My First Time

Discovering a new dynamic, called sexuality.

Tue, 01 Apr 2025 08:31:36 -0600

Discovering a new dynamic, called sexuality.

Tue, 01 Apr 2025 03:16:34 -0600

Discovering a new dynamic, called sexuality.

Mon, 31 Mar 2025 13:47:27 -0600

Discovering a new dynamic, called sexuality.

Mon, 31 Mar 2025 08:31:23 -0600

Discovering a new dynamic, called sexuality.

Mon, 31 Mar 2025 03:16:30 -0600

Discovering a new dynamic, called sexuality.

Sun, 30 Mar 2025 13:46:38 -0600

Discovering a new dynamic, called sexuality.

My First Time Podcast presents: Cast-aways At College: Part 1 Click…

Sun, 30 Mar 2025 11:07:06 -0600

My First Time Podcast presents:
Cast-aways At College: Part 1
Click http://my-first-time-story.blogspot.com/2024/03/cast-aways-at-college-part-1.html, to listen to the podcast.
and
https://feeds.feedburner.com/my-first-time/ to subscribe in your podcast app.

Sun, 30 Mar 2025 11:07:05 -0600

An April Fools Prank Goes Awry

By SilverFoxMullet - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Spring break was just that, a break. My leg, actually.

When I went home to Ottawa for spring break, I met up with a few of my old high school buds, and we took a day trip to the Quebec side for some skiing at one of the nearby hills, north of Ottawa. Mid afternoon, I hit a patch of ice and went down hard. It was quite a day for falls, as the hills were pretty icy this late in the season. I tried to get up, but my right ankle hurt like a bitch. None of my friends had stopped, as we were all falling a lot today, they just assumed I would get up and follow them.

"Aw fuck!" I groaned. I lay there in the snow for a few minutes, until someone slid to a stop next to me.

"Hey, are you all right?" the guy asks.

"No, I hurt my ankle. Fuck."

"Don't move it, I'll find the ski patrol. Hang on." He skied away to get help.

30 seconds later another guy stopped. Same question. "Hey are you all right?"

"I think I sprained my ankle. There was a guy here a minute ago, he said he'd send the ski patrol."

The guy turned and looked around, then waved and yelled "Ici! Over here! Vien! Here they are."

Two guys in red jackets stopped and asked what's wrong. This other guy said "Good luck!" to me, and skied away, as I recounted the fall and my symptoms. The ski patrol guys were great, they radioed for a stretcher and 20 minutes later they're loading me into an ambulance. The rest of the day was a lot of waiting, x-rays, and paperwork. The local hospital had a seasonal trauma unit for all the ski injuries, and they're used to dealing with the inter-provincial healthcare.

I called my Dad, who said he'd fetch me from the hospital, then called my buddies who were still in the chalet’. He told them to go home without me. They commiserated and said they'd drop by my house tomorrow and see how I was doing.

I eventually got a cast on my right leg. It spanned from my toes to my mid-thigh. I was issued a pair of crutches, and a whole ream of instructions (in both French and English of course) about what to do and what not to do. My Dad showed up somewhere during this tedious process and reassured me everything would be fine.

We got home really late, after stopping at a pharmacy for pain meds, and stopping for takeout, damn I was hungry by then. I was asleep in minutes after I took one of those pills after getting home.

Next morning, I had to take another pill, damn leg was throbbing like mad. I had to learn how to negotiate using the toilet with crutches, fuck, that's pain in the arse. Then I had to figure out how to shower. They gave me a shower bag for the cast but I couldn't get the damn thing on by myself. Mom was trying to be motherly (naturally) but I was way too embarrassed to be seen naked in front of her. My Dad was a trooper, he helped me with all the bathroom stuff, and I got my shower OK.

I wasn't going to be able to drive for a while, so my folks said they'd drive me back to school in Toronto. I could come home by bus and get my car once I was able to drive. Great.

"Actually, if I could have my car on campus, one of my buddies could drive me around. None of the other guys have a car." Not that my rattly old car was much of a ride, but it got us from A to B.

"OK" my Dad says, "Your mother can drive you there, and I'll follow in your car, then we'll drive back together."

"Awesome, sounds like a plan!"

The rest of the day my parents helped me work out how to deal with the cast and crutches and take care of personal stuff by myself, like getting dressed, showering, shaving (yeah, ever try to balance on one foot to shave? fuckin hell), and using the toilet. My mom went shopping and bought me a bunch of baggy sweat pants, something that would go over my cast.

My old friends dropped by with some hard coolers the next day, thinking it would cheer me up; but I had to pass on those due to the meds I was on. They laughed at me and drank it all, themselves. We all had a good laugh about my predicament, and they wished me luck at college. Gonna need it, eh?

Then it was time to head back to school. I'd been texting and calling my buddies at school, told them the whole idiot story of my misadventures. They laughed at me big time, and of course they worried about their ride, what was gonna happen to my car? I told them about the arrangements and they were happy that it would still be available.

The drive to school was really tedious, seemed to last forever, because it was so fricking uncomfortable to sit there with that stiff cast on. They got me and my stuff into my room in the dorm, and said their good-byes. I was so happy that I was on the first floor! No stairs here but there were stairs all over campus. Sure, there's elevators everywhere but I didn't know where most of them were.

First order of business, I gotta pee after that road trip. I used the big accessible stall in the bathroom, that was great. Grab bars, lots of room, it really was made for this kind of thing. Easier than the bathroom at home, that's for sure.

I was the butt of a lot of jokes and shit for the first few days, but otherwise it was fine. Down in the dining hall I spotted someone else who'd had a fun spring break. There was a girl with her whole arm in a cast, like from shoulder to wrist, with the elbow bent at 90 degrees. I wondered what happened to her. Skiing too I supposed. My buddies said we'd make a great couple and told me to go ask her out. No way, dudes, not gonna happen. I can't talk to girls, I always get freaked out and clam up.

The end of March rolled around, and I still had weeks to go before getting my cast off. There was a party on Saturday night, and I was weaning off the strong meds by now so I could have a few drinks. My floor mates were getting me drinks, too; so I ended up having a few more than I would normally have. I was feeling buzzed by the end of the night.

One of the guys suddenly showed up with a wheelchair. "Robbo! we got you some wheels, man!"

"Where'd you steal that from?" I asked, a little dubious about the idea of them scamming someone's chair.

"No No, totally not stolen, we got it for you from the Red Cross. It's legit, dude!"

"All right! Let's check out my new ride then!" I hopped over and settled into the chair. They adjusted the footrest out for me and one of them took my crutches, and they started wheeling me away.

"Where we goin?" I asked.

"It's a surprise." says one of them, and then pull a pillowcase down over my head so I can't see where we're going. When I try to pull the covering off, they stopped me, and then the started grabbing my arms & duct taping them to the chair's armrests. We were outside by now, and I started yelling, until they taped the pillowcase tight against my mouth, to muff my yelling. Now I was getting pissed, but there's not much I could do, except literally ride this out.

They laughed and giggled and make goofy jokes as they wheeled me around campus. EventuallyI had no idea where I am, and it suddenly strikes me that it was now April 1st. The alcoholic buzz is wearing off fast under the rush of my adrenaline and anger, and I wondered what kind of demented nightmare game they've come up with.

I heard more laughing, girls this time, and they make whispered comments back and forth with the guys. I’m now in a building, but I had no clue where. My chair was pushed around some more, bumping into stuff, and then a body is dumped in my lap, then they yanked the duct tape off the pillowcase and I can again my mouth. The room is pitch black. The giggling and laughing is cut off by the slamming of a door, and everything goes quiet.

I think there's a girl in my lap, or a small, really nice smelling guy with long hair. She's quiescent, asleep or passed out, pressed against my chest.

"Hey. Hey, wake up." I said.

No response, she's just sitting there, draped over my lap. She's warm and breathing, so it's not a manikin or something. I wondered if she's okay.

I started to shift a bit, can't use my arms because they're taped down, but I try to shake her awake with my rocking shoulders. It didn't work, and now I'm afraid that if I move too much she'll fall off onto the floor.

"Hey, uh, miss, wake up." louder. She's out of it. I turn my head to the side so I'm not yelling in her ear and holler "Hey, enough crap, let me out of here!" Silence reigns. Well, fuck. Now what?

'Now what'. Then the fire alarm starts blaring. It startles the heck out of me, but still isn't enough to wake the girl. I heard loud commotion in the halls for about 30 seconds, but then suddenly there is silence. Fuck, this is getting serious. What if it's a real fire? No, no way, it's April 1st now, gotta be a prank. I'll just wait for her to wake up, and we'll get out of here. My eyes adjusted to the darkness and I began to see faint outlines of what is probably a maintenance closet or storage room.

The alarm rings for an annoyingly long time. 15 minutes I guess, I dunno, but it seems interminable. And I need to pee now. When the alarm finally stops the need to pee gets more insistent. I shifted uncomfortably under the weight of my passenger. Her hip is pressed up against my groin, adding to the struggle of my urge to piss.

More time passes, and damn, I gotta go bad, now. I'm gonna wet myself, and her too, if I don't get out of here right now. I've tried speaking to her, yelling, shaking her, and then there was another alarm that went on and on. She just isn't gonna wake up. Did those morons drug her or something?

I'm desperate now. "Come on, sleeping beauty, wake up!"

Sleeping beauty? Yeah, fine, I'll try that before I piss all over her. I think a girl would be slightly less angry about a stolen kiss than wet pants. So I seek her mouth. There was a little light coming in under the door, but suddenly that light went out, and only a faint intermittent light glowed. Oh, crap! That would be the emergency exit lighting.

I eventually bumped my faced against her nose, then lowered a bit and kissed her, probably a little too hard for a wakeup smooch, cause I'm dyin' here, gotta pee, gotta pee, gotta pee.

She's got nice soft lips, really quite kissable, and I kinda wished she was awake and under different circumstances. I kissed her again, even harder. No response. I try again, this time I let my tongue do the talking, and I push into her mouth. Helluva way to experience my own first ‘tongue-kiss’. Finally, she stirred & turned into the kiss.

Surprised, I pull back, and say "Oh thank god you're awake, help me up!"

She startled, yelping at me, "Who are you?!"

"Help me, please, I'm gonna piss my pants! Untie me!"

In the dim red glow of an exit sign I finally saw her face. She's kinda cute, not particularly pretty, and she has a cast on her right arm. It's the girl I saw in the dining hall a few times.

"Hurry!" I pleaded.

She struggled off me, and stood. “Where the hell did you take me!” she demanded.
I told her that we were both abducted by campus hooligans and locked in some storage room, but I didn’t know which building. Then I said; “But I gotta pee right now and my leg is in a cast, and I’m bound to this wheelchair.

She felt the tape on my wrists. It's slow going for her to undo the tape with her one weak hand, the way she's pulling at it, she's obviously not left handed.

I'm not gonna make it, and I looked around. We're in a janitor's room or something. I spotted a stack of small waste baskets. "Quick, grab one of those buckets and put it between my legs."

She's quick on the uptake, I'll give her that, and she grabbed the bucket for me. "Pull my pants down, hurry."

"What? No!" she protested.

"Arrrrggghhh. Please, I'm gonna wet myself." I grind out through my clenched teeth.

She reached out with that uncoordinated left hand of hers and fumbles with my sweat pants. I squirmed to lift my hips a bit to help, and the elastic waistband slipped down, exposing my tight briefs.

"You gotta help. Pull me out, aim for the bucket. Please?"

I can see she's not happy with the situation, and she's fighting with her distaste at touching a man, a total stranger at that, in such a bizarre circumstance. But she perseveres, and that delicate hand fishes in my shorts for my cock. She paused momentarily as she made contact, then pulled my cock free. She picked up the empty bucket and aimed my ‘hose’ toward the container.

I groaned as I let loose. Oh god, finally! The relief was incredible. The poor girl was acting shocked as she dutifully aimed me at the bucket, and she even nudged the bucket a bit closer. I pissed on and on, holy fuck there was so much, and eventually I ran dry.

Her disposition is no longer shocked, but instead she appeared to be curious.

"Oh thank you, you saved me so much embarrassment. You can put me back in there now. Thanks."

She hesitated, and timidly tried to one-handedly stuff my cock back through the fly, and after a couple of clumsy tries I'm all set. And of course now my cock was growing fast in her hand, as I no longer had to pee, but there's a wonderful-smelling girl handling that most sensitive part of my anatomy. Something that's never happened before.

That last drop of pee evidently got on her hand, and she looked a bit frantic now, "Ew" she says.

"Just wipe it on my sweats, it's OK." I told her, and she rubbed her hand on my inner thigh. That doesn't help with my ever increasing boner of course.

She looked up at me, and her brow wrinkled. "Do you smell smoke?" she asked.

It's my turn to be startled, and I looked toward the door. Oh Fuck, there's smoke coming in under the door! That alarm was real! Why wasn't it still going off? "Quick, help me get this tape off!" She started trying to pull up my sweats, but I say "No, leave that, just get me undone!"

She started working on the tape on my left arm, and it took a few minutes to get me free. Working together, my right arm is unstuck in less than a minute. "Check the door." I told her as I looked around the room. No other doors, just shelves, a big sink, a floor pan for filling and emptying mop buckets, and stacks of boxes and stuff.

She tried the light switch but it doesn't work. Great, my idiot friends probably unscrewed the light bulb. Then she tried the door. "It's locked!" she says.

"From the outside? Why the fuck would it be set up to lock people in? Sorry. I swear when I get nervous."

"Is there really a fire, do you think?"

"I guess so, there was an alarm that went off when you were out cold."

"What do we do?" She started frantically searching her pockets and said; "I can't find my phone!"

"I didn't even bring mine to the party. No pockets."

The smell of smoke got stronger. I wheeled up next to the sink, and ran some water. Grabbing a package of paper towels, I ripped it open and dumped them in the sink. "Here, block up the crack under the door with these!"

I handed her wads of soggy paper, and she knelt down to stuff them under the door. The smoke stoped coming in, thank goodness. But now the room is black. "Now what?" she said.

