should tell you about myself. I was a blonde-haired, skinny white boy with blue eyes and a big dick. Not that I'd done anything with it. It was just genetics. I knew I was bigger than my friends, but none of the girls I knew were aware of that and I was too shy to advertise it. Hell, I wasn't even sure what to do with it. My first experiments with jacking off were surprising and yet disappointing. I wanted a woman. But as I said, I was painfully shy around the females of the species. My best friend throughout school had been Rick Bateman. Rick had joined the Navy after graduating, and was off at boot camp. Well, one day his Mom called. She said that with Rick gone, she needed help with a few things involving the pool and asked if I would come over. My Mom of course said yes without even asking me. "Todd, go on over to Olivia Bateman's and give her a hand with her pool." I rang the doorbell and she let me in. "Thank you for coming over Todd! I was hoping you weren't too busy." "Not at all Mrs. Bateman," I replied. "Just listening to albums." "That's nice, Rick likes the Eagles. Do you?" "Oh yeah! They're awesome!" She led me out into the back yard, Like most people in our neighborhood, she had a pool. "With Rick around, I never hired a pool service, but now; I'm here alone, and I would rather hire the maintenance done." She gestured at the pool. Since Rick had been gone, it had accumulated a layer of leaves. "No problem," I said. I'll take care of it." She went inside and I set to work. Amazingly it wasn't too bad. I was finishing up when I heard her come outside again. Now their pool was inside a privacy fence but when I turned around I was surprised. She was wearing a white bathrobe. Outside. In June. Looking back I can say Mrs. Bateman was about 5'7", 130 to 140 pounds, and very curvy. Her tits had to be in the double to triple D range. Her wavy dark brown hair was worn most often loose and reached her shoulders. Of course, although I acknowledged her as attractive for a middle-aged woman, she was forty-one years old, but I hadn't really thought of her in a sexual way. I'd known her and Rick for twelve years. Her husband had passed away about six years earlier from cancer. As I stared she dropped the robe onto a chaise. She was completely naked. She slowly walked over to the pool and down the steps. She finally turned to face me when she was waist-deep. "I just love having a pool!" she said smiling. "And I hate the idea of paying someone to tend to it. Do you think you could do it for me, Todd?" "Umm; I guess so." I automatically answered. "Wonderful!" She turned over and floated on her back, slowly going the length of the pool. She turned and swam back then faced me again. "Well, Todd?" "Huh?" I stared at her big tits as they floated in full view. "Are you coming in?" "Uh;" "Todd, when a woman gets naked and invites you to skinny dip with her; you really should. Wouldn't you rather touch these than just stare at them?" she said as she cupped her breasts. Okay, as I said earlier, I was awkward and nervous around girls and not experienced or confident. But the offer finally overcame my shyness and I quickly stripped and dove in. Now the view of her big breasts had aroused me somewhat, but my nervousness had prevented a full-blown hard-on. I suddenly found myself in front of her and she slipped her arms around me and pulled me close. She kissed me and I felt her breasts pressing into me. I felt my erection growing. She did too; and reached down to grasp the thick rod. No one had ever done that. I almost came right then. But she was experienced enough to realize how careful she had to be. She smiled and released me after a moment. "My, you are blessed, aren't you, Todd? Why aren't the girls all over you?" I blushed. "I...uh;" "Oh? Really? You're still a virgin? Well, that won't do. That won't do at all. Here," she patted the edge of the pool, "sit up here. I want to visit Mr. Todd for a while" As I sat on the pool edge she spread my legs wide, then toyed and stroked my cock gently while smiling at me. "Such a nice, big cock." she said. Then she kissed it, licked it up and down, and finally slipped it into her mouth. She sucked on it as she stroked it. Her grip was firm. I reclined back and rested on my elbows. In no time, I knew I was going to cum. I tried to warn her but she ignored me and I blew my load into her mouth. Mrs. Bateman didn't miss a beat and continued to swallow it all as she stroked my jerking cock. I was stunned. I didn't know that was a thing. I had no idea a woman would do that. Of course, all I knew was that:  you touched a girl, she got wet, you got hard, you stuck it in, thrust until you came. Period. I truly knew no more than that. I had a lot to learn. Mrs. Bateman finally finished and smiled at me. She continued to play with my cock. "What? Did that surprise you, Todd?" "Yeah; you just;" "Swallowed your cum," she said matter-of-factly. "Some women like to. Some don't. I assume no one ever did that for you before." I shook my head. "Well, I like to. Especially with young guys. Otherwise, you might not last long once we start fucking." My eyes popped. "Oh yes! I intend to fuck you, Todd. What do you think about that? I intend to fuck you today, and if you're good enough, all summer long." She took my hands and pulled me into the pool with her. She kissed me again and again, slowly teaching me to do it right. I squeezed her tits and she guided me to be gentle and allowed me to kiss and suck on them. See I loved big tits. Always have. My girlfriends had laughed at my infatuation with big knockers, and two of my slutty classmates had let me see and touch them. One had let me kiss and suck a bit. She might have been a C cup at best. These big, beautiful things were amazing! They were huge, soft, round and firm all at the same time. Her areola were large tan ovals and her nipples were thick stubs. I squeezed, kissed, sucked and played with them as she smiled and giggled. "Boys! Every one of you are titty-crazy! Come sit on the 3rd step up. I'll sit below you. Now wrap your arms around me and let my tits know how much you like them" I was giddy with enthusiasm and soon I had her nipples poking out firmly. " You just can't get enough of my big titties huh? Well go on, enjoy yourself!" She said and laughed, as she leaned back against my chest. But a minute later she spun around to face me, kneeling, and pulled my face to hers and kissed me again. This time she slipped her tongue into my mouth. My last girlfriend had allowed only a few French kisses and this was thrilling. Mrs. Bateman also began to fondle my turgid cock again, and when I was good and stiff, she climbed up the steps from the pool and lay on the padded double chaise lounge. She spread her legs and toyed with her pussy. I followed and as I mounted her, she took my cock and guided me into her. She was wet and warm and it felt fantastic. She was still holding my rather thick cock and coached me to use short strokes in and out until I could fit deep inside of her. "Oh god, Todd! That's it; nice and slow. God, you're so big! Oh, that feels so good! Yes, yes; that's it; oh so good, oh so good!" We fucked nice and slow for a few minutes and then I warned her I was cumming again. She laughed and grabbed my hips and held me deep. "Go ahead Todd, cum in me! Give it to me!" I couldn't hold back and came, emptying my load deep inside of her. "God! Yes! That feels so good!" she moaned. When I had finished, I pulled out and collapsed onto the chaise. Mrs. Bateman began to play with her pussy and the flood of cum, thrusting her fingers in deep and rubbing it all over her pussy. "Not bad;" she said. "A nice big cock, lots of cum; but you need training and practice. If you keep quiet about it; this is going to be an amazing summer." Mrs. Bateman and I had sex again before she sent me home. I was fortunate that my parents were too busy and disinterested to notice my shit-eating grin. The next day Mrs. Bateman "hired" me to help her with her rental properties. Mom and Dad bought it and thereafter, my daily disappearances were ignored.     I would arrive at her home and we would fuck immediately. This could be in any room of the house or at the pool. We fucked in the living room, bedroom, kitchen, guest rooms, even Rick's room, with the Eagles latest album playing on the stereo.  One day she led me into the garage and I fucked her across the hood of her '73 Cadillac Coupe de Ville. She was wearing a nice skirt and shiny satin blouse, and as we kissed and groped, I found she was wearing no panties and was soaking wet. As I played with her pussy, she opened her blouse and lifted her braless tits out. I bent her over the hood and took her from behind as she shouted encouragement at me. After a bit, she pushed me away and rolled onto her back with her hips on the fender and her legs in the air. As I fucked her, she played with her tits and moaned. When we finished, I had to back the car out and wash it. Oh and she insisted that I always call her either Mrs. Bateman, Ma'am, or Mistress. Never Olivia or any affectionate nickname. I understand now that it was to keep me from becoming too casual in public. But at the time it was also fun. I would step up behind her in the living room and reach around to cup her huge tits. Nibbling on her neck I would whisper. "God, Mrs. Bateman you are so sexy! I just can't help myself. I want to fuck you so bad!" "Oh Todd," she would reply, "if you insist." She would bend over the sofa and I would lift her skirt and finger her pussy before slipping my cock into her wet folds and snug, warm depths. "Oh Mrs. Bateman, that feels so good!" I would moan. "You feel good too Todd. such a big thick cock!" Then after pumping into her cunt for a while. "Oh Mrs. Bateman, I'm going to cum! I'm going to cum Mrs. Bateman!" Sometimes she would let me cum inside her, sometimes she would turn and suck me off. Once she didn't turn fast enough and I sprayed my load all over her face and the front of her dress. I expected her to be angry but she simply smiled. "I'm sorry Mrs. Bateman!" "That's okay, it happens," she said as she wiped the cum from her face and sucked on her fingers. "But this dress; come help me change." This went on almost daily for three full weeks. I was coming home tired and my cock was sore, but I was thrilled. I mean this woman wanted a lot of sex! We were fucking at least three times a day! I learned to be a good fuck, of course, but more than that, she taught me to be a great kisser, a skilled cunnilinguist, and an attentive lover. I learned foreplay, physical and mental, and to focus on pleasing her, knowing that the journey to her orgasm was fun and pleasing to me and that my own orgasm was always just minutes after hers. It was thrilling to feel her pussy squeezing my cock as she came. That, coupled with her vocalizations (be they cries of pleasure, squeals of delight, or shouts of ecstasy) always made me cum. And beyond all that, she was paying me cash every Friday to keep up the illusion that I had a legitimate job. I thought I was in heaven. Man, was I wrong. OVERNIGHTERS. July 1st was on Friday. Mom and Dad had wanted to go on vacation that week and the next. I didn't, of course and Mrs. Bateman came up with the ruse that one of her renters was moving and we had to clean the place, paint, and prep it for the next renter that week. Mom was upset, but Dad said it was a good experience;  and I was left behind. I wanted to spend the night at her home but figured Mom would call me nightly to check on me. Mrs. Bateman instead came over and spent the night in my bed Thursday night. We made love for what seemed like hours and my bed was soaked. She simply threw a towel over the wetness and went to sleep. This was the first time in my life that I had a woman sleep with me. I mean she went to sleep in my arms. I discovered that amazing feeling of a soft, sensual body pressed against mine. The next morning I woke up with the typical morning woodie but she wasn't interested until she'd had a chance to wake up and get some coffee. We did fool around elsewhere in the house, even going sixty-nine across my parent's bed. Then she said she had some things to do and told me to come over at four with an overnight bag. DISCRETE WITH DIANE. When I arrived, there was another car in her driveway. A nice cream colored Mercedes 450SLC. A convertible with the heart of a sports car. When I went in, using the side door for appearance sake as she always insisted, I found Mrs. Bateman sitting in the living room with another woman. Mrs. Bateman was in her favorite wing chair, attired in a red skirt and white blouse. She waved me in. "Ah, here he is," she said. "Todd this is Diane, Diane, Todd," she made the introductions. Diane stood and sized me up. She was tall, in her heels she matched my 5'11". Her hair was blonde and she was a bit more slender than Mrs. Bateman with smaller tits. She was tanned and her sleeveless dress was white with a deep V front and a fully pleated skirt. As she stepped closer I couldn't help but glance at her cleavage. Diane traced the V with one finger and smiled. The other hand she placed on my cheek. To my surprise she kissed me. A nice deep, long kiss. A second kiss followed and I felt her hand slide down to my crotch where it squeezed my growing cock. As she stepped back, she grinned. "Oh yes, he'll do nicely." She kissed me again, this time with more passion. My hands found her waist and slid up her back. I had no idea why this strange woman was doing this but damn, I wasn't going to turn it down. She broke the kiss and walked away. Picking up her purse and a small bag, she went up the stairs. I watched her long legs in that swishing skirt and stood there grinning. Finally, as she disappeared from view the enchantment was broken. Mrs. Bateman stood and came over, wrapping her arms around me. "What's going on?" I asked. "Oh Todd, it's quite simple. You are going to go up to the guest room and fuck her brains out. The same way you fuck me." "What?" "Yes, she's waiting to fuck you. So go fuck her. Give her what she wants, any way she wants, for as long as she wants. Be polite and patient and above all, ask no questions!" "She wants to have sex with me?" I asked incredulously. "Yes, don't look so shocked! Look, if she met you somewhere else and hit on you, suggested having sex, wouldn't you do it?" "Umm; Well before you started fucking me, yeah. But now that we're fucking.;" Mrs. Bateman smiled, "And if you want to keep fucking me, you'll go up there and please her, like I know you can. Think of it as practice." She swatted my ass and pointed to the stairs. "Go." I knocked on the door but it was slightly ajar. I went in and closed it behind me. Diane was standing at the foot of the bed. With barely a sound, the dress slipped from her shoulders and fell to the floor around her ankles. She paused a moment to let me gaze at her naked body. She was nicely tanned except for the white skin of her bikini area. The stark tan lines were strangely erotic, obviously she tanned in a small string bikini. Her tits were about a C cup and her areola large and round with little pink nipples. Her waist was slim, and her hips round and firm. She was proud of her body and liked showing it off it seemed. "Your turn," she said. I stripped and as my growing cock was freed, she grinned broadly. She climbed onto the bed and uncrossed her legs, revealing a pussy covered in short, sandy straight hair. "I'm told you have a talented tongue; Show me." I started with kisses on her ankles and slowly moved up each leg to her knees and then up her inner thighs. By the time I reached her pussy she was gasping and breathing rapidly. I could smell her arousal and she was already quite wet, beads of fluid lined her inner lips and she tasted sweet. I did my best to focus on pleasing her as Mrs. Bateman had taught me. Soon her hips were rocking and her hands were squeezing her breasts. A cry of ecstasy and a gush of juices confirmed her orgasm. I lapped up the tasty wetness and looked up at her. "Oh god!" she panted. "Fuck me, fuck me now!" I slid my knob against her wet slit and pushed it in. She was so wet it slid in easily. A few thrusts and I was all the way in. "Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!" she panted. I held it deep and kissed her, then she grabbed my head and stared deep into my eyes. "Fuck me!" I started thrusting in and out and she moaned and groaned in pleasure. Soon I rose to my elbows and picked up the pace. Her pussy was making wet squishy sounds and her tits were bouncing. I couldn't last and came, pumping my load in her. She gasped. "Oh god! Oh god no! Not yet! Don't stop! Oh no!"     I sat up to catch my breath and as I pulled out I could see the cum start to flow out of her pussy. I found it weirdly erotic. Very erotic. Mrs. Bateman usually either played with it, ignored it, or wiped it up with tissues. I'd never actually watched it. I reached down and toyed with it, running my fingers through it and spreading it over her pussy. Diane was watching too. I spread a glob over her clit and she twitched and gasped. I slipped two fingers inside of her and she moaned. I stroked the inside of her pussy behind her clit and she bit her lip and groaned. I kept it up and she was soon gasping and trembling. She started pinching her nipples as I stroked faster and faster. Cum was everywhere. Then she threw her head back and cried out, "Oh Fuck! Gah!" My cock was hard again and I shoved it in, pushing all the way in one, hard, violent thrust. "Ah! Oh Fuck!" she screamed. I could feel her pussy spasming around my cock, squeezing and releasing over and over again. Diane grabbed my hand and placed it over her mouth and screamed again and again. I started thrusting. Slowly pulling out until only my knob was inside then thrusting hard, slamming our bodies together. Each time, she screamed into my hand. I began thrusting faster and she started sucking my cum drenched fingers. Soon I was up on my knees, gripping her legs and pounding her furiously. Diane was gasping, and moaning, and weeping as she grabbed and pulled on the sheets. I had no idea what I was doing, only that I couldn't stop. I was overcome with desire, and passion, and need. I have no idea how long I fucked like that, but finally felt the release coming and came again. I finished and pulled out, watching again the flow of cum from her reddened pussy. At some point Diane had stopped being coherent and was limp with her eyes rolled back and simply lay there moaning and humming. I lay next to her and cradled her head. After a minute, her eyes focused on me and she smiled. I kissed her and pushed the hair from her face. I laid down and she rolled onto her side next to me. She lifted one leg up and ov

22 jun 20261 h 0 min
aflevering Emmy, The Class Nudist: Part 3. artwork

Emmy, The Class Nudist: Part 3.

EMMY, THE CLASS NUDIST: PART 3. WES AND CARSON BECOME PART OF THE JACKSON CIRCLE.  Based on a post by WatchingCloud [https://www.literotica.com/authors/WatchingCloud/works/stories]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/steamy-winter-2026/EmmyTheClassNudist3.mp3] at My First Time. [https://feeds.feedburner.com/my-first-time] [https://archive.org/download/steamy-winter-2026/EmmyTheClassNudist3.jpg] It's 7am Saturday morning. Carson is staring at his Windows XP screen saver. He's stayed up late, scouring AOL, MySpace, and even the new Facebook websites, looking for any accounts of Emmy's. He downloaded any and all photos he could find, then made a custom screensaver of Emmy's photos. Carson believes he's the luckiest guy in Texas. He's living every teen boy's wildest fantasy; a pretty teen nudist who's sexually exploring, but still a virgin; for now. What he can't figure out is; 'Why me?' Finally, he quits staring at the screensaver of 35 pics of Emmy, and he turns of the CRT monitor, to get back to his studies. Around 10 am Wes stops by and Carson's dad directs Wes to Carson's bedroom. “I want all the facts, Carson. Tell me what you did with the hottest secret nudist in the county!” “Yeah, morning. Yeah, not much I can say, Spunky. We studied, then shared a pizza and sodas.” “Hey, Carson! Its me. Don't give me the class book report. Give me the real status.!” “Okay, Spunky, I gotta say, I'm sitting here all morning trying to wrap my head around the best thing ever to happen to me.” “So she's into you? Wes cut in. “Yeah, I think we're officially a thing, at least among the two of us.” “Did she get naked again?” “I think I'll decline to answer that.” “She did! Oh my god! You friggin hit the jackpot, dude!” Carson couldn't contain his glee and his grin spread from ear to ear. “Please, Wes. I nearly blew it by being seen with you in the woods, last Wednesday. I'm not going to discuss anything that might be just as bad.” “Yeah, I'm sure she thinks I's so perverted that she won't ever want you to remain my friend.” Wes lamented. “Dude, it's the most amazing thing. It's not that she hates you seeing her naked. It's that she wants you to treat her with honor and politeness.” So when are you going to see her again? “She's gone back down to Humble, where she grew up. Her friends are graduating, today. I think she and her parents will get home tomorrow. I'm going to try to do all my prep for finals while she's gone. If I know her as we;; as I hope, she's in the back seat of her parent's Escalade, with all her textbooks., making good use of the 8 hours of weekend driving.” Just then Carson's computer speakers dinged. Then her heard 'You've got mail' and his monitor illuminated. The screensaver locked up for just a second, frezzing Emmy's close up smile, then the Windows desktop appeared. “Holy shit, dude! You've got it bad!” Wes chided. Wes saw the AOL Instant Messenger window It listed username EmiliaJack as a contact. An indicator showed a new message waiting. He clicked and her message read; “Finally driving into Humble Texas. How's your morning?” “Holy fucking fuck!” Wes was giddy. Carson responded fast; “Sitting in my room, trying to do my studying. But Wes just stopped by. We're both here.” “Hi, Wes! Glad to not see you ;)” Emmy chided him. “Oh God!” Wes said as he turned red. “Ha ha! Great line, Emmy. Actually he's upset that I'm not telling him everything about last night's study group.” “Did you tell him about a possible assignment for next weekend?” Emmy asked. “Huh?” Wes perked up. “Not yet. Like I say, he just walked in right before your message dinged me. Why don't you spell it out, now?” “Uh, sure. Okay, Wes. I have a dear friend whose graduation I'm going to, today. Next Friday she's coming up to stay the long weekend, and be at my graduation celebration. I used to go on double dates with her, and it sure would be fun to do so, again... See where I'm going?” “Holy. Shit!” Wes blurted. “Can I type, Carson?” Carson quickly typed; “Wes is going to talk to you, Here he is” Then Carson got up and Wes sat at his desk chair. “Uh, Hey Emmy. Wes here. I'm actually stunned and very interested. Why me, of all people?” “If Carson has been your friend since 1st grade, that speaks very highly of you. That's how much I respect his good judgment of character.” Emmy explained. “But after what I did just this week, and I dragged Carson into it? How can you even stand to look at me?” Wes trembled as he typed. “You accepted correction responsibly, Wes. You're not a bad guy. You're actually one of the better guys in the Lindale class of 2005.” “That's an incredibly kind thing to say, and I want to deserve it, and live up to it.” What can I do for you?” Wes typed. “Penny Martin is my best friend. We share the same values and lifestyle. Yes, that means what you hope it means. She just split with her boyfriend and is feeling a bit melancholy. I told her we need to do an old-fashion double date, together. I told her to trust me to have a great guy, eager to make sure she does.” Wes jumped up from the chair and screamed' “Yes! Yes! Thank You Jesus!” Carson sat back down and typed; “This is Carson. Wes is busy jumping on the bed and singing praises to God for his undeserved blessings.” “LOL” Emmy replied. “ROFLOL” Carson agreed. Emmy elaborated; “I know we all have our own families getting together. But sometime before She leaves on Memorial Day, the 30th, We will do something, okay? Penny's staying at my house the whole weekend.” “Sounds like a plan” Carson confirmed. Wes was finally completely winded and resumed his seat at the foot of Carson's bed. “I gotta go, we're at the high school football field now, and the seats are filling up.” “Okay, looking forward to your safe return, Emmy.” “Keep studying, Carson. Distraction happen.” And with that the conversation ended. “Crap,” Wes said. “I wish I had a phone with AIM on it.” “I wish I could afford the data charges” Carson concurred. CHAMP'S LAST BATTLE. Wes left and Carson spend most of the Saturday fully reviewing the entire list of subjects he was expecting to be tested on. On Sunday morning, Wes called at about 9am. “Hey Carson. Wes here. I'm terrified that Champ is missing. Can you maybe come help me look for him?” “Sure. I'll tell mom and Dad, and grab some breakfast. Expect me in about 35 minutes, okay?” “Thanks” Wes said with a trembling voice. Carson called Wes's cell as he drove in the driveway. Wes said he's going to wait at the pond for him to get there, then sweep the back 80 acres. The two guys spread about 100 feet apart and walked along. Occasionally they yelled; “Champ!” But with no reply. Often the stopped to listen for wimpers or distant barking. Nothing. They approached Wes's big tree stand, where he hunted deer and placed salt blocks and corn grain. Nothing. They climbed up onto the big 8 by 8 decking, and looked everywhere. Nothing. Got down and continued as far as the fence line, where a peanut field was recently planted. Then they moved laterally and reversed direction. Sweeping back near where the Jackson home was. As Carson approached, they saw scattered blood, Calling Wes over, he moved on. Soon fur could be seen in the blood. It was the color of the Gold Lab, Champ. Then Wes collapsed to the ground; “No!” he screamed, Carson saw where he was looking. It was a bloody mess. Champs mutilated body was laying in the woods, just 120 feet from Emmy's backyard pool. Carson went to Wes's side and put his arm around his shoulder. “I'm so sorry, Wes.” Wes bawled with all the agony of a grieving young man who lost his closest, most loyal friend. Once he reached a point of no more energy to wail, he got off the leaf-covered forest soil and walked over to where Champs mangled head laid, discarded. Carson approached again; “Wes, Take this time to tell Champ what you're feeling. Stay here, while I inspect the scene.” Wes wimpered and nodded. Carson walked in a circle around the bloody mess. Each full circle was followed by another at a 20 foot wider circumference. After 4 circles he returned to Wes. As he came near, Wes was telling Champ a story from several memorable adventures that the boy and his dog had lived, together. Carson sat on the ground, about 20 feet away resting his back against a tree trunk. He listened to maybe three more stories. Then Wes turned to Carson, and waited to hear what Carson had to say. “Wes, Champ killed a massive Razerback, but died in the battle. I don't know where that monster came from, but this is the last forest that beast will terrorize, thanks to Champ. That razorback's corpse is just on the other side of that scrub brush with a huge dog bite in his throat. I'm guessing the monster blood out slower than Champ, But he's just as dead, now.” “Wow!” Wes surmised. If a hero is going to die, the most noble death is while slaying a dragon.” “Well said,” Carson commended his best friend. “We need to get a hold of the Jacksons. Their place is going to stink bad if we don't have a burial real soon. “ Carson called Emmy and told her, first. He'd taken several pics of the gory site and told Emmy he'd email them when he got home. “Let me talk to my folks. Can you say there for a bit, and We'll call you back?” Emmy arranged. IN BUSINESS WITH DOUG JACKSON. In a few minutes, Emmy's dad called; “Carson, It's Doug Jackson. We're so sorry to hear of the loss. Wes had a great dog. The Lab came by several times last fall, when we were at the construction site. Dog's like Champ are, well ; the best friend a guy like Wes can have.” Carson had hit the speakerphone button and Wes heard most of that. Wes teared up again, hearing a stranger's tribute to his faithful dog. “So the woods are a carcass-strewn mess, and nothing stinks like rotting pig.” Doug redirected the discussion. “Do you know anyone who can handle a skid-steer, backhoe, and ATV?” “I'm fairly competent on all three;” Wes volunteered. “Wes, is that you;” Doug said, upon hearing a different voice. “Yes sir.” “Oh, Wes; I hope my words weren't too stressful for you to hear?” Doug inquired. “It was the kindest eulogy I could hope for, sir.” “I'm sorry I haven't come by to pay your family a visit, Wes. I kept meaning to, since we're neighbors, according to Emmy. But listen, I've seen you a few times. You look like an able fella. I'm going to have my site supervisor haul some heavy equipment out to the place on a fifth wheel trailer. I'd love to hire someone to give both animals a proper burial as soon as possible. The decay will stink by tomorrow. We have a beg graduation event next weekend and I'm willing to pay overtime wages if you're available, today? “Uh, I think I need to do it, sir. For Champ.” Doug spelled out the terms completed the call. Carson took Wes and they walked back through the woods, back to Carson's house. They relived the grieving stages when retelling Wes's parents and siblings. Carson was busy frying up eggs and bacon, then the boys ate a full meal. Doug called back while they ate, informing them the equipment will be in the driveway at 12:30pm. Carson and Wes were there to meet the diver and get briefed on proper operations, then too then keys. Driving around the furthest perimeter, they approached the bloody scene with the backhoe and skid steer. Wes dug a separate grave for Champ, under a nearby beautiful tall pine tree. Carson scraped up the ground anywhere he saw signs of Champ's dissected body parts. Meanwhile Wes dug a bigger grave hole for the monster. There's no way Wes would desecrate Champs grave with such an evil creature. Carson was still finishing smooth the grave over Champs buried body when Wes had the bigger second hole prepared. As Carson's skid-steer crawled toward the backhoe, he saw Wes using the bucket to take out his rage on the big black devil. As Wes saw Carson approach his trance was broken and he made one large sweep, scooping the razorback and tumbling the corpse into the big grave. Then he retreated the backhoe and retraced his rout around the property, to avoid harming the fresh new sod. Back at the drive, he parked on the gravel side shoulder, then pulled out a garden hose and sprayed the equipment clean. Carson arrived in the skid-steer while the backhoe was getting washed. Within 10 minutes the job was done. They called Doug and reported on the completion. Doug told Wes he'd come buy to get the keys at his place, plus apologize for a terrible disrespect in not coming by sooner. Carson and Emmy returned to their books in prep for the college-level exams in the days ahead. HOGS GET HARVESTED. When Mr. Doug Jackson finished unpacking from the trip, he and Donna arrived at the Hernandez home, They came with a sympathy card and a pie, which they'd picked up at a Tyler supermarket. The Hernandez family was gracious even in their grief. Doug turned to topic to the growing feral pig problem. He drew some diagrams of some traps he knew worked well in the coastal areas, down near Houston. Doug, Wes, and Mr Hernandez discussed a strategy for eradicating the hogs. Finally, Doug turned to Wes. Handing him and envelop, he said; “Here's the fee we agreed upon. I walked through the area while the girls unloaded. You guys did a professional job without ripping up my lawn. I threw in an extra $100 each for you and Carson.” Wes thanked him and said it was a great honor to get to bury Champ, himself. “Now I want to talk about another possible venture. Can I contract with you, to implement this hog eradication plan?” “I'm listening.” Wes looked Doug in the eye. “Okay, I'll list the steps as I comprehend them. Jump in if I miss something. One. We get an ATV, with a flatbed, and a power T-post driver. Two. We haul Hog fencing, T-posts, and feed corn out to certain selected sites where we want to trap hogs. The Coral traps are the lowest maintenance and most proven design. I want to try that first. Three. we install the circular, spring-gate corals, and set the bait. Four. Each morning, you check all the corals, with your firearm. Any trapped ferals are shot and left til after school's done. Five. After school, you come back and drag out the dead pigs and take a photo of the kill, then bury them before nightfall. I will pay you and your construction team an hourly rate to erect the corals. You pick the team wisely. I will pay a set price for each hog, and a bonus for expediency. The first five in a week gets you a set rate. The next five, in addition to the first five, gets you an even higher rate. I'm asking you to work yourself out of a job. And if you're a productive worker, you'll never lack for a good-paying job.” Wes nodded and said nothing. “Did I miss anything?” Doug looked at Wes, then his father. “Mr. Hernandez added; “Mr. Jackson. What you are proposing to do, is a great service to this part of the county. If your work is backed up with follow-through, you will be a popular man, and a leading candidate for County Commissioner.” Doug chuckled. “Neighbor, My daughter speaks well of your son and his friend, Carson. I suspect that's because the boys come from good families and proper up-bringing. I think you and I are both contributing what God has blessed us with.” That brought a smile to Mr. Hernandez and he stood and shook Doug's hand. “I will leave you and Wes to negotiate the rates and finish up. It is an honor to meet your, Mr. Jackson. And an even bigger honor to be your good neighbor.” The next day, Monday, Wes left school and stopped by the wireless store to pick up the business phone that Doug had included on the deal. Then he arrived home in time to haul the posts, fence panels, and other equipment out to the two best sites he'd picked. He drove a center stake and with a string he walked a circle, using orange spraypaint to mark a layout. Then he measure the spots to set T-posts and lastly he fired up the power drive, to drive the 8 foot posts down 3 feet. The next morning, his dad helped him fasten the first corral. They decided to spread seed corn outside the spring-gate, and more in the middle of the coral. They headed into town for dad's job and Wes's classes. It was Tuesday, after classes, when Wes saw his first 3 trapped hogs. He executed them and came back with the backhoe. He spent the next 3 hours digging a long enough trench grave to handle 100 hog burials. Having another hour of daylight, He went to the other site and dug that trench grave even though that coral was not yet erected. On Wednesday morning, the 2nd coral was made operational. Now the heavy work was done. He kept the skid-steer and ATV machines, but had the backhoe returned to the company. By Thursday morning they realized the biggest hogs were jumping the 60 inch high fence. He was eradicating most of the ferals, but He's have to hunt the big trophy hogs the old fashion way. He was now spending an hour each morning, and another hour each evening. He was making more weekly income as a contract trapper, than any of his classmates were earning in retail. BEULLER DAY. Wes was not trying to be like Emmy and Carson, at school. Wes took practical classes and had no problem attaining a 3 point 4 GPA. Carson and Emmy had GPA numbers above 4 point 1. But they all were wise enough to know character is not an intellectual pursuit. The best friends are the ones with integrity, regardless of intelligence. Thursday was the last day of classes, for the seniors. That's when all the test scores came back. Emmy and Carson were ready for a much-deserved time of unwine ding. Last Friday they talked about a Monday date night. But it made more sense to Make the Bueller Day event their best plan for the official first date. That left them better prepared for Finals and achieving their best legacy in academics. Thursday night, Carson had dinner with the Jacksons. It was a very relaxed and fun time. After helping pick up the table, Emmy and Carson went to the drive-in movie. The movie didn't start til about 9pm, but all the senors were doing various tailgate party games. Carson parked the car near the back, then he and Emmy walked down front where Frisbees and footballs were being tossed. A sand volleyball court was full of several classmates. Carson and Emmy soon became the buzz of the gossip girls. The class of 2005 latest couple, were two brainiacs who had no past dating history. The couple held hands and visited several happy classmates. Janet Holmann finally came up to Carson and said; “You know, Carson, most people don't wait til the end of high school, to get a high school sweetheart.” “Oh,” Carson contemplated. “Then I guess Emmy and I aren't most people.” he added with a smile. Just then Tom Bierman's back hatch opened up and his stereo cranked out; 'School's Out For Summer, ' by Alice Cooper. A flash mob of seniors gathered around and danced with abandon as they celebrated the biggest shared achievement of their lives. The song ended and Pink Floyd's Brick in the Wall serenaded the dancing seniors. Wes showed up just then, and Emmy went over to give him a big hug. “I'm deeply sorry for your loss, Wes. Dad tells me you're teaming up with him to protect the township?” “Hi, Emmy. Your dad's being too modest. Truth is, he's paying me to exact revenge of the whole village of feral hogs.” “Well, I want to thank you for cleaning up my back yard. You are coming to my place tomorrow? I have a friend who's hoping so?” “Yes, I'll be there. And this time I'll come from the front, not the back.

21 jun 20261 h 0 min
aflevering Emmy, The Class Nudist: Part 2. artwork

Emmy, The Class Nudist: Part 2.

EMMY, THE CLASS NUDIST: PART 2. EMMY GAINS A NEW NUDIST FRIEND.  Based on a post by WatchingCloud [https://www.literotica.com/authors/WatchingCloud/works/stories]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/steamy-winter-2026/EmmyTheClassNudist2.mp3] at My First Time. [https://feeds.feedburner.com/my-first-time] [https://archive.org/download/steamy-winter-2026/EmmyTheClassNudist2.jpg] Carson climbed the couple steps, feeling the abrasive texture of the springy board beneath his feet. The pool itself, lit by underwater lights, was particularly gorgeous and inviting at night. He glanced back at Emmy and found her smiling and waiting with her arms crossed. He sighed, took a quick approach to the end, bounced twice to get some elevation and then leaped off the end to land in a classic cannonball. The water was cool, but not near as bad as he had feared. By the time he surfaced, pulling himself clear of the diving area, he was already feeling comfortable.  He turned back and watched as Emmy focused herself on the board, staring off in the distance. She took a few confident steps toward the end and bounced like a professional before launching herself into the air. Carson couldn't help but watch the way her free tits bounced wildly, making him wonder if it might be uncomfortable to do that sort of thing without a swimsuit. Emmy flew into the air with her arms extended above her, then folded neatly in half and extended once again as she entered the water head first in a smooth line. It was simple, but elegant.  "Show off," Carson said when Emmy surfaced next to him.  "Whatever," she said as she ran her fingers through her hair to pull it back. "See, water's not too bad."  "Nah, it's nice. Bet this is really sweet in the summer time."  "We'll see. Only got warm enough to start using it a couple weeks ago."  For a blissful while, Carson and Emmy just aimlessly paddled around the pool while making small talk across all manner of subjects. They rarely strayed more than a few feet from one another, and occasionally brushed against one another. Carson's awareness of the girl's nudity further dissipated while she remained mostly submerged. Occasionally her tits would surface when they ventured into shallow water or she had a mind to swim on her back for a few strokes, but it was no longer a consuming distraction for him.  The one thought that kept returning to Carson through their conversation was how he regretted not having been a little more assertive in trying to get to know Emmy earlier in the semester. He hadn't been dating anyone regularly and now he discovered that they got along very easily. Never before had he been able to feel so comfortable talking to a girl he fancied, and she seemed to be just as relaxed in his presence.  "Could you excuse me for a minute? Need to hit the restroom." Carson had been fighting down the need to use the bathroom for a while, unwilling to break their rapport, but the discomfort had finally become too much of a distraction.  "Sure," she said. "I'll be here."  Carson lightly toweled off and headed inside. He knew there was a bathroom on the first floor, but it had the feel of being more of a showpiece with shell-shaped soaps and fancy hand towels than a functional facility. Instead of using that, he trotted upstairs to the bathroom across from Emmy's bedroom. He quickly relieved himself while his mind absently wondered about where this relationship might be going.  Finished, Carson stole into Emmy's room on a whim. He left the light off and peered out the back window at the pool below. Emmy was floating on her back in the middle of the water, her angelic figure dark against the blue glow of the underwater lights. It clicked in his mind that she had something he wanted, but it wasn't something she could give to him.  Carson returned to the bathroom and peeled off his shorts. He quickly wrung them out over the tub and then hung them over the edge. The cool, climate controlled air chilled his damp and now exposed nakedness. He suppressed a shiver, be it from the cold or nerves, and looked at himself in the mirror.  This was what he wanted, Carson realized as he looked at his reflection. He wanted the confidence and carefree attitude that Emmy had. It wasn't something that he was doing for her, but rather something that he needed to do for himself. Finally, he had found the courage to admit it to himself and to act upon his own desires.  As he walked back downstairs, Carson again had to fight down his agitated nerves. This time, however, it had very little to do with being nude. Granted, he was a little nervous at the prospect that Emmy's parents might come home at any time and disapprove. What really made him nervous, however, was the possibility that Emmy might take his sudden change of heart to be some sort of sexual overture toward her rather than an awakening in himself. The last thing he wanted was to come across to her as overly needy or desperate.  Carson paused before opening the doors to the patio. If he was going to change his mind and chicken out, this was his last opportunity. He caught a glimpse of Emmy slowly drifting along in the water and decided that there was no going back. He slid the door open and walked out into the warm evening air.  He walked toward the pool as casually as he could manage, neither in a hurry to hide in the water nor slowly in an effort to be seen. Emmy did notice him and paused in her swimming to face him. He could tell that she looked him up and down for just the briefest of moments, though her expression didn't change for a moment as she did so.  "As long as you're out, would you mind grabbing the beach ball?" That Emmy didn't even mention his nudity was an incredible relief to him. He wanted it to be no different than what she was used to; a non-factor. So far, so good.  "Sure," he said, heading over toward the bin with the pool toys and grabbing the requested ball.  "Thanks," she said, catching it as he tossed it to her.  Carson hopped into the pool from the side and let the cool water wash over him. The feeling of water moving over and around his scrotum unimpeded was a novel one. He found that the sense of freedom and weightlessness was rather enjoyable, enough so that he would likely miss it in the future when he had to swim properly clothed.  "Incoming," Emmy said, tossing him the ball from across the pool. Carson batted it back and soon they were engaged in a playful game of trying to keep it aloft without holding onto it. Soon after they had the knack of it down, they started intentionally making the return hits from the other more challenging, forcing wild lunges with splashing and submersion increasingly required.  Carson followed an errant ball into the deeper end of the pool. Rather than sending it back into play, however, he heaved himself up on the ball, wrapped his arms around it, and half submerged it as he used it as a floatation device. He glanced back at Emmy as he slowly started to paddle further away.  "Hey, where are you going with my ball?" she said playfully.  "Oh, just out and about," he said. "You sent me this way, after all."  Emmy swam after him and quickly caught up. She positioned herself on the opposite side of the ball and wrapped her arms around it as well, overlapping his. Their heads were scarcely a foot apart as they rested their chins on the ball and their feet occasionally brushed one another as they lazily swung them around for stability.  "Kinda nice to just float around sometimes," Emmy said.  "Yeah, especially after you had me running all over the place after the ball."  "Like you weren't doing the same to me."  "Whatever."  "I noticed you seem to have lost something while you were inside," Emmy said, innocently enough that she was clearly trying to broach the subject without making a deal out of it.  "Yeah, funny thing that," Carson said. "I know I had some inhibitions when I went in there and, you know, they just seem to have gotten misplaced."  Emmy joined him in smiling at his joke. "I'll keep an eye out for them," she said. "And, if I do find them, I'll see to it they're never heard from again."  "Thanks. Seriously, though, it was something I realized I wanted to do after seeing how comfortable you could be with it. Just took me a little longer to accept it myself."  "That's great. I'm really proud of you. It's not something that people can come to very easily if they weren't raised doing it."  "I'm sure. Granted, it's not like I'm doing this in front of a whole bunch of people or anything."  "Honestly, I think it's easier when there are lots of people around," Emmy said. "You feel more like part of the crowd rather than an individual. Not the easiest thing to describe, I guess."  "I suppose I could see that," Carson said. "Well, at least as long as most everyone else was also naked."  "I hope you didn't feel like I was pressuring you or anything."  "No, not at all. If anything, you were almost too casual about it. I like you enough that I think I'd have done just about anything you asked."  CANDID CONFESSIONS. Emmy appeared to blush. "You like me, huh?"  "Yeah."  "Good."  "Good?"  "Yeah, cuz I like you too. And I'm really glad you came over."  "Me too."  An awkward silence descended between the two of them as they just floated there lazily, gazing into one-another's eyes. Carson wondered if they might have snapped the magical spell of their budding relationship by being just a little too forthcoming with their feelings so soon. The little smile that cracked in the corner of Emmy's mouth allayed his fears, though.  "So, you'd have done just about anything I asked?" Emmy raised a curious eyebrow at him.  "Yeah, probably," Carson said.  "What if I'd asked you to kiss me?"  Carson's heart skipped a beat, even as he thought he heard a nervous crack in Emmy's voice when she asked the question. They both wanted it and she was at least brave enough to bring it up.  "I'd certainly have done that," Carson said, trying to sound far smoother than he felt.  Subconsciously or not, the gap between their faces across the beach ball had slowly closed until they were now just inches apart. Below the ball, when their feet brushed together, the contact lingered longer and longer. Carson was acutely aware that the back of his hands around the far side of the ball were in constant contact with her chest, just below her tits.  "Would you?" Emmy began to say.  Carson leaned forward and Emmy did so as well, their lips meeting and muffling anything else she might have said. Their kisses were light and tentative, just brushing the outside of their lips together with varying pressure and for increasing duration. He felt her mouth open slightly and their tongues soon began a similar slow dance of exploration.  After several blissful minutes of silent kissing, Carson found his neck getting sore from the awkward position leaning across the beach ball. He broke off the kiss and they shyly looked at one another. Both were grinning enough to let the other know that this was a very okay thing that was happening between them. Carson tossed the ball out of the pool, leaving them holding hands while using their feet to tread water in the deeper part of the pool.  "Maybe we should go somewhere we can stand, so we don't drown," Emmy said, barely above a whisper.  Hand in hand, they swam toward the midpoint of the pool where they both could comfortably touch the bottom. Immediately, they were kissing again, this time with their arms wrapped around one another. Carson was intensely aware that his growing erection was bumping up against her waist and he hoped that she wouldn't be bothered by the uncontrollable reaction.  For several blissful minutes, they simply held one another and kissed, reveling in the nuances of one another's taste and feel. Carson resisted the urge to let his hands roam her body, instead keeping them safely on her back and occasionally daring to massage her ass. Making out with a girl for the first time while nude was entirely new territory for him, and he was inclined to let her take the lead in establishing what sort of contact was okay. As long as she was only engaging in kissing and holding, then he would do the same.  "You know, you're a pretty good kisser," Emmy said when they both finally came up for a breather. The way her eyes sparkled made Carson's heart flutter.  "You're not," he said.  "What?" Emmy's eyes went wide as she pushed away from him.  "No, you're not pretty good. You're fantastic."  "Dork," she said, splashing him in the face with water.  Carson laughed and dove under the water, swimming back toward Emmy until he was able to wrap an arm around her waist. He surfaced, picking her up with him and tossing her a short distance away as she yelped in surprise.  "How dare you?" she said in mock anger once she had wiped the water from her eyes.  "Hey, you started it," he said.  Emmy rolled her eyes. "I need a drink," she said. "You want anything?"  Carson felt a little disappointed in that she seemed to be signaling an end to their little make out session. Still, he had hopes it was just the beginning of something bigger and better. He just had to make sure he could find the restraint to take it slow.  "Yeah, sure," he said. "I'll come along."  Carson followed Emmy as she climbed out of the pool and walked over to her towel. For having spent the last hour with her naked, she had been under water for most of the time. Now, after their make out and the attending surge of hormones, he was unable to take his eyes off her. She would never make it a model, but to his eyes she was wonderfully attractive and desirable; particularly in her self-assuredness.  Watching her towel off was even more enjoyable than watching her walk. The way her curves moved as she touched herself through the terrycloth was riveting. Under his own towel, he tried in vain to calm down his erection that had sprung back to life after almost relaxing prior to exiting the pool.  "Might want to be careful where you point that thing," Emmy said while he was busy toweling off his hair.  Carson flushed with embarrassment when he realized that she was looking at his cock and smiling wryly. He still didn't know where the boundaries of propriety sat between them and was worried that his body had led him over the line.  "I'm sorry," he said, weakly trying to cover himself with his towel.  "No, no, don't be," she said, the tone of her voice abruptly changing to one of guilt. "I'm sorry. It's rude to point out that sort of thing."  "Just, well, it's not something I can really control," he said.  "I know," she said. "And I'm sorry I said anything. Really, I don't mind. At all."  Carson stood frozen as Emmy reached for his towel and tossed it aside on a lounge chair. She looked blatantly at his cock which twitched slightly as it pointed straight at her. Biting her lower lip, she reached out and gently ran the tips of her fingers along the underside of its length. Carson gasped involuntarily at the surge of accompanying sensation.  "Guess the usual nudist rules don't exactly have to apply right now," she said. "Not when we're alone."  "Does this sort of thing happen often to guys? You know, like at the camps and things you do?"  "No," she said. "Well, not real often, anyway. It does once in a while, though, and it's considered rude to make a big deal of it. Usually, it'll settle back down quickly enough. I think it's probably easier for guys to stay relaxed when in bigger groups of people just hanging out than when alone and; well, making out."  "Yeah, I would imagine so," he said.  Emmy let her fingers drop from him, though she almost seemed a little reluctant in doing so. "Sorry, I didn't really mean to get you so worked up. I did want to kiss you. Guess I shouldn't have been surprised at anything else since we are naked and all."  "New experience for me," he said.  "Me too."  "Really?"  "Well, the making out part," Emmy said. She nodded her head toward the door and led the way back to the house. "Not that I haven't made out before, but I just haven't done it while naked with a guy."  "So, you haven't had any boyfriends from any of the nudist groups?"  "Nah. Couple guys have hit on me and I'm fine with hanging out with them and all, but I wasn't really up for more than that."  "So I'm your first."  "Yup."  "Firsts all around tonight, then." In a way, Carson found the revelation to put him much more at ease about the whole nudity aspect of the evening to know they were both in somewhat unfamiliar territory. At least they were doing it together, and so far it was going pretty darn well.  Emmy poured two glasses of lemonade and they both quickly drained and refilled them. Carson leaned casually against one of the kitchen counter tops, marveling at how surreal and yet wonderful this evening had ended up. Three days ago, it idea of pleasantly chit chatting in Emmy's kitchen, both nude, was inconceivable. It was all he could do not to smile uncontrollably at the strange twists of fate.      The sound of a door opening somewhere in the house startled Carson, effectively deflating what little was left of his relaxing erection. Emmy recognized his immediate discomfort and quickly placed a reassuring hand on his arm.  "Just my parents getting back from their show," she said.  "And they'll be okay with this?" Even for a family of nudists, he found it difficult to wrap his mind around the idea that the parents of a teenage daughter would be okay with finding her hanging out with a naked boy in the middle of the kitchen. She might be legally an adult, but not by much.  "Yeah," she said. "Just relax and don't make a big deal of it."  Emmy made it sound so easy, but Carson could tell that she understood his discomfort and sympathized. Moments later, her parents walked into the kitchen, still dressed up nicely from their evening out. It required every bit of his nerve to just stand there and act like there was nothing out of sorts while they took in the scene. To his amazement, neither blinked twice.  "Hello Carson," her father said. "Nice to see you again."  "You too, sir," Carson managed to say, giving an abbreviated wave.  "How did the studying go?" her mother asked.  "Went very well," Emmy said. "We got through all the material by dinner."  "That's great," her mother said, giving Carson an appreciative smile. "It was so nice of you to help out, especially this close to finals when you probably have studying of your own to do."  "It was no problem," Carson said. "If anything, it was probably more useful to me than just s

20 jun 20261 h 0 min