I shrugged, "I guess we wait and hope."

"I'm scared." she said in a small voice.

"Come here, sit on my lap here. Oh, uh, maybe pull up my pants first." She helped me with that and sat on me. I think the gravity of the situation is now hitting her pretty hard, I know it's got me freaked out. She burrowed into my neck and wraps her good arm wraps around me. "We're OK for now." I tell her.

I smelled her hair again, as she's crushed against me. Damn that feels nice. Shit, I don't even know her name. "I'm Robert by the way. Robert Green."

"Suzanne. Suzanne Shelton.", she informed me.

"I'd say pleased to meet you Suzanne, but under these circumstances, maybe the sentiment should be I'm ecstatic to meet you. If I was by myself I would have pissed my pants and suffocated."

She giggled, my goofy sense of humour somehow helped in this situation. "I'm glad to meet you too, Robert."

"So how did you get here?"

"I don't know, I was at the dorm party and felt dizzy, then you were kissing me." She blushed again.

"Sorry about that, I tried to wake you for like 20 minutes, but you were really out of it. I finally thought I would try the sleeping beauty trick, and it worked. Did you drink something someone else gave you?"

"Oh. Shit.” She seemed to recall. “I think so. One of my floor mates gave me a coke. It must have been spiked? I had to take some of my pain meds for my arm earlier tonight, it was bothering me. I keep trying to do too much with it all the time."

"Oh, yeah, you don't want to mix booze or anything with that stuff, I know! Sorry about the pee episode. I really was going to wet my pants in another few seconds. Wet both our pants."

She blushed and giggled. "I never saw a guy like that, like your, thing, before."

"Wow. Okay, well, I never had a girl touch my co-, um, thing, before."

"It changed when I was putting it away. Was that, um, like...'

"Yeah, well, when a pretty girl touches me like that, I'm bound to get aroused."

Her eyes went wide at that statement. "Oh" she said. She paused a few seconds, then put her head back on my shoulder. There was that scent again. "So. Um, you think I'm pretty?"

"Well, yeah, of course. You're what I think my grandpa would call 'fetching'"

She giggled again. Damn, that sounds nice, and she smells really nice. Little Robert stirred down below. I heard a sharp intake of breath. Uh Oh. She felt that. I may have just ruined what might have been a moment.

"Am I pretty enough to make you, uh, aroused, then?"

"Oh, Suzanne, I am so embarrassed. Please, don't be offended, it's just circumstances, you know?"

She pulled back again and looked at the door. Still no smoke. Then she looked at me with a sad smile, saying "I didn't think so." Suzanne started to get up, and I realized where our wires had crossed.

I put my arms around her and said " Oh, no no. You're very pretty, and definitely arousing."

She looked surprised, but settled back down on my lap. "Oh." she said. "Thank you."

Just then we heard a muffled sound of footsteps outside the door. We both yelled, and I grabbed a mop handle and rapped it against the door. The door opened, and a cloud of smoke poured in. A firefighter stood there, looking surprised behind his breathing apparatus. He hollered for help, and we were soon moved briskly from the building.

I was parked in my wheelchair next to the ambulance, where Suzanne was sitting on a gurney. We both had been given oxygen and been checked over for injuries. We told campus security about how we came to be there, and they got really grim. I named names, because I could've died there, we both could've died. It was a prank, but it went sideways pretty fast when that fire broke out. Cops came over and Suzanne also named a couple of girls who she thought were in on it too. Now we were finally cleared to go.

"Can I walk you back to the dorms?" I asked.

She laughed, "Don't you mean wheel me? You can't walk."

"Can too, if I had my crutches. My idiot friends left me with this chair."

"Okay, then, let's go." She beamed.

Off we went. She couldn't push me with just one hand, and I was crap at navigating that chair, but we eventually got back to the residence. We chatted amiably along the way, getting to know each other. She was really easy to talk to, unlike most girls I've tried to talk to. Maybe that was it, I wasn't chatting her up.

She was 18, a biology major, living in in the next dorm over. I told her I was in second year Computer Science, in the nearby dorm, so I had a single room.

I told her how I broke my leg, skiing near Gatineau, and the really long day I had as a result. "How did you break your arm?"

"Skating. I'm usually a good skater but sometimes you just fall wrong. I spent most of that same day in the ER, just like you. It's really hard to get dressed and shower and stuff with this thing."

"I know, believe me, I know all about it."

We were both so fired up on adrenaline after our ordeal there was no way we could sleep. "Would you like to, uh, come over to my room, for a bit? After all this, I'm not tired, and I'd b

Discovering a new dynamic, called sexuality.

Sun, 30 Mar 2025 08:31:03 -0600

Discovering a new dynamic, called sexuality.

Sun, 30 Mar 2025 03:16:38 -0600

Discovering a new dynamic, called sexuality.

Sat, 29 Mar 2025 13:46:54 -0600

Discovering a new dynamic, called sexuality.

Sat, 29 Mar 2025 08:31:36 -0600

Discovering a new dynamic, called sexuality.

Sat, 29 Mar 2025 03:16:35 -0600

Discovering a new dynamic, called sexuality.

Fri, 28 Mar 2025 13:46:53 -0600

Discovering a new dynamic, called sexuality.

My First Time Podcast presents: The Freak: Part 3 Click…

Fri, 28 Mar 2025 09:59:07 -0600

My First Time Podcast presents:
The Freak: Part 3
Click http://my-first-time-story.blogspot.com/2025/03/the-freak-part-3.html, to listen to the podcast.
and
https://feeds.feedburner.com/my-first-time/ to subscribe in your podcast app.

Fri, 28 Mar 2025 09:59:06 -0600

“Well, every time you came I got flooded. I don’t know what it was, but I’m glad I was able to do it for you.”

She moved up a bit to look me straight in my eyes. “Me, too,” she whispered just before pressing those sweet plump lips into mine once again. I checked out the dashboard clock and pointed at it; 3:26, time to head on home.

Everyone was asleep when we walked through the back door. We turned left so Barbara could take a quick shower. She had left her night gown and robe here in anticipation. I closed the bathroom door and began to turn the couch into my bed when I felt a hand on my arm. Barbara was standing there naked. Damn, but she was a beautiful woman. “Come and join me,” she whispered.

I laughed. “Funny! You have got to be kidding. There is no way that two of us will fit in there. It’s all I can do on my own. Thanks for the offer, though; maybe someday, but not tonight.” I gave her a quick kiss and she returned to the bathroom, a pout on her face. Ten minutes later she came out, kissed me quickly and walked to the living room. I followed so I could turn the stairway lights on for her and off once she was safely upstairs. I showered quickly, mostly to wash my groin and my face, knowing what my parents would think if they saw me covered with Barbara’s juice. It was almost four by the time I crawled under the covers.

We slept in New Year’s Day and I would have stayed in bed after 10:00 had I not been invaded by an eight year-old monster named Carole. “C’mon, J.J., get up so we can play.” Did I mention that she was jumping on my chest at the time?

“What time did you go to bed last night?”

“Mom and Dad let me stay up until 10:00.”

“That’s great! I stayed up until four. Let me see; ten is bigger than four so you must have been up later than me.”

She responded with a scowl. “Even I know that’s not true. You need to get up. Barbara’s already up and dressed. C’mon!”

“Ugh! It’s a good thing that I love you.” I growled and Carole scampered away screaming down the hallway. Thank God I wasn’t a drinker. J didn’t know how I could handle a hangover considering how tired I was. I struggled out of bed to shave, run a comb through my generally unruly short hair, and brush my teeth, dressing in a Harvard sweatshirt, jeans, and slippers. Then I made my bed, turning it back into a couch before yawning my way to the kitchen.

Barbara was there getting a cup of coffee. I wrapped my arm around her waist and she moved up for a quick kiss. That was accompanied by a giggle from the breakfast nook. Knowing that Carole was watching, I moved in for a real kiss. Mom and Dad already knew of my intentions even if Barbara didn’t so I wasn’t worried that they’d say anything. Of course, the giggling was non-stop through the entire kiss. I broke it and jumped into the nook, grabbing Carole and swinging her around while I hugged and kissed her. Her giggling turned to loud laughter which stopped only when Dad complained of an after New Year’s headache. I felt real sympathy, knowing how I felt without one.

Barbara and I had only a light breakfast of pastries and doughnuts from the bakery. I broiled hot dogs for lunch then we retired to the living room for the traditional football games. Barbara sat on the couch where she had been on Christmas and I sat on the floor at her feet. She rubbed my neck and ran her fingers through my hair for most of the afternoon. Around three she moved to the kitchen to help Mom with the dinner. Carole and I helped by setting the table.

We ate dinner as one big and happy family before I walked outside with Barbara to drive her home. Tomorrow was Sunday so I’d see her early for Mass, knowing that we’d spend the entire day and much of the night together. Somehow, my need for seven days of basketball a week had ebbed, replaced by a greater need; a need to love and be loved and to be with that one special person. I let Barbara take the Olds home with her Sunday night so we could spend time together after Tuesday’s game.

January and February are the months when the basketball season kicks into high gear. Every game is a league game and every game counts toward that elusive league championship. Well, it was elusive if you played at a school other than ours over the past four years. There was pressure though; the pressure of being ranked number one; the pressure of having a target on your back every time you stepped onto the court. Despite the pressure we ran the table, winning every game by a wide margin.

I had expected to play against every junk defense in the book; box and one, triangle and two, and every variant that was ever devised. There were two big problems with this approach. The first was that I never cared how many points I scored; doubling me had to leave someone else open and my teammates were all very good players in their own right. Doubling me led to more open layups for them than I could count. The other problem was that the smaller guards couldn’t leap with me and the bigger layers were just too slow. You’re not supposed to be able to drive through a zone, but I drove for layup after layup most games. When I couldn’t score I gladly passed to a cutting teammate. Could I make All-American playing this way? Who cared? All that mattered was that we won.

There are four classes of schools in New York; A, B, C, and D; based on school enrollment. Tuckahoe was in Class D. Our success over the past four years meant that we could go anywhere we wanted to in the tourney to play against any class of opponent. Some of us wanted to go into Class A. Most of our opponents had been in Class B or higher, but I argued for us to stay in Class D. “Let the bigger schools beat each other up. Guys will get hurt. Guys will get tired. We’ll meet the best in the inter-class finals just as we have in the past.”

That was what we did and, sure enough, New Rochelle faltered in the A semis and so did Mount Vernon, another highly ranked school from our area. One of the lesser schools won the A competition and the same thing happened in the Class B finals. We blew the Class C champs out of the gym and the following night we whipped the A Champs. They were exhausted from their game against the B winners. Our starters had only played about half of our game the previous night. I won the center jump, one of the few that were actually contested and scored on our much practiced opening play, rubbing my man off on Eli’s strong broad body for a crashing dunk. We pressed full court and ran at every opportunity. For all purposes, the game was over at the half when we had built a twenty point lead. Instead of relaxing we shifted into overdrive and, once again, the basket looked to be as big as the ocean. I couldn’t and didn’t miss and neither did my teammates. We had our fifth consecutive state championship. Three of us made the all-tournament team; three out of ten. Our win streak was at 129 when the season ended.

Best of all; Barbara was there with me every step of the way, even staying overnight in a room with my sisters during the two finals weekends. She was one of many who stormed the court first when we won the Class D State Championship and, finally, when we won the whole shebang. She was the only one of that horde, however, to greet me with a searing kiss.

It was the last week in March and I had just driven to our favorite parking place after an early night of bowling. Soon the outdoor movies would open and we could look forward to an entire night of making out. So far Barbara and I had done everything sexually other than fucking. I loved her enough that I wasn’t going to push it. We were sitting together holding each other knowing that we had plenty of time for sexual activities later. Barbara broke our kiss and looked up at me, her pleading voice just above a whisper. “Jack, what’s going to happen to us once we graduate?”

“I think we’re going to stay together. We will if I have anything to say about it.”

“But how? You’re going to Harvard and I’m staying here to attend St. Elizabeth Seton. We won’t see each other for months.”

“No; you need to come to Massachusetts with me.”

“How can I do that? Where would I live?”

I could see that Barbara was almost in tears and I would never want that. I leaned down to kiss her then opened my door to get out. “Do me a favor and scoot over here a bit. Please?” I gave her a quick peck and got out, walking around the back of the car and getting back in on the passenger side. My right knee was on the car floor and my left foot was on the asphalt as I reached into the glove box to get a plain brown paper lunch bag. Mom had hundreds of them for Carole and even Marie on occasion.

Taking her hands in mine I began to speak. “Barbara, you know that I dated quite a few girls before you, but I’ve never once told a girl that I loved her, not until this very second. Barbara, I think I fell in love with you even before I caught you in front of St. Catharine’s. I am so totally in love with you that it’s scary. I told you about the flash where I saw you fall, but I never told you about the other flash that day nor about the hundreds I’ve had since then; flashes about our love and life with each other.”

I could see her start to understand and she smiled broadly as I continued. “Barbara, I hate being away from you for even a single night now so I can’t imagine what being away from you for months would be like. Actually, I can; it would be the closest thing to hell for me. What I’m doing here in case you haven’t figured it out yet is asking you to marry me. I promise that I will love and cherish and protect you forever, maybe even longer.”

I reached into the bag to retrieve the small blue velvet box from Harry Winston. Barbara hadn’t said a word, but she did push her finger out to me. There were tears in her eyes as I slipped the ring onto her finger. Once it was on she pulled me to her for the hottest kiss of my life. Then she whispered in my ear. “Jack. I have loved you for so long; as long as I’ve known you. I want more than anything to make love with you. I’ve wanted that for quite a while, too. I want to feel you inside me. I only wish I could feel you spurt into my womb, but that will have to wait; for a while, anyway. Can we get into the back seat?”

After a tight hug and a tender kiss I replied, “I think you deserve a real bed for our first time. You want to drive?”

“No, I want to cuddle up next to you and look at my ring. Was it expensive? I’ll bet it was!” She leaned forward again to kiss me then shooed me out the door. I drove us to Nepperhan Avenue, one of the main drags in Yonkers where I had seen some old fashioned motels; the kind that are a bunch of individual small cabins; on our way to an away game. We were there in less than thirty minutes. I handed Barbara a pocketful of change, telling her, “Why don’t you phone Mrs. Gleason and tell her you’ll be late. Be sure you tell her why; the engagement why not the making love why.” Barbara laughed then hugged and kissed me before slipping into the phone booth. (Remember! This was 1961 when such things were commonplace.) I walked into the motel office to register.

“I’d like to rent a room, please.”

He looked me over closely before responding. “Are you actually old enough?”

“My attorney tells me that one must be eighteen to legally sign a contract so the answer is ‘yes.’ I have my passport in my pocket if you like.” He responded by holding his hand out and I passed it to him. He spent more than a minute checking the photo and my date of birth before returning it to me.

“I suppose the woman outside is your wife.”

“Not yet, but we just became engaged tonight. She wants to make love and I thought her first time should be in a real bed as opposed to my back seat.”

“First time? Yes, I guess I can see why you’d like that to be special. Fifteen bucks and I don’t expect to have any trouble.”

“There won’t be any. I have too much to lose; a full ride to Harvard being at the top of the list.”

“Wow,” he said as he made change and passed me the key to number seven. “You’re a big kid. Ever play any kind of ball?”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah; a five year starter in basketball and baseball and a four-year starter in football.”

“I recognize you now. Tuckahoe, right?” I nodded. He laughed as he said, “Nobody is happier than I am that you’re graduating. My son played JV basketball and will be a junior at Gorton next year.”

My smile vanished. “Too bad about Jimmy Albin.” He nodded. Jimmy’s situation was sad. He’d been found dead just after the end of the season, a hypodermic needle jutting from his arm. All of my teammates and I attended his wake and funeral. Barbara was there, too, never leaving my side. I put my smile back on my face as I walked out, but there was no fooling my love.

“What’s wrong, Jack?”

“Nothing really; his son played JV at Gorton. He knew Jimmy.”

She reached up to stroke my cheek. “You tried to warn him, Jack. He didn’t listen. A lot of kids think they know everything. Oh; Mrs. Gleason is thrilled. She didn’t seem to be too surprised.” She took my hand and we walked together to our room. She showed me a handful of condoms from the glove box.

“You trying to kill me before we’re even married?”

‘No, but I like to be prepared.” I smiled; prepared is good. I opened the door and turned on the light. I expected the room to be worn and it was, but it appeared to be clean although it was cold. I found the heater and adjusted the control. I was pleased when the machine responded immediately.

Now that we were here we were both nervous and hesitant. Eventually, we started to giggle and that developed into full laughter. We came together for a long kiss. “Don’t you think you should undress me now,” Barbara whispered. I kissed her again, moving my hands to her tiny buttons while she began to work on mine. My hands are big and powerful, but they weren’t made for this kind of work. She had me practically naked by the time I had half of her buttons opened.

“Here, silly, let me help you.” She pulled the blouse up and over her head, turning around so I could handle her bra. I leaned forward to nuzzle her neck and cup her beautiful breasts in my hands. Barbara reached behind her to lower my slacks and my briefs. Luckily I had worn my loafers so I was able to step out of my shoes. I placed all of the clothes on a chair while Barbara lowered the blanket and sheet. “I think I need to practice some sexy poses for you; something that will help you get turned on.”

“You haven’t needed anything so far. Just one glance at your beautiful face and your incredible body and look at me.” I looked down at my cock which stood at attention, as hard as granite and already leaking pre-cum. I kneeled on the bed and lay next to my goddess to caress and experience her fantastic body from head to toe; her soft smooth skin, her glimmering hair, her perfect conical breasts topped with sensitive and responsive nipples and areolas. I kissed each of those nipples, licking and suckling like an infant. My hand rubbed her labia until she was panting and squirming with desire.

“It’s time, darling. Make love to me. I want it. Damn, I need it.” She pulled a condom from the night table and with practiced precision unrolled it down my shaft as I moved between her legs.

“I know it’s going to hurt at first. Am I going to bleed?” I hesitated a second then jumped up to the bathroom, returning with a thin bath towel. Barbara raised her hips to accommodate me then spread her legs wide. I rubbed myself up and down her slit several times before gently pushing home. I was going slowly for two reasons. First, Barbara was a virgin, unused to having anything anywhere near as thick as my cock in her tunnel. Second, I didn’t want her to hurt any more than necessary. Apparently, she had other ideas as she thrust her hips upward several inches, ripping her hymen in a flash.

She cried out, several tears streaming from her face, but when I looked at her all I could see was her love. I kissed those tears away as Barbara began to smile. She relaxed as I pushed further into her. We began a rhythm, moving together; slowly at first; Barbara’s legs wrapped tightly around my waist. “Oh, Jack!” She was moaning continuously now. I raised my body up onto my elbows so I could worry her sensitive nipples with my fingers. I could tell from her movements that she was rubbing her clit; her big hard clit loaded with sensitive nerve endings; into my pubic bone.

She was working as hard as I was, driving her hips into me with every thrust. Her face was a mask of love and lust. Her love for me was evident, but just as obvious was her lust; her desire and need to fuck and be fucked; to cum and cum hard.

Our pace increased until we were fucking like animals then; suddenly and without warning; she froze, grabbed me by the hair and pulled me down for a kiss that showed her passion and her love and her lust. Then, just as suddenly, she lost it. Her body shook in three or four directions at once as her powerful orgasm claimed reign over her body. Even my weight wasn’t enough to keep her in the center of the bed. She was just coming down when my orgasm hit. She knew by now what to expect. Six straight times my hips drove forward, a fountain of semen erupting from my hard hot tool. I tried to move off her, but she would hear nothing of it. “Please, Jack; stay where you are. I love having you in me.”

“There’s nothing I’d like more, but, if I do, there’s a good chance that the condom will leak. That would never do.” I kissed her again, a relatively chaste one, and slid off to her side, the condom, loaded with my seed, dangling from my shrinking cock. I trotted to the bathroom to flush it away and wash my organ thoroughly. I knew that Barbara wanted to play and the last thing we needed was for some stray sperm to find its way into the wrong place.

Barbara was grinning like the Cheshire cat when I returned. I lay next to her, kissing her cheek and hair and rubbing her back and ass. “Why the silly grin,” I asked.

“I was just remembering something you said. Remember when you told me that making love was the most fun thing you ever did? I agree completely. It really was the best thing I’ve ever done. Can we do it again?”

“We can, but we’ll need to rest and wait a bit. Men aren’t built like women.” She began to laugh and I joined her. “That’s not what I meant. Women can make love time after time as long as their vaginas are lubricated, but a man has to recover. I think it’s called refractory period. I should be okay to go again in about thirty or forty minutes. Then if you want to do it again it’ll take me a bit longer.”
<

Discovering a new dynamic, called sexuality.

Fri, 28 Mar 2025 08:31:26 -0600

Discovering a new dynamic, called sexuality.

Fri, 28 Mar 2025 03:16:25 -0600

Discovering a new dynamic, called sexuality.

Fortune Cookies and Damn Luck: Part 1

Thu, 27 Mar 2025 13:46:40 -0600

my-first-time:

An accidental date and two fortune cookies lead to romance.
Based on a post by SandyMarl, in 3 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.
Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, 2010
Amanda was the kind of friend who was always full of great ideas. But; Amanda was not the kind of friend who always followed through on her great ideas.
Amanda posted one of her great ideas after final exams; “Hey everyone! If you’re staying in town over the summer, let’s all get together for Chinese food. 2Nite at 6. Be at that little hole-in-the-wall across town, The Wok and Roll. C U there!”
Keep reading

Thundersnow and Deflowering.

Thu, 27 Mar 2025 08:31:01 -0600

my-first-time:

Young Female Minister Finds a mate in an unorthodox (sinful) moment.
Based on a post by SandyMarl. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
“I was young. Though at the time I thought I was pretty old for a virgin. I’d finished at the university and then I had completed my training to become a certified church youth director. Seminary would come a few years later.
"I was thrilled to accept an offer for a youth director position at a large church. I was desperate to hit all the marks; I was eager to get to know the kids and I was adamant that I would be a fine, upright and un-besmirched example of Christian virtue for the youth.
Keep reading

Snow Flowers: Part 3

Thu, 27 Mar 2025 03:16:32 -0600

my-first-time:

The reward for rescue..
Based on the posts by SandyMarl, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, 2010
“Okay Rosie, are you ready for your bedtime story?“ Lil had adopted what I imagined to be her ‘teacher voice’.
"You’ve got me kind of excited now. Is it alright if I touch myself a little while I listen to your story?”
“You can, but don’t get too carried away and eat your dessert first. You’ll want to let your man bring you along. For your part, you need to enjoy the journey. Let your lover provide the orgasm. It’ll come on its own time and terms. Enjoying the journey is to be your focus.”
Keep reading

Snow Flowers: Part 2

Wed, 26 Mar 2025 13:47:14 -0600

my-first-time:

Lily’s wolf fantasy gets erotic.
Based on the posts by SandyMarl, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, 2010
Lily was anticipating that my wet mouth would be right back to work her sweet spot. She was making small thrusting waves with her hips, waiting for me to return to lap like a wolf in the secret and sensitive part of her lap. Instead, I ignored her arched cunny and began to unbutton her shirt, beginning at the waist. After each button was undone, I made a snarl and took a toothy little nip at her belly flesh.
“Ouch! You are a bad biter wolf!” she scolded.
Keep reading

My First Time Podcast presents: The Freak: Part 2 Click…

Wed, 26 Mar 2025 09:52:07 -0600

My First Time Podcast presents:
The Freak: Part 2
Click http://my-first-time-story.blogspot.com/2025/03/the-freak-part-2.html, to listen to the podcast.
and
https://feeds.feedburner.com/my-first-time/ to subscribe in your podcast app.

Wed, 26 Mar 2025 09:52:06 -0600

I ordered a pitcher of Coke as we checked the menu. I had to laugh when I showed one item on the menu to Barbara. “No, thanks,” she said with a smile to my offer of garlic bread. I passed on it, too. I decided on the seafood alfredo and a tossed salad with bleu cheese dressing. Not surprisingly, Barbara ordered the same.

She started the conversation by telling me how much she liked my family. “Your mom and dad are so nice and so are your sisters although I barely know Angela because she’s always cheering at the games. I especially like your little sister, Carole. It’s so obvious how much she loves you.”

“She always has nice things to say about you, too. Say, I just had a thought. Want to come to Tuesday’s game? It’s at home against Gorton. That’s another high school in Yonkers. They’ve always played pretty well against us.”

“I’d love to, but how will I get there? You’ll be at school and your parents will probably get there long before I can get to Chester Heights.”

“You have a driver’s license, don’t you?”

“Yes, but; .”

“I’ll pick you up for church Sunday and after breakfast I’ll let you drive to your school then back to mine so you’ll know how to get there. I’ll draw you a map, too.”

“You’re going to trust me with your new car?”

“Yeah; aren’t you trustworthy? Is there a place you can keep it at your apartment?”

“There’s some parking in a fenced lot behind the building and I’ll make sure to lock it, too.”

“Oh, Jack; you’re the best.” I thought she was going to continue to tell me that she loved me, but then I realized that it was too soon.

Our salads were delicious and very fresh, which I found surprising considering that it was mid-December. We ate in comfortable silence. Every once in a while I’d look at Barbara and I always found that she was looking at me at the same time. We just smiled at each other and returned to eating.

The alfredo was a great choice. The shrimp and scallops were tender and delicious and the sauce had obviously been freshly made. It really was a great meal. We left a bit after eleven, driving to my favorite parking spot at the end of the apartment complex, only two blocks from my home. I moved to the center of the seat, telling Barbara that we’d have more room that way.
We began kissing, lips locked together and tongues dancing in desire. The windows were steaming up when Barbara moved to straddle me. We never broke our kiss when she began to dry hump my thigh. Seeing this as a signal that she wanted to go a bit further I lightly brushed her nipples with the back of my hand. Her moan of pleasure died in my mouth so I did it again, this time a little harder. She responded by spreading her legs and grinding her cunny into my leg.

I opened her blouse and snaked my hands around her to remove her bra. A second later her glorious breasts were in my hands. I wasn’t someone who thought that playing with a girl’s breasts was all about some kind of stupid conquest for me. This was about making her feel good; maximizing the pleasure she was experiencing. I rolled her sensitive nipples in my fingers, being careful not to pinch or hurt her. We continued like this until she threw her head back, groaning in her ecstasy. “Jack! Oh God, Jack; that feels so good.” Then looking into my eyes she whispered, “I’m a virgin, Jack.”

“And you will be until you decide otherwise. Barbara; will you ; will you touch me?” She looked confused so I continued. “I mean here.” Taking her hand, I placed it lightly on my rock hard cock.

Looking straight into my eyes she began to rub me through my slacks. “What do you want me to do, Jack? Please tell me.”

“Undo my belt and open my pants then pull down my zipper.” I continued to massage her breasts then when my briefs were exposed I used both hands to move my cock and balls through the leg hole. I had tried boxers a year ago when I received several pair at Christmas, but I didn’t like the feeling of no support so I threw them out and went back to the briefs. Barbara took me in hand and began to slowly stroke me. Her touch was like velvet, exactly what I imagined her cunny to be as her slender delicate hands moved up and down my thick shaft.

I probably could have made my penis as big as a horse’s, but I never saw the appeal. A really long cock would mean either having several inches out in the breeze while fucking or driving into her sensitive cervix with every thrust. I was perfectly satisfied with my seven and a half inches. Yes; I had measured it one night way back in junior high. Now I was being stroked by an absolute goddess. She must have enjoyed it because she gripped me tighter with every stroke and what had begun as slow gentle rubbing was now approaching a feverish pace.

“Barbara! Please! If you continue like that, there’s going to be a terrible mess. I can’t send you home with semen on your clothes and in your hair.”

“It would squirt that far?”

“I’m afraid so. What you’re doing to me is heavenly, but; .”

“What if we used one of those things? Those condoms?”

“Yeah; that would work.” Barbara leaned forward again to kiss me then she turned to open the glove box. A minute later she had rolled the thin latex sheath over my organ, taking care as I had instructed to pinch the nipple tightly to keep air from intruding the space between my skin and the lubricated rubber.

Stating slowly again, she ran her fingers up and down, squeezing tighter and tighter and, once again, building her pace until she was in full masturbation mode. I usually had good orgasm control, but tonight I’d had plenty of sexual stimulation from Barbara’s sweet lips and her hard sensitive nipples. She hadn’t been at me for even two minutes when my hips thrust up violently and long thick ropes of slick sperm-laden semen erupted into the tip. It was more than full by the time I finished more than thirty seconds later, sinking back into the seat in exhaustion.

My breathing was deep, slow, and labored as I began the trek back from the abyss of my orgasm. I could see from the alarm on Barbara’s face that she’d never experienced anything close to what had just happened. “Are you okay, Jack?”

“I know that appearances can be deceiving, but; yeah, I’m more than okay. That was great, better than great. It was incredible. Just let me get rid of this and clean myself up then I’ll gladly take care of you.”

“Me? How?” I leaned forward to kiss her, whispering my thanks into her ear then I rolled down the window and eased the condom off my shrinking penis. After tying it into a knot I tossed it through the window, closing it quickly once that was done. Reaching over the seat I pulled my gym bag up, unzipped, and pulled out my still damp towel. Then it was a breeze to clean myself and dress.

Once that was done I took Barbara into my arms again. “I hope that didn’t scare you. Orgasms can be pretty intense. That one sure was.”

“I have to admit; that was my first male one.”

I looked at her and we began to giggle. “I didn’t realize that this was confession time. Do I get to give you penance now? For penance give me a long deep and juicy kiss.”

“Penance isn’t usually fun at least it’s not supposed to be.” She leaned forward and we kissed as I moved her down to the seat, her head near the steering wheel. My hands found the button and zipper on her slacks then she lifted her hips to help me get them off her slender body. I folded them carefully over the seat back. I couldn’t send her home with slacks that we’d stepped all over. That would never do. Her cotton panties were next. I felt the moisture in the crotch and I could easily smell her arousal. I began by kissing her lightly then my kisses went to her ear and then her neck. I followed by kissing each areola and suckling each nipple. By now Barbara was a panting wreck, tremors coursing through her body.

They only got worse when I plunged my tongue into her navel, licking clockwise then changing to the opposite. Finally, I moved between her legs and attacked her quivering cunny with the broad of my tongue. Starting at the bottom of her slit I moved forward slowly, teasing her terribly. I continued for more than five minutes, my strokes getting lighter and more teasing every time. Barbara was shaking uncontrollably when my tongue penetrated where nothing had ever been before. She responded by wrapping her shapely silken thighs around my head and humping my face with incredible vigor.

The dashboard clock told me I had to hurry. It was almost time to take her home. I spread her legs wide, moving her hard bud out from its hood then I sucked it between my teeth and gnawed for almost a minute. Barbara’s shaking turned into thrashing that ended with a mighty convulsion from which her body was lifted almost a foot above the seat before it collapsed with a mighty exhalation onto the firm leather almost totally out of it.

I pulled her up into a sitting position then struggled to return her panties to her body. Her slacks followed and finally I clasped her bra and buttoned her blouse. I backed out the door and helped her to stand so I could tuck her blouse into the slacks and help her back into her coat. We left then, driving to Pelham where we kissed goodnight just outside the apartment door. She turned as I descended the stairs, blowing a kiss. I smiled then turned and walked out into the cold clear night.

I picked Barbara up at seven the following night for bowling. Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Gleason commented on Barbara’s condition last night so I assumed that they had been in bed when she walked in to the apartment. Barbara confirmed that once we were in the car.

I drove to Mount Vernon, parking in the small lot that was used primarily during the morning for the commercial bakery that occupied the building’s first floor. It was a long climb up the stairs, a bowling bag in each hand and Barbara hanging onto my arm. “Tell me again why you have two balls.” Then she began to laugh before continuing, “Er; bowling balls.”

I just shook my head. Holding up my right hand I explained, “This one is my strike ball. It’s the one I always use to start a frame. If I miss the strike I use the other ball for the spare. Lots of bowlers use more than one ball. I’ll show you how they work once we’re inside.” I leaned over for a second and Barbara, apparently reading my mind brought her lips up to mine for a brief kiss. I opened the door by tucking one bag under my arm and pulling it so Barbara could walk in before me. I led her up to the counter where I was greeted by the owner.

“Hi. J.J; .haven’t seen you for a while. Taking a look at your friend here I can understand why.”

“Hi, Stan; this is Barbara. She’ll need a pair of shoes. Barbara, trade him yours for a pair of his then you’ll trade back once we’re done.”

She removed her shoes, telling Stan, “Size six, please.” A minute later we were walking to lane 12 with a large score sheet in Barbara’s hands. We laced up our shoes and I placed my balls on the rack then accompanied Barbara to find her a ball. Stan had come around the counter once he had looked at her hands to show us where to look among the sixteen racks, each of which had at least two dozen balls of various weights. It took us a while, but with Stan’s help we found a 12-pound ball that fit her well.

“Want a couple of practice throws.” I asked. “Stan will turn the machine off for what is called ‘shadow bowling.’ It’s a good way to warm up and get your timing set.” I waved to Stan and he returned the gesture, knowing immediately what I wanted. Then I showed Barbara how to coordinate her approach. I used a four-step approach and suggested that to her. “Just relax and don’t worry about the score.”

“Don’t you think I can beat you?” She sounded serious, but I knew she was only teasing. I’m a very good bowler. I’d bowled in an A-level league for the past two years with my Dad and would do so again once the basketball season was concluded. We’d won the league championship last year with me bowling in the anchor position. I had averaged 203.6, one of the top averages in the league. We spent about ten minutes practicing until I waved at Stan again. The lights went on and we did it for real. I tried to show Barbara that timing and coordination were more important than sheer brute force. In fact, I showed her that brute force was almost always the cause of a split or worse.

We had a great time, just as we did with everything we had done although Barbara did accuse me of cheating when I scored a difficult spare; the 6,7,10 split; left handed. Barbara did well, breaking 100 in each of the three games we bowled. I bowled 177, 184, and 223, my first two games showing the rust from not having thrown a ball in several months. We finished and exited the lanes around nine when I drove us to a nearby Carvel for ice cream sundaes. We were at the end of the apartment complex by 10:15. Barbara seemed pleased at that.

She waited until I had moved over to the center position then rose to straddle my lap once again. She locked those sweet plump lips onto mine in only a second. We went from zero to one hundred; full make-out mode; in less than a second. It was the most passionate kissing I had ever experienced and, knowing of Barbara’s limited experience, I was sure it was for her, also. We were only into it a few minutes when she removed her coat and threw it into the rear seat. Back to kissing, she led my hands to her blouse’s buttons. “Please, Jack. I need your hands on me. Please massage my breasts and do that thing you did last night with my nipples.”

She pressed those hot lips into mine with a ferocity I’d never seen or experienced before. My huge hands pulled her to me, almost crushing her in my embrace and in my passion. Slowly, I moved those powerful hands to the buttons on the front of her blouse. It found a place on the back seat a moment later. Like most guys I struggled with the clasp on her bra until finally freeing up her pert breasts. She brought my hands to them even as the bra flew behind me.

I was deeply engaged in our kiss, massaging her flesh and rolling her nipples between my fingers when she pushed my jacket off my body and began to open the buttons on my shirt. She was efficient; less than two minutes later our upper bodies were naked. “I love the feeling of your skin; your hard strong muscles; against mine, Jack,” she whispered just loud enough that I could hear her over the strains of the radio.

“I have to agree. Your skin is so smooth and soft. It’s like velvet.”

“Can I open your pants, Jack?” Yeah, like I’d complain about having my cock stroked by a hot woman I was rapidly learning to love. She was anything but tentative as her fingers tore at my belt and opened my pants. She reached into my briefs, pulling my manhood; my hard pulsing manhood; out into the cool December air.

Her hand wrapped around me to begin a gentle stroking rhythm. “You know, Jack, people send their daughters to Catholic school for more than one reason. Some want their girls to get a strong religious education.”

“And the others?”

“Well; mostly they want to keep them away from boys.”

“Does that actually work?”

“Sometimes, I guess, but other times I don’t think so. If a girl wants to get involved with a boy there isn’t much the parents can do.”

“So, which one are you?”

I could see Barbara’s wry smile in the dashboard light. “I’d say the first kind until I met you. Now, I don’t think anyone could keep me away from you.” I leaned forward and we kissed again then I leaned down to suckle at her breasts. Suckling, I pulled her hard sensitive nipple between my teeth causing Barbara to gasp audibly and arch her back in an expression of her ecstasy.

Suddenly, she stood up as well as one can in the front seat of a car and slid her slacks down her legs, her panties following seconds later. “I hope the cops don’t show up,” I laughed.

“Me, too,” she replied. “Maybe we should lie down or, even better, why don’t you lie down. I want to be here.” She knelt then on the floor while she pushed my head toward the driver’s seat. “You know, Jack; what do you think girls in a school without boys talk about?’

“Boys, of course.”

“You’re right, and mostly they talk about the things they’ve done with boys. They talk a lot about them fondling their breasts and their pus; er, vaginas; jerking boys off and doing this.” I looked down just as she opened her mouth to lick around my cock’s head. She went around twice then tested her tongue in my pee hole. “Is this where your stuff came from?”

“Yes. You probably know that women have two separate channels; the urethra for urine and the vagina for fun.”

She looked up, shaking her head and laughing. “You’re terrible! Is it really that much fun?”

“No; it’s a hell of a lot more. It’s the most fun thing I’ve ever done, but more than that is the intimacy; the sharing between two people. Of course, not everyone makes love. Some people just; .”

“Fuck?”

“Yeah, but what makes it special is when two people really care for each other.”

“You sound as though you’ve had that kind of relationship.”

“I did; last year, but her dad got transferred to Seattle and that was the end of that. We liked each other a lot, but I don’t know if it would have become love.”

“I’m sorry.”

I looked straight into her eyes as I whispered, “I’m not. If I was still with her it’s likely I would never have met you.” I was silent then, but it was enough. Barbara knew how I felt about her and I knew how she felt about me.

Her hand was slowing, making its way up and down my shaft the entire time, until she stopped suddenly. “You know, Jack, this is nothing like I imagined. The skin here is so soft and smooth and it’s loose so when I stroke you it moves with my hand.”

“I think that’s to prevent friction burns on the skin although that doesn’t always work.”

“Hmmm; maybe, but up here on the head it’s so spongy. Why?”

“Truthfully, I have no idea. Maybe so when I push into you it doesn’t hurt your cervix too badly. I understand that can be painful.”

Barbara laughed. “I wouldn’t know. Maybe someday, but not tonight; I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t think either of us is quite ready for that; not if we want a real meaningful relationship. We can take car

Snow Flowers: Part 1

Wed, 26 Mar 2025 08:31:57 -0600

my-first-time:

Girlfriends lost in the snow are taken in and warmed up.
Based on the posts by SandyMarl, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, 2010
This was not going to be pleasant.
The dimming afternoon sunlight filtering through the skylights of my ‘writer’s hideaway’ told me to expect one of those spasmodic, cold and wet early autumn storms. The north wind was picking up something fierce as it surged down through the canyon, beating on my small cabin at the foot of a lofty ochre sandstone cliff. How brutal was this storm going to be? From the looks of the deep blue-gray clouds rushing in above my skylights, it was going to likely dump a lot of frozen precipitation, the heavy wet stuff. That was fine; these conditions make for good 'story-writing weather’. I’d gotten up here last night and laid in enough supplies to see me through until the sun returned.
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Camping In Ireland: Part 2

Wed, 26 Mar 2025 03:16:28 -0600

my-first-time:

A tale of firsts, set on a rainy camping trip, among young friends.
Based on a post by Josh stone, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.
They stood in the dunes, feeling the sensation returning slowly to their clammy bodies. She grasped the two ends of the massive sheet together, behind his shoulder blades.
Then she stood up on tiptoes slightly, and his thumbs slipped slightly into under the elastic of her pants. She gave a sigh, relaxing into his embrace, and he instinctively pushed her wet knickers down, feeling as they rolled over on themselves as they slipped down her ass. He followed by pulling her wet tee shirt up over her shoulders, where she tugged it over her head, and tossed back by the bags.
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Camping In Ireland: Part 1

Tue, 25 Mar 2025 13:46:55 -0600

my-first-time:

A tale of firsts, set on a rainy camping trip, among young friends.
Based on a post by Josh stone, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.
The Night Storm
Surrounded by flimsy, billowing nylon, the wind howled outside. The fly sheet occasionally touching the inner when the buffeting storm blew strongly enough, and patches of damp were beginning to appear where the outside was attempting to breach the inner. The light was fading outside and somehow the dankness of the evening was everywhere within. He stayed at the campsite while the others had headed for the village in the coast of Southwest Ireland. Local lads had told of a party, beer, and ‘opportunity’.
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The Freak: Part 1

Snowden Speaks — Mon, 24 Mar 2025 09:50:00 -0600

The man with two birthdays.

Based on a post by Senor Longo. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

PROLOGUE.

My legal name is John; John Joseph French, but nobody who knows me; not even a single teacher; calls me by my legal name. My family calls me Jack or JJ. All my friends call me Freak. It’s not an insult. It’s a term of endearment. After all, how many people do you know who celebrate two birthdays? I have my original one; November 12, 1942; and I have my “Re-birthday”; March 27, 1951. It was the day I almost died. It was the day I was reborn. It was the day my life changed forever.

December, 1960.

My story doesn’t start here, but this is where I’ve decided to begin; in church. It was the first week in December and a surprise blizzard had dumped almost ten inches of wet sloppy snow overnight. Luckily, I had a 4-wheel drive Jeep with big knobby tires that were great for snow or for driving on the beach, something I did occasionally in the summer at my parents’ bungalow on Long Island. It was slow going over the eight miles from my home to St. Catharine’s, but I still arrived in plenty of time to get a seat on the end of the pew.

I had been there maybe fifteen minutes when I stood for the start of the Mass. I couldn’t help but notice the striking young woman standing just behind me along the wall. Looking down I could see from the puddles at her feet that her shoes were soaked through. She had walked a long way in the snow. I’m a gentleman so I exited the row and pointed her to my seat. “Thank you,” she whispered with a smile.

I tried to pay attention to the priest, but, truthfully, I found the girl much more interesting. As I concentrated on her I realized that this was her lucky day, but I had to be in the right place at the right time. Just before the service ended I walked quickly to the stairs at the main entrance where I pulled two carefully folded objects from my coat pocket. They were Korkers; rubber soles that strap to one’s special shoes or boots with numerous sharp metal studs that give incredible traction on the slickest surfaces. Once they were in place I stepped to the icy sidewalk and waited.

It was some five minutes before she appeared with the throng of worshipers who signaled that Mass had ended. I stepped in closely behind her, grabbing her firmly under her arms even before her shoes slipped on a small patch of ice and she fell backwards. Had I not been here she would have landed on her back, smashing the rear of her skull onto the sharp-edged concrete below. She would have died from a brain hemorrhage long before any emergency services would be able to reach her. Instead, I helped her to her feet and suggested she take my arm.

“I noticed your shoes were wet in church. Once you came out into the freezing temperature those wet soles turned to ice. You’re lucky I’m an observant person. You might have been badly hurt.” We had walked almost half a block before I spoke again. “How far do you have to walk?”
“Just to the other side of Lincoln Avenue.”

“Okay; that’s more than a mile. I think I’d better give you a ride. You’ll be a lot safer in my Jeep than on these sidewalks. I’m sure that a lot of them aren’t shoveled yet.”

“You’re right. I wish I’d worn my boots, but I was almost halfway here when I realized how wet my feet were becoming. I would have been really late if I had returned to my home. I don’t know you. I don’t even know your name.”

“I’ll tell you everything at the diner. I’m sure you’re hungry. You received communion so you haven’t eaten anything since last night. I’ll give you a dime so you can phone your family as soon as we arrive. Incidentally, if I hadn’t caught you when you fell you would have hit your head on the concrete and died. I’ll explain how I know that, too. Okay, there’s my Jeep; that green monstrosity at the corner. I don’t think you’ll be able to get in on the other side because of the snow, so.” I bent over, lifted her legs with my left arm and placed her gently onto the passenger seat.
I was in my seat when I pointed to the shoulder/lap belt. “You might want to use the seatbelt. They’ll be mandatory in another twenty years. It will protect you if we have an accident. I’m a safe and careful driver, but I can’t account for others, especially in snow and ice.” I pulled the Jeep out, driving slowly and turning right at the corner. Three minutes later I pulled into the diner’s parking lot. We had just stepped into the restaurant when the waitress directed us to a booth.

“Here’s the dime I promised you, but before you go I want to show you something. Are you having coffee?” I continued when she nodded. “Then you’ll probably want some sugar.” I held my hand on the table and a second later the sugar dispenser slid into it.

“How; how did you do that?”

“Make your call. I’ll explain everything while we wait for our breakfast; or lunch if you prefer.” She was shaking her head in dismay as she walked to the phone booth. I watched her dial and speak briefly before returning to the seat facing me. She sat quietly as I began my tale.

“It happened while I was on vacation with my family in Florida. I was in third grade and playing hide and seek with my two cousins and my two sisters. I was “it” and had my head resting against a palm tree while I counted to 100. A storm blew in from the ocean; lightning struck the tree running through my brain and down my arm to my elbow.” I opened my collar and turned around so she could see the inch-wide burn scar. “That runs all the way to my elbow. It used to be on top of my head, too, but I took care of it so I’d at least look normal.”

“But, you’re not, are you?”

“No, I am definitely not.” The waitress gave us menus and we ordered omelets with coffee for her and hot chocolate for me. “I woke up a day later in the hospital. I’m sure you’ve heard that opposite charges attract and like charges repel. Well, for a split fraction of a second that tree and I had incredible negative charges. Being lighter and not stuck in the ground I was repelled; forty feet, I was told; into the side of a pickup truck.

“When I woke up I still had my eyes closed and when I tried to figure out what was wrong with me I got the shock of my life. Starting at my head I could essentially ‘see’ inside my body. I actually saw the two cracked ribs, broken bone in my forearm, and broken shin in addition to a load of bruises and cuts on my head, body, and legs. Once I knew that I wondered if I could also make my body and bones heal faster than they would normally.”
“I’ll bet you could.”

“Yeah, I could and I did. I’ve read recently that human beings only use about ten percent of their brain’s capacity. I should have been killed, but instead, something happened when I was struck that changed my brain. I had a high IQ before, but I’ve been tested more than a dozen times since and my score is always off the chart. Of course, that alone is no sure sign of success. That takes a lot more like motivation and willingness to work hard.

“Oh; I’m so sorry. I just realized that I never introduced myself; I’m John; John Joseph French, but please call me Jack. I live in Chester Heights; know where that is?” I continued when she nodded. “I go to Tuckahoe High School. I’m a senior there, just turned eighteen three weeks ago.”

Her name was Barbara; Barbara Millard She was an orphan; her parents killed in an auto accident when she was three; and she had lived with the same foster parents, the Gleason’s, ever since. She was also eighteen; roughly a month older than me and a senior at a Catholic girls’ school run by the Archdiocese of New York in nearby Yonkers.

“Okay, there’s a lot more to tell so I’d better get back to it. I had been in the hospital about three weeks. My dad had driven my sisters back to New York while my mom stayed in Florida with me. That was when I told the doctor that I was completely healed and I wanted the casts removed. Of course, he scoffed so I suggested a deal. If he would have my ribs x-rayed and they weren’t healed I’d stay in the casts. But, if they were healed I wanted x-rays of my arm and leg. You already know what happened. I was completely healed although the doctor was mystified. I couldn’t tell him how it had occurred. He would never have believed me.

“I love to read the newspaper, especially the sports section. I noticed almost immediately that certain teams seemed to jump off the page. Then my parents told us that they were going to Yonkers Raceway on Friday night. They did that at least once a year with their group of friends. Monday night I looked at the newspaper’s racing form and five of the horse names stood out. The following day I checked and they all had won.”

“You could make a fortune with that.”

“Yeah,” I chuckled, “my thinking exactly.” I paused while our eggs and sides of bacon were served. “On Wednesday night I gave my father a sealed envelope and asked him to sign his name across the seals then I put it onto the refrigerator door. The following afternoon I brought in the racing results and opened the envelope in my parents’ presence. They were shocked that all of my predictions were correct. Then I gave them my predictions for Friday when they were going to the track along with two dollars from my allowance and directions for placing two bets for me.

The first was a horse in the third race with high odds. It went off at 18 to 1 and paid $38.20. The second bet was a parlay; the entire thirty-eight bucks; on the Perfecta in the ninth race where the odds would be roughly 4500 to 1. I also gave them three other races in between. I explained that I did this so they would trust my predictions. I know my dad; he’d go to the track and not bet for me, telling me he forgot if I didn’t prove that I knew what I was doing. I thought it was funny at the time that I couldn’t see the results of every race and that’s never changed. I can usually see five or six out of the total. The same is true with baseball or football schedules.

“Long story short, everyone bet on my choices, but fortunately not so much as to create suspicion. My mom and dad and all of their friends bet ten bucks on the perfecta, winning almost $46,000 and I won almost four times as much. I took half knowing that my parents would have to pay income tax on their winnings and placed $10,000 into a bank account for college then invested the rest through a friend’s father who is a stockbroker.”

“Did that work with stocks, too?” My smile answered the question for her.
“Needless to say, my parents went to the track more often and my personal money has grown into a fortune. My friend’s father no longer charges for my purchases and sales, but he does use the information with his other clients so he makes plenty that way. Then again, so do all of the brokers at Merrill Lynch. I actually have a contract that they have to make my trades first; before releasing the information to the other brokers.

“When all this happened I was a tall skinny and bookish kid, but I loved sports even though I was terrible so I wondered if I could make myself into an athlete. For me the obvious place to do that was the public library where I could learn all about the traits and skills that great athletes have. I was able to make myself strong, fast, and quick. I love basketball so I became ambidextrous and grew my hands and feet and body to what I thought would be perfect for playing and I developed excellent depth perception. Then one day I found a set of New York State law books in the library’s research section. That’s where I learned that eighth graders could play high school sports with the principal’s permission. I was in sixth grade then so I had time to gradually improve my body and my skills. I can dribble, shoot, and even write with both hands. I can run like the wind and jump like you wouldn’t believe.”

“I think I would believe even though what you’ve told me is unbelievable.”

“Everyone in school thought I was crazy for trying out in eighth grade, but I made the team. Our first games were on a Friday night; junior varsity at six and varsity at eight. I didn’t start the JV game, but I went in midway through the second quarter and played very well so the coach told me that he wanted me to suit up for the varsity game. I had to throw my sweaty uniform back on and run out to the gym to tell my parents.

“I did get to play when our first two centers got into foul trouble and again I played well, but we lost the game. The following Tuesday I played more and we won. The next day I was promoted to first team. I’ve been there ever since and we never lost again, winning four straight state championships.”

“Did you win any awards? Is that what they’re called?”

I smiled. “Yeah; ’awards’ is good. I made second team all-league in eighth, first team all-league and all-county ever since and last year I was All-State and All-American, too. I’m sorry, I’ve monopolized the conversation.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s been fascinating. You probably should have been killed, but you weren’t and what’s happened to you has been a miracle.”

“I guess it has. Are you in any school activities?”

Barbara laughed. “I have a bunch of nuns for teachers. What do you think? Besides, I have to take three buses just to get to school. That takes me more than an hour each way. I ride the red bus to Chester Heights then the blue bus to Bronxville and then transfer again to Yonkers.”

“I can empathize. My dad told me I could try out for sports, but I’d have to walk home every day. It’s about three and a half miles and after running my ass off for two hours it’s a long walk, especially in the winter when it’s dark and cold. Sometimes I walked across the Siwanoy golf course and the parkway. It’s shorter that way, but last year I got my senior license and now I can drive which is good because I play football and baseball, too, and the baseball field is down in the Village of Tuckahoe. There’s a bus back to school, but it takes almost half an hour to get there.”

“You know, I’ve never even been to a high school game of any kind.”

“Would you like to come with me Friday night? It’s going to be a big game. Tuckahoe is a really small school and we’re going to play New Rochelle. My mom went there and she told me that they had more than 3,000 students then. I think they still have that or more. They’ll be a real challenge. They want to break our win streak. It’s up to 105 now; a state record.”

“I’d love to go. What time?”

“I’d have to pick you up at about 5:45 so have a bite to eat first. I’ll take you out for pizza after if you like.”

“That sounds great. What should I wear?”

“Jeans or slacks and a blouse, but nothing too heavy because the gym is always jammed and it gets hot.” She nodded her agreement and we rose from the booth. I paid the bill, tipped the waitress and led Barbara back to my Jeep. I drove her around the block where she showed me to the entrance to her apartment. She lived on the second floor above a number of retail stores; a far cry from where I lived in a big house on a big lot on a quiet street.

I phoned Barbara on Wednesday evening as we had agreed. She had read about our Tuesday game against Concordia, a Lutheran private school only about two miles from mine. We destroyed them, 96 to 40. We had an outstanding group of seniors. Any one of the five of us could score double figures at any time and we all did in this game and we also had two skilled subs with good experience. I’d had 40 and I only played three quarters. Our point guard, Tony, had twenty-two assists, but there was nothing unusual about that.

We spoke for almost an hour and I did get to speak briefly with her foster mother, Mrs. Gleason, who told me that Barbara was really looking forward to our date on Friday. I was looking forward to it, too. Most girls were dwarfed by my six feet six inch, two hundred and twenty pound frame and Barbara was no exception. I estimated her height at five feet nine inches and she was slender with medium-sized breasts and shapely hips. Her face was absolutely beautiful in my opinion; perfectly oval and symmetrical with sparkling blue eyes and a small nose; nicely framed by shoulder-length lustrous reddish brown hair. I was sure that I had a good hundred pounds on her. Looking back, I was sure I’d fallen in love at first sight.

The weather was cold and clear Friday night when I rang the bell at her apartment. An elderly woman I correctly assumed was Mrs. Gleason opened the door on the second floor. She greeted me warmly and smiled when I gave her the bouquet of flowers I had bought for her. I was met by Mr. Gleason just inside the living room where he thanked me for stopping Barbara from falling. “I’m a bank guard now so I don’t make a lot of money and Barbara doesn’t have great health insurance from Social Services so any kind of injury would have been a burden on us. Of course, her welfare always comes first.” I realized then that Barbara hadn’t told them much about our lengthy conversation.

She appeared from a door across the living room and I could tell she was shocked by my attire. I was wearing a blue sports jacket with a white button-down shirt and a blue and gold striped tie with charcoal gray slacks and cordovan loafers. I laughed as she approached. “You’re probably wondering why I’m all dressed up when I told you to dress casually. I have to dress up for games. It’s a team rule, but I have some casual clothes in my car.” We said good night to the Gleason’s and walked quickly down the stairs to the street where I led her not to my Jeep, but to my ’61 Olds Starfire convertible.

“Where’s the Jeep? You have two cars?”

“Yeah, I rent a garage a couple of blocks from my home and keep one of my cars there. The Jeep is great in bad weather, but the ride is really harsh and the heater stinks.” I held the door for her then sat behind the wheel and started the Olds’ powerful V8 engine. Two minutes later we were on the parkway on our way to my school.

“I need to warn you; well, maybe not warn you, but I do need to tell you what will happen when we get there. The gym will be packed; it always is. The school is old; built in the early 1930’s; and the gym is small. They probably violate every fire regulation ever created by packing people in at every game. They even have a TV camera that broadcasts to the cafeteria just downstairs to accommodate all of the people. I’ll introduce you to my family; my mom and dad and my two youngest sisters. I have three, all younger than me, but Angela who’s in tenth grade is a cheerleader. Mom and Dad are saving a seat for you. There are four men who always sit behind them. They’ll get up when we walk in so I can lie down and meditate. I clear my mind of everything and go into a kind of trance until the end of the third quarter of the JV game when I wake up and go into the locker room to dress for the game. I always hug and kiss my mom and dad and my sisters and I’ll do the same with you if that’s okay. I’ve asked my mom to speak with you once I’m in the locker room.”

“Why? What about?”

“I’ll let her tell you. It’s nothing bad. Okay, that’s the school just ahead.” I pulled into the parking lot and found a place to park, grabbing my bag and locking the car before walking Barbara to the entry. I had timed our arrival well. The first half of the JV game had just ended. The teams were just walking off the floor when everyone stood and began screaming, “FREAK! FREAK! FREAK!” I waved my acknowledgment and turned to Barbara. “Sorry, I forgot to warn you about that. They get a little carried away. That’s what all the kids call me; kind of like a nickname.”

We walked along the end of

World Repopulation Efforts: Part 2

Snowden Speaks — Sat, 22 Mar 2025 09:30:00 -0600

Rediscovering the ancient lore of being in love..

Based on the works of ron de, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

"Jessica told me she wanted me to breed her again. I know I can't, not yet, but after she said that, I found the idea was rather exciting. Is it wrong that she felt that way or that I thought I'd like to breed her again?"

Regina shook her head.

"No, it's not wrong. What you were both feeling was the release of endorphins into your brains during the orgasm and it's a little like the addiction to some drugs. You feel the endorphins and want to have the feeling again."

Danny pursed his lips.

"Why haven't I felt like this before? The breeder and I always have an orgasm."

Regina smiled.

"We really don't know, Danny. That's part of what this experiment is all about - to find out. What we know is impregnation is much more successful if the breeder feels something for the sire and the sire's sperm count is higher if he feels something for the breeder."

Danny thought for a while about that. He did like Jessica, but he'd liked Barbara too. The feeling had been there with Barbara, a little, but not as strongly as with Jessica. Maybe that was because Barbara hadn't said anything like Jessica had. Maybe that was the reason.

He looked at Regina then.

"Do you feel that when you're bred - like you want to be bred again by the same sire?"

Regina looked at the floor when she answered.

"I've never been bred, Danny, because I was designated as a critical employee. If I took time off for pregnancy and to raise a child it would cause serious damage to the program."

She looked up at Danny then.

"Maybe once we get this all figured out, I can be bred. I would like to have children someday."

Over the course of the next eighteen weeks, Danny selected and bred eighteen more breeders and completed what he jokingly referred to in his weekly after breeding reports as his harem. In those after breeding reports, he tried to explain what had attracted him to each breeder. Often, he really didn't know exactly what that was so his answers were a little confusing.

The breeders were also interviewed and asked if they were attracted to Danny, if they would like him to breed them again, and were asked to rate their attraction to Danny from a list of characteristics on a scale of one to ten.

Over the months, she began to see a pattern in Danny's selections and the breeder's responses. That was important because once the twenty breeders were selected, bred, and in residence, Danny would have the freedom to choose a breeder once a week even though all were in some stage of pregnancy. Only in the last month of gestation was a breeder not able to engage in sex.

In her last report to the W R E, Regina had put the remaining reservations to rest. Danny's impregnation rate had been ninety-five percent, much better than even the best of the other sires. The data indicated that even though genetically matching sires and breeders was very successful, the last key to the puzzle was in the mental processes of both sires and breeders.

When Danny had bred the twentieth breeder and she had conceived, Regina sat down with him and explained the data she had collected and what that meant to the experiment.

"Danny, the data I've gathered is interesting to say the least. Even though your ratings of the breeders you selected are fairly consistent -- large breasts, wide hips, and an attitude of eagerness to be bred, your sperm count shows me something different.

"Your sperm count tends to indicate you prefer brunettes who have not shaved their pubic hair. Another interesting thing is that while breast and hip size do show some correlation, in general, your sperm count is lower if the woman has any hair color other than brunette. It seems as if you prefer her pubic hair to be the same color as well.

"The other thing that is rather unusual is your sperm count is higher if the breeder's after breeding report indicates she was nervous about the breeding. Your sperm count is even higher than if she was very confident. I'm still trying to figure that one out. Any thoughts about why that would be?"

Danny thought back over his times with the twenty breeders. Yes, some seemed to be nervous so he had taken special care to make sure they were completely aroused before he bred them. The others, the ones who seemed to be more than ready, he had just bred them like he had over a hundred others. What could make him treat a nervous breeder differently?

"I'm not sure. It just seemed like to ones who were nervous needed more stimulation, so I tried to give them that."

Regina had watched the videos of each breeding and though she had seen some differences in what Danny did with those breeders and how they reacted, she couldn't see enough detail to really understand what he was doing.

"Danny, what did you do differently with the nervous breeders?"

Danny had to think about that for a few moments, because he didn't really remember doing anything consciously. He just did what seemed to arouse the breeder and it was more or less instinctive.

"I'm not sure except when something I did seemed to arouse them, I did it some more."

Regina smiled.

"Can you give me some examples...like what did you do with Heather, the little brunette with large breasts? She started out being nervous, but her orgasm left her shaking and breathless."

Danny remembered Heather. He'd found her especially attractive and planned on breeding her several more times.

"Heather didn't put much on her application form about what excited her, so I had to figure it out as I went. Like you said, she had large breasts and she seemed to really like having them gently stroked. Once I figured that out, that's what I started doing. She also had large nipples, and as I stroked her breasts they got even larger. From what I've seen, most breeders like having their nipples lightly pinched and sucked. When I did that to Heather's nipples and then checked to see if she was becoming aroused, I found out she was very slippery inside, more so than most other breeders I've bred, so I kept doing it while stimulating her with a finger until she spread her legs and pulled me between them. It was pretty exciting for me too, to find out that a simple thing like sucking her nipples could excite her so quickly. I've bred a lot of breeders, but not as many as you've studied. Is that a normal reaction?"

Regina said she'd seen similar reactions in the population of breeders she'd studied. She didn't tell him that just listening to the description of his actions with Heather had caused her own nipples to swell and that she felt as if she was becoming wet. That would have been embarrassing besides being unprofessional. She wasn't supposed to be excited by what she witnessed during the breedings or by what the sire and breeder said in their after-breeding interviews.

"Yes, Danny, I've seen that before in some women. Other's not so much."

Danny had been watching Regina while he related what he'd done with Heather, and what he saw made him smile. Regina was breathing a little faster and she'd closed her thighs tight and then moved them up and down a little when she changed position. That was the same way Heather had reacted.

That reaction caused Danny to look at Regina in a different light as well. Before, she'd been just another researcher who happened to be female, and she was always calm and analytical in her questions and responses. Now, knowing she had dreams of someday being bred and seeing that he'd excited her a little, she became a woman, a woman with large breasts and brown hair and the small but full figured body that attracted him to some of the breeders more than to others.

He thought maybe part of the reason for the change was they were no longer in the sterile environment of the breeding center. They now lived together in a house in the countryside and he'd become more aware of her appearance since she'd dispensed with the white lab coats she always wore at the breeding center. That let Danny see how her large breasts moved when she did, and how her wide hips swayed when she walked. He'd been more than a little aroused by Regina in street clothes, and now...

"Regina, a man stroking your breasts and sucking your nipples does the same thing to you, doesn't it?"

The thought of Danny doing that to her flashed through Regina's mind and she felt her nipples stiffen a little more and the feeling of dampness between her thighs increased. No man had ever touched her that way, but it was what she did to herself when she was alone in her bed at night. She would watch one of the videos of one of Danny's breeding sessions and fantasize about how it must feel to the breeder. At the end, when Regina stifled the cry as her hips raised off the bed because of the orgasm, she was thinking about how it must feel to the breeder to have Danny groan and pump his sperm inside her.

Regina frowned at that thought. It wasn't right. She was supposed to be an unbiased observer of the breedings and then analyze them so future breedings would be more successful. She couldn't let Danny know she even thought about sex, let alone that his description was affecting her. That might bias his actions and the study data would be contaminated.

"Danny, I've never been touched that way, so I don't know. Now, what else did you do with Heather that was different?"

Danny wasn't dumb and he was very observant. Those qualities are what made him a very valuable sire. He could watch a breeder's reactions to what he did and modify his behavior accordingly. He didn't miss the fact that in spite of the bra Regina wore, her nipples had stiffened enough he could see the bumps they made in her light blouse. He decided to see if he could cause any other responses in Regina, partly because it would be teasing her a little, but also because he was thinking he'd like to breed her. He didn't really know why, but the feeling was there and it was a stronger feeling than he'd had with any of the breeders he'd bred.

"Well, once I slipped a finger inside her, I knew she was probably ready, but she was still a little stiff. I remembered what you said about breeding success being better if the breeder was very aroused, so I kept stroking her inner lips and clitoris until she rolled her head to the side and started to take panting breaths. That's when I entered her. It didn't take her long to have an orgasm after that, and that was fortunate. The way she was responding was extremely erotic and I was having difficulty not having my own orgasm before she did."

Regina squirmed in her chair because there was no doubt in her mind her panties were wet. She felt the wet warmth on the lips between her thighs. What Danny had just described was the same thing she did almost every night in her bed. She'd stroke her inner lips until they were wet with her juices and then move her finger up to the little button at the top of her lips.

The first touch of that little stiff nub would make her gasp. Gentle rubbing would make her pant. All it took then was moving that finger quickly in and out. Regina would feel the tension building inside her, building to a level that tightened the muscles in her belly, hips, and legs and was almost unbearable. Then, suddenly, that tension would explode in a release that left her gasping for breath and quivering. She could only imagine how Heather had felt at that moment.

Regina was uncomfortable about how she was reacting to what Danny told her, but she was also a little dumbfounded. They'd had this conversation many, many times and it had never affected her before. She'd always just assumed her clinical mindset and faithfully recorded what Danny said he had done. What could be the reason she couldn't do that now? The education and experience she'd gained in psychology should have been able to explain her reaction, and yet, she couldn't find any logical reason for it.

She was the same, wasn't she? Danny was the same, wasn't he? Then what was different? Regina's mind was racing for an explanation when Danny smiled. He was going to push Regina just a little to see what she did.

"I could show you if you want. You would be getting first-hand experience into what a breeder feels. That might help your study more than just talking."

Regina felt her face and chest grow warm. What Danny had just proposed was against all her training and education. A scientist was never, never, ever supposed to become personally involved in an experiment. Doing so would cause questions about ethics and validity of the data. She could not allow that to happen after so much time and money had been spent.

The warmth that was spreading down to her breasts wasn't caused by Danny's challenge to her ethics though. It was caused by her desire to let him do what he said -- excite her until she wanted him and then breed her.

It was the same thought that filled her mind when she aroused herself at night, though up until that day, the sire was just a faceless body. Now, that body had Danny's face, his broad shoulders, and his tall build. For an instant, the vision filled her mind of Danny between her open thighs, his cock buried deep inside her as the waves of her orgasm swept her away into the exquisite abyss of release.

Regina felt her stomach contract and then more wet warmth between her thighs. She took a deep breath that didn't do anything to still what was happening to her.

"Danny, I -- I think I have enough information about your experience with Heather for now. Have you given any thought to which breeder you'd like to choose to breed a second time?"

Danny smiled to himself because it was obvious he'd aroused Regina. Her face was flushed and she was breathing much faster than before he'd explained what he'd done with Heather. That in itself had started him on the road to arousal, but there was something else, something he couldn't put his finger on, but it was there. He wanted Regina, wanted to hear her gasps and moans as he aroused her. He wanted to feel the spasms that tightened her passage around his stiff, stroking cock and caused him to let go and fill her with his sperm. He wanted to feel her hands on his back as she tried to pull his cock deeper inside her as they made love.

That was it, he suddenly realized. He didn't want to breed Regina. He wanted to make love with her. That was a new feeling for him. He'd always taken great care to make sure the breeder reached orgasm, but other than a very few, it had just been his job. He couldn't think of Regina as just another breeder. She was different.

Danny smiled again.

"You're not going to like my answer."

"Danny, you know there are no wrong answers to any of my questions. What you say is just how you honestly feel. Now, which breeder would you like to breed again?"

Danny leaned forward and put his hand on Regina's knee.

"You", was all he said, and he smiled again when he felt the little tremble of Regina's leg.

Regina's mind swirled again with that same vision of her and Danny together, naked and striving for the goal of release. She caught her breath when Danny squeezed her knee gently, then stammered, "Umm, me? I'm not a breeder."

"I know and that's why".

"But I can't."

Danny slowly moved his hand a little higher up Regina's leg.

"Why? From what I'm seeing, you wouldn't be completely against the idea. You're breathing faster and your face is flushed. That's the same way the breeders react when I touch them, though it usually takes more touching in more places."

Regina knew she couldn't hide what her body was doing from Danny, but she had thought maybe he wouldn't notice. Now that he had and was absolutely correct in his assessment of her, what could she say?

"Even if I wanted to -- and I'm not saying I would - that would invalidate all my work because I'd be biased."

Danny smiled and moved his hand up a little more.

"Wouldn't it just make it easier for you to understand how a breeder feels when I breed her? I'd think that was valuable information you could never get from an interview."

Regina abruptly brushed Danny's hand off her leg and then stood up.

"I think we'd better end the interview right now."

Without waiting for Danny to respond, she walked out of the interview room and left Danny sitting there.

Academic Theories Be Damned

When she got back to her room, Regina dropped her clipboard on her desk and then sat down on the bed. What was wrong with her? What Danny had said was true. She did want him to breed her, wanted it more than she could remember ever wanting anything else. The thought had stirred something deep in her mind, something she'd never felt before.

It's just hormones, she thought, and I know how to fix that for at least a while. She stood up, took off her clothes and lay back down on the bed.

The first touch between her thighs told her she hadn't been imagining the wetness there, and she knew the reason. Her body was preparing itself to be penetrated by a man's rigid cock. She tried slipping a finger into her entrance and found it was even wetter there. The second finger she slipped in made Regina catch her breath.

With her other hand, Regina closed two fingers around her right nipple and pinched gently. The effect was immediate. She stifled the moan that threatened to slip from her throat as her belly tightened. Another pinch tightened her belly again and she felt the tension begin building in her core.

Regina's two fingers moved slowly in and out a few times, then moved up to the little smooth button at the top of her lips. Just a few strokes was all it took. Regina gasped as the first wave of spasms wracked her body, then arched up off the bed as the wave swept over her. She couldn't control what her body was doing. It just did what it felt like, and the only thing she saw in her mind was Danny's face above hers, a face wearing a mask of intense pleasure as he pumped his stiff cock in and out and spurted his sperm inside her.

Regina lay there panting until the contractions in her core mostly stopped. It was relief from the tension, but as another twinge of tightness swept over her, she realized the orgasm had done nothing to take away the vision that still filled her mind. The only thing that would do that was the vision becoming reality and that scared her.

She'd never before experienced such a longing, no, such a need, and she didn't know what to do about it. If she did as her scientist's mind was telling her, she'd put that need out of her mind and go on as she always had. The problem was the other part of her mind, the part that was screaming at her to go to Danny's room and make that vision a reality was quickly drowning out her logical self.

Her logical mind struggled to be heard through the din.

What if I got pregnant? That would be the end of my career. No, that can't happen. The W R E knew some psychologists might be tempted so all female psychologists had been temporarily sterilized by an implant. Regina felt for the implant and found the small bump on her shoulder where it had been inserted. No, she couldn't get pregnant.

What if somebody found out? That would also end my career. Then she shook her head. Like Danny had said, t

World Repopulation Efforts: Part 1

Snowden Speaks — Thu, 20 Mar 2025 09:01:00 -0600

Something had to be done about the ominous world population decrease.

Based on the works of ron de, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Kristin lay naked on the bed with her legs spread a little and watched as S405698 removed his clothing. Before, she'd been nervous, but eager. Now, as he removed his underwear and his erect cock bobbed free, she was nervous and a little afraid. It was her first time in six months, the celibacy period mandated by her contract, and she was a little fearful of how it would feel. He looked large - not particularly long, but really thick. Matt, her former partner, hadn't been so thick and it always felt like he stretched her a lot.

He smiled as he approached.

"This your first time here?"

Kristin nodded her confirmation.

He smiled again and stroked her right breast.

"Just relax, and I'll make this great for both of us. Do you have a favorite position?"

Kristin's voice was almost a whisper.

"I thought it made a difference and we'd have to do it with you on top."

He chuckled.

"That's just an old wives tale. All the data says it really doesn't matter as long as you have an orgasm. Usually it doesn't matter even if you don't providing the time is right, but I'll make sure you do. Now, what do you like? I read your application, but some women have special things they like and are too embarrassed to write them down. It's just you and me here, and it will be better for us both if I know."

Kristin thought for a moment. Should she tell him, could she tell him, that having her nipples pinched tight and then pulled would send her into a blinding orgasm? Would he think she was weird if she told him that?

He smiled when she didn't answer.

"You won't shock me, I promise. I've heard everything from 'spank me really hard' to 'pull my hair' to 'tell me I'm just a brood cow and you're going to breed me like a bull'. There have been other things too, but those are probably the most common."

Kristin smiled coyly.

"Well...I like it best when I'm on my hands and knees...and I like my nipples pinched hard and then pulled."

He smiled again.

"That's one of my favorites too. Before we do that, let's get you ready."

Kristin was quiet when he began stroking her breasts, but caught her breath when he lightly brushed her nipples with his fingertips. When he nuzzled her breast and then closed his lips around her right nipple, she closed her eyes so she could feel every little tingle. After he stroked down her side and then slipped a fingertip between her puffy lips, she wasn't afraid anymore. She just felt the craving building, the craving to be penetrated by his thick cock, and then taken to the point her body would convulse as the orgasm sent her into a blinding fog of sensations.

That was when he'd pump his seed into her, the thick, white, sticky ropes carrying his sperm that would find their way to her womb and impregnate her. She wouldn't feel the spurts, she knew that, but she'd feel his thick cock throb inside her when he did it. Some women in her group who were there for the second or third time said they thought they could feel it splatter inside them, but Kristin never had. All she'd ever felt were the contractions that twisted her belly in a knot, caused her legs to turn to jelly, and made her hips writhe around the cock inside her.

And so it was that day. He stroked his finger in and out, then used two fingers to stroke deep while his thumb lightly brushed her clit, and all the time, his mouth sucked and pulled at her nipples. By the time he turned her over and lifted her hips so she was on her hands and knees, she'd felt the orgasm building twice. He'd stopped his stroking fingers and thumb then, but as soon as her hips stopped rocking into his hand, he started again.

Kristin had just gotten to her hands and knees when she felt him spread her lips and then slide his rigid cock between them. She was so wet by then there wasn't much sensation until his cock head touched her clit. Her body jerked when that happened and she tried to move forward so his cock was at her entrance.

He wouldn't let her do that though. He just kept stroking his cock between her wet, swollen lips until his cock head and shaft glistened with the slippery/sticky wetness that flowed from her entrance when she tightened her belly. He smiled to himself at how well he'd excited her.

That was a point of personal pride with him. He'd been taught the mechanics, but his real education had come from a woman named Barbara. She'd been very forward about what she liked and didn't like, and one of the things she liked was being teased until she was gasping for breath and her wetness flowed enough it trickled from her entrance and then down between her ass cheeks.

He knew Kristin was ready when she began pushing back against him, trying to get his cock inside her. He hoped she was close to an orgasm because when a breeder acted like this one was acting, he sometimes had trouble holding back until she came. It wasn't the way she moaned and panted. It was the way her lips gradually swelled and then opened when he spread her legs a little more.

Kristin felt him pushing his cock head at her entrance and then the feeling of him stretching her open. It didn't happen all at once like she thought it might. After all, he was being paid to breed her, not to make love to her and she thought he'd want to do it as fast as possible.

He didn't though, and Kristin couldn't hold back the moan as his thick, swollen cock head eased into the snug spot just inside her entrance. She moaned again when he pushed deeper and she felt him fill that tight ring. He didn't keep going then. He just pushed in and out right there, making his cock head stretch her open and then letting her close a little. In less than a minute, Kristin was unconsciously pushing back at his cock and trying to get him inside her all the way.

He did push harder then, and Kristin gasped as his cock head slipped past that snug spot but the stretching feeling didn't lessen. It was still there, the same pressure that sent little tingling sensations to her brain and her core. Those sensations tightened her belly and took every thought from her mind except the exquisite stretching and his hands on her breasts.

He was carefully watching what she did, and when he began hearing her rasping, panting breaths knew she was close. He moved his hands from cupping her full, hanging breasts to close his fingertips on her swollen nipples. When he pinched them lightly, she moaned. He pinched harder and felt her passage clamp down on his cock.

She rammed her body back when he pinched harder still, hard enough he knew he was flattening her nipples between his index fingers and thumbs, and she started to make continuous little moans. It would only take a little more and she'd have the orgasm she needed to have for it to be nearly certain he'd impregnate her.

He pulled down hard then and stretched her breasts out into cones. She shrieked and he felt her begin to shake. She started to sag then because her legs were shaking, so he put his left hand under her belly to hold her up, and began pushing his cock in and out a little faster. In moments, she began to murmur something he couldn't understand, and when he pulled hard on her right nipple, she shrieked and started to writhe her hips. As soon as he felt her body jerk the first time, he allowed himself to let go. With a groan, he pushed his cock in until his belly flattened her shaking hips and then felt the surge race up his cock and inside her. Three more times, he gasped as his cock went home and another surge flew out the tip.

She was still making little mewing cries and pushing back into his cock when he groaned and felt another tightening in his cock. That one would be just a dribble, but it would add to the amount he could already feel leaking out of her and onto the mattress.

It wouldn't matter if some leaked out. He could feel her body moving now, feel her passage contract and then push out, then contract again. Her body was doing what it was supposed to do, dipping the tip of her womb into the sperm that covered it and helping the sperm find its way inside.

He kept his cock in her and stroking until it got soft enough it was just bending when he stroked in. He pulled out then, but held her lips closed with two fingers until he couldn't feel the little contractions anymore. He knew it wouldn't matter if he did that, but he liked the way most women reacted when he lightly pinched their lips together and then moved them around. This one was no exception. She purred out a little moan and then her hips rocked a little.

She was lying on her back when he got dressed, and just before he left; she blew him a kiss and said "Thank you".

He grinned.

"The pleasure was mine."

The Emptiness

As Danny walked back to his room, he smiled at his fortune to be one of the chosen males. It was partly because of his intelligence but also because of his build. He was a little over six feet tall, depending upon the time of day, and was a lean and strong hundred and seventy pounds. That had been enough to get him the position, and when his sperm count was higher than average, that was an added advantage.

He didn't know how many women he'd impregnated, but he knew he'd been mated with about a hundred and fifty over the past two years. He figured he had about another ten years of service left, give or take, as long as his sperm count remained at least average. By that time, the crisis would have been avoided and though the breeding program would still be required, the natural process of reproduction would again be helping to populate the earth.

In another four days, Danny would have another appointment with a woman probably between the ages of nineteen and twenty-nine. There had been women as old as forty in the beginning, but anything over twenty-nine was considered a little old now. A breeder could be bred only every two years, and the sociologists had all agreed that after the age of thirty, the breeder should concentrate on child rearing. A woman who was nineteen at her first breeding was optimal. She could be bred seven times before retiring.

The other issue with a woman's age was fertility. After the age of thirty, it sometimes took two breedings to impregnate her, and that wasted sperm. Women as old as forty had been used to get things started though, because not using every available and willing woman would have been catastrophic. A few women over thirty were still being bred, but those were women with exceptionally high intelligence, nearly perfect physical traits, and strong mothering instincts.

Foundational Knowledge

The federation authorities were not going to question the sages of the academics. Science must never be questioned by the unenlightened; and certainly not publicly opposed. It was met with swift re-education orders, and the rebels who dared challenge the sages were taken to institutions where they were re-educated. Sometimes they were further treated with pharmaceuticals to bring ‘balance’ to their temperament, before slowly being re-introduced to the civilian populations.

Mandated Abstinence Phase

Four days of rest was optimal for Danny according to the testing he'd been through. Some sires needed as many as six, but four days gave his body a chance to replenish his sperm and gave his mind a chance to rest from the concentration required to ensure the woman had an orgasm. During those days, he'd sleep, eat, stay in shape with a workout or a swim, and do little else other than take a class or two in how to arouse women. Danny didn't really need the classes in how to cause orgasms in most women, but there were some women who needed what Judy, the instructor, called "special handling", so he'd take at least one.

Judy always taught the classes nude so she could demonstrate, and Danny wished she was one of the breeders. While he was skilled in producing orgasms in any woman, he sometimes had to concentrate on producing his own if the breeder had small breasts or narrow hips. Judy had the large, heavy breasts and sensuous, wide hips, the same characteristics that always made it easy for him to fill a breeder with his sperm. Unfortunately for him, Judy was forty-eight and no longer fertile. Coupling with her would have been an exquisite experience, he thought, but would have also been a waste of his sperm.

He'd have liked being the first to breed her because she was probably quite a woman when she was nineteen, but in those days, things were done a little differently. Most matings were natural then, and the selection process was left up to the individuals involved.

A Dying Human Race

No one could put a single, concrete reason to the lack of population growth the world was experiencing during the early 2000's, but it was definitely a problem and it was growing quickly. In 2015, the population of the globe was a little over seven billion and growing slowly. By 2030, that number had stabilized because the death rate was about equal to the birth rate. Medical science had not been able to find a way to extend the life of any individual. All evidence appeared to point to a biologically programmed "expiration date" for the human body.

It was estimated by the W H O that with the current declining birth and steady death rates, in ten years the population of Earth would be nearly halved and would continue to decline at a rate of about eight percent per year. Within twenty years because of geographical dispersion, the human species would effectively be extinct. A few small pockets of humans would exist in the major cities, but would quickly begin to suffer from congenital diseases and defects cause by lack of genetic diversity.

There were various theories for the decrease in birth rate proposed, but the problem was worldwide, so culture was not a major influence. What appeared to be the cause were several major changes in how people thought about their roles in society.

Some sociologists thought the problem began in the 1960's with the so-called "free love" generation. The culture of the "hippies" changed sex into something anyone could enjoy and they did. Women learned about having orgasms and men learned that having an orgasm at the same time as your partner was much more enjoyable than basically using a woman to masturbate with instead of using their hands. The advent of the birth control pill furthered this "sex without guilt" mentality because it nearly eliminated the risk of pregnancy.

Other sociologists thought it was the generation of children born to the free-love generation. While when they were young, most of the free-love generation had rejected normal jobs and careers, as they got older, they fell into line behind their parents. The difference was they made more money than their parents and could afford to give their children more. Those children grew up and became selfish because they'd seldom had to wait for anything.

When they looked back at their parents, what they saw were people who had sacrificed a lot to give their children what everybody else's children had, from new bikes to the latest style in clothing to the limousine that took them to their high school prom. According to the sociologists, that realization made them vow to not have children so they didn't have to sacrifice anything in their quest for self-satisfaction. Better and safer birth control methods made that goal a reality.

It was obvious to most nations in the world that if the birth rate continued to decline, long before human extinction became reality there would be fewer young people working to support the world economy while there were more older people consuming the results of that economy. Infrastructure would deteriorate because of the lack of labor to keep it running, and food would be an ever-increasing problem because of the lack of agricultural workers. The social safety-net systems such as medical care and financial support in the form of the various government entitlement systems would suffer a spiraling decline in input while their outlay would continually increase.

The result was the formation of the "W R E - the acronym for "World Re-population Effort" - by the leaders of every developed country on the globe. This organization was separate from the United Nations because world leaders knew the problem had to be solved quickly. Any committee of the United Nations would only hold meaningless votes on meaningless, non-binding resolutions for years. There would likely be UN diplomats continuing to argue over infinitesimal details even as the light of human existence slowly flickered out.

After six months of debate about the practical and ethical considerations, the W R E embarked upon a solution. That solution was to offer free medical care, free housing, and financial support for life to any woman, single or married, who would agree to be impregnated and raise the child to adulthood. The program was funded by the World Bank after that organization was appraised of the consequences of doing nothing.

In the manner of all government programs, the W R E wrote a glossary of accepted terms. Women participating in the program were designated as "Base Re-population Donor Recipients " or the acronym "BRDR". Men serving as sperm donors were designated as "Sperm Inception Reservoirs ", or "SIR". Both terms were to be used in any and all public correspondence and conversation, but in private conversations in the W R E clinics, the doctors and nurses used the somewhat phonetic pronunciations of "Breeder" and "Sire". To guarantee anonymity but allow for detailed tracking, in all records breeders were given a number -- a "B" followed by a sequential number. Sires were likewise numbered by an "S" followed by a sequential number.

In the early stages of the program, it was felt the breeding should proceed by clinical means to guarantee conception happened in a sterile environment, so the breeder was impregnated by artificial insemination. The success rate was relatively poor, being only about thirty percent for women under thirty and only about ten percent for women between thirty and thirty-five.

After multiple studies that all proved inconclusive relative to how to improve that success rate by artificial means, some old data about the success of natural conception was compared to the new data. The old data demonstrated almost a seventy percent conception success rate for women between nineteen and thirty-five if the woman was monitoring her fertility and her partner's sperm count was average. The success rate was still over fifty percent even if the woman did no monitoring.

As a result, the W R E began a trial program of natural matings between sires and breeders. The success rate was the predicted sixty-five to seventy percent if the breeder didn't have an orgasm, seventy-five percent if she did, and eighty percent if she had an orgasm and the sire had a high sperm count. After a year of the trial, this method became the norm.

It was also determined during the trial program that virgins seldom conceived at the first mating, while all fell within the predicted ranges after the second. The doctors and psychologists employed by the W R E stated this was for two reasons. Most women experienced some amount of pain when their maidenhead was broken and that pain prevented them from having an orgasm. The other reason was that many women reported being too nervous about their first experience with intercourse and so couldn't let themselves relax and enjoy the same experience they always enjoyed when masturbating.

The solution developed was to pair a virgin breeder with an experienced sire who had been taught

The Tinker’s Career: Part 2

Snowden Speaks — Tue, 18 Mar 2025 08:54:00 -0600

Estelle’s Training.

Based on a post by ron de, in 5 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.

"I feel a wetness."

Estelle sighed as my fingertip again stroked between her puffy outer lips.

"Yes, it is because you are arousing my passions. The flow will increase as I become more excited. It is so to ease the passage of your cock when that time comes."

I confess I was ready for that time to come at that moment, but refrained from acting upon that urge. Instead, I continued my examination of Estelle's cunny, for having never seen one, I was very curious.

I parted her lips and saw inside another pair of lips. They were much more slender and were an exciting series of ripples that originated at the soft fold of skin at the top of her cunny, the same soft fold I had touched before. As my fingertip traced between those ripples, they seemed to grasp and flow around it. Estelle would also make a tiny little mewing sound with each touch.

As Estelle had predicted, I soon saw a small amount of her slippery/sticky fluid flow from between the lips I stroked. She moaned then, and reached for my hand.

"One finger now; inside my portal; and move it in and out."

I was not certain where such a portal might be located, but reasoned the fluid must originate from that spot. Slowly I moved my fingertip down, probing gently as I did so, until it slipped into a spot that seemed to mold itself around the finger. As I began moving that finger in and out as Estelle had instructed, her hips rocked and she moaned again.

"Yes, Johnathan; that is the way. You stir my fires as they have not been stirred in some time. Pray add another finger to the one that gives me so much pleasure."

The second finger was a snug fit and I was somewhat concerned about injuring Estelle. I inserted it slowly, and when it joined the first in her warm, wet depths, began stroking both in and out. Estelle rocked her hips again, then began lifting her body into each push of my hand.

I felt Estelle's hand on my thigh and looked down. As I watched, she slipped her slender fingers up my thigh and then grasped my rigid cock and began stroking its length. To say that was pleasant would be to say a downpour is slightly damp. My mind was nearly carried away with the sensations she caused with her soft fingers. I knew what was to come soon, and wished she would instruct me to plunge my cock inside her lest I spill my seed on her hand.

She stroked me at the same pace as I moved my fingers in and out of her cunny for a while, then pulled on my stiff cock.

"Put your cock in my cunny now and move it as you do your fingers."

Estelle opened her thighs wide as I knelt between them, and pulled at my cock to guide it to the opening. Once she found the place with my swollen cock, she pulled on it again. I, in turn, pushed in.

The feeling of my cock slipping into her slippery warmth was indescribable. Estelle pulled at my hips to push it deeper inside her, and kept pulling until I felt my sack touching the cleft between her hips. She gasped when the base of my cock spread her lips and flattened them against her body, then sighed when I began stroking.

"Ah; it has been so long I am nearly at my end already."

I was not certain what she meant, but continued to stroke my cock in and out. After only a few moments, I felt my sack tighten and the now familiar feeling that meant I would spew my seed. Knowing the inevitable outcome, I attempted to pull out of her clasping depths that my seed would not be squirted inside her. Estelle gasped, "No; inside me" and then began rocking her hips wildly.

Controlling my actions then became an impossibility, for her gyrations had rendered any such attempt useless. Moments later, I felt the first spurt erupt from my cock when it was at its deepest penetration of her cunny.

Estelle cried out then, and arched her back. My second spurt splashed inside her as she arched higher and then began such a quaking and rocking it was difficult to keep my cock inside her. I did manage in spite of all her motions. With a groan, I thrust my cock deep and shot the last spurt as she cried out and then fell back to the bed.

Estelle wrapped her legs over my back then and held my cock inside her. She sighed and stroked my back.

"Hmm; this first lesson was quite satisfying. You are an apt apprentice."

"I only did as you instructed."

"Yes, but you did so with the great vigor I enjoy. I believe I will have to give you another lesson shortly."

And so Estelle did that night, two more lessons actually. For the second, she taught me of the ways to increase her passion by the rubbing of what she called her pearl. Once she had released me from the entrapment of her legs, I found that nub of flesh had come out from under a little fold of skin at the top of her cunny lips. It was very pink and very stiff, and when I touched it, Estelle nearly jumped into the air.

"Oh, yes; gently now, but continue and I will soon want to be skewered on your wonderful cock again."

The skewering did happen after a while, and Estelle proved to be even more active in her body movements. As I had already spent once, I was able to restrain myself, and continued to stroke my cock in and out of her swollen cunny lips until she cried out loudly and heaved herself up off the bed. The shaking of her body then was more than I could bear. My cock splattered her clasping passage with more of my seed.

The third lesson was the same, except the duration was longer. I attributed this to the partial sating of Estelle's desire and to the fact I had spent most of the seed my body had stored. Still, the ending was every bit as wonderful as the first two, and left me gasping for breath as Estelle pulled me down on top of her. I felt her teats press into my chest as she held me tight. After a few moments, she chuckled.

"I do believe you have a talent for this work."

I also chuckled.

"It was not work, Ma'am. Nothing so enjoyable could be called work."

Estelle stroked my back.

"Be that as it may, you have learned your skills well. Were the hour not late and were I not satisfied for the moment, we would have yet another lesson. I shall leave you for my own bed for now, but we shall continue our lessons when my husband is again away. Do not forget what you have learned tonight."

Estelle then rose from my bed and clasped her hand over her cunny. She chuckled and remarked the next time she would bring a cloth to stop the flow of our juices from her body, then left my bedchamber for her own. I slipped under the blanket and thought of my new teaching.

I was still somewhat fearful of her husband discovering the truth, but then realized Estelle had as much to fear as did I. Her husband would surely cast out both her and I were he to know of our coupling. That understanding caused my fears of discovery to wane, and I fell asleep knowing I would welcome any lessons she desired to teach me.

Still, I was apprehensive for the next two days, but found my fears to be unfounded. Estelle greeted her husband upon his return with a kiss and an embrace, and fixed us a special dinner that evening. Though I watched carefully from the corners of my eyes, she did not so much as look at me through the course of the meal.;

Master Eaton did inquire as to my progress with the manufacture of Estelle's new lantern and I showed him the various pieces I had shaped and filed. He was pleased and suggested I might make various piercings on the sides that the lantern would cast a pleasing pattern of light upon any surface near it when lit.

There were several patterns for such piercings in the shop, but when I examined them, I found them not to my liking. Instead, I drew a new pattern of piercings that pleased me. Upon showing them to Master Eaton, he remarked they were unique and fit for the lantern of his wife. I set about using a sharp punch to make the series of small holes of the design in the four sides of the lantern above the openings for the glass panels.;

Our business began to increase with the cool breezes and shorter days of autumn. The women of the village required new pans for baking of the usual holiday treats, and the waning daylight forced the use of lanterns even in the early evening. Master Eaton and I were busy in the shop from early light to dusk in fashioning these items. As a result, our supply of tin plate quickly required replacing.

I had thought to go with him to the mill for I had never done so, but at the last market, all the pastry cutters we had were purchased and still the women wished for more. He instructed me to stay in the shop and make as many as possible for the next market day.

I was happy with this decision for two reasons. I had the week prior to the market day fashioned a few cutters in the shape of the fir tree that would decorate each home during the Christmas season, and they were quickly sold for a price twice that for the normal round, oval, or star shaped cutters. They were simple to manufacture and required little more time than the other shapes, and it pleased me to know the women of the village wanted more.

The other reason I was happy was that the mill was a day's travel by wagon. Master Eaton would leave at first light, drive throughout the day, and then purchase the new stock of tin plate late in the afternoon. The next morning, he would begin the journey home and arrive in the village as the sun was setting. I would have almost two days and one night for more of Estelle's lessons.

True to my wishes, Master Eaton had only just climbed into the wagon seat and clucked to the horse when Estelle came into the workshop.

"How is my apprentice this fine day?"

"I am doing well, Ma'am. I would hope you are the same."

Estelle sighed, but then smiled.

"I am not, though I believe there to be a cure."

I was certain I knew what that cure might be, and smiled.

"Would I be able to assist with that remedy?"

"Oh, most certainly you can. It is a remedy I have not yet taught you. It may require much practice before the remedy is effective."

In my admittedly limited knowledge, I believed I understood the normal means of effecting that which Estelle desired. I was at a loss as to what she was saying.

"Is there not but one remedy?"

Estelle giggled.

"Johnathan, you have much to learn. There are many remedies, all similar, but all different in some ways. Come. I shall teach you of two that please me greatly."

Once in my bedchamber, Estelle lost no time in removing her clothing. As her loose, long legged under-trowsers fell from her hips and then to the floor, she chuckled.

"The remedy requires you to be without clothing. I cannot teach you if you remain as you are. Surely you are not embarrassed after our earlier lessons."

I was not embarrassed. I was only watching Estelle's breasts wobble about as she removed her clothing and thinking of how they had felt in my hands. I quickly pulled off my shirt, stepped out of my boots, and then unfastened my trousers. My cock bobbed in the air when I stepped from them, and Estelle chuckled again.

"I think my apprentice is ready for the next lesson, for your cock stands at the ready. We shall begin by easing your desires a bit, for I see already a droplet of your essence. That and the flood that will follow cannot enter me this day or I shall quite likely become with child. Do not be sad. There is another way, a way I believe you will greatly enjoy."

With that confusing statement, Estelle took me by the hand and bade me lie upon my bed. She sat down on the edge, then grasped my rigid cock and smiled.

"On such days as this, a proper woman would do thusly."

I watched, spellbound, as Estelle lowered her face to my cock, opened her mouth, and engulfed the swollen head. She sucked at it gently and then I felt her warm, wet tongue licking the underside. Estelle giggled when I groaned.

"Is this not as I said? I believe you do enjoy my new method."

She licked all around the darker head and caused me to groan.

"Yes, it is quite wonderful."

"I quite enjoy my method as well. Perhaps you will find this as pleasant."

Estelle slowly lowered her mouth over my cock head and then down my shaft. I felt gentle suction when her cheeks moved inward and then the sensation of my cock head touching the back of her throat. My hips lurched upwards of their own accord, and only because of her small hand with which Estelle gripped my shaft did it not plunge deeper.

Estelle giggled around her mouthful of my cock and then slowly pulled her lips back up the length. When she reached the rim of my cock head, she sucked a bit harder and swirled her tongue over the tip. My hips lurched again.

Estelle's mouth pulled off my cock head with a little smack, and she looked up at me.

"Shall I continue?"

My hips lurched again because she was slowly stroking my shaft. The feeling was much more arousing than when I did the same.

"As you said, your new methods might require practice to perfect, though I think you have already perfected this one."

Estelle giggled and then circled my cock head with her wet mouth. I felt her hand stroking my shaft as she bobbed her head up and down, and then her other hand fondling my sack.

At that time in my life, not much manipulation was required to bring me to my end, and that end was fast approaching. Estelle's stroking hands and her sucking mouth caused my sack to draw up, and I knew that meant I would spend. I attempted to warn her but she took no heed.

"Estelle, I cannot stop myself."

She only ceased her sucking and looked at my face.

"Then do not. I shall enjoy what is to come."

She resumed her stroking and sucking then, and I felt the end approaching. When I groaned again, Estelle thrust her sucking lips down my shaft until they met her hand and then pulled them back up. She did this rapidly several times before my loins exploded with the release of seed. As the first spurt left my throbbing cock, Estelle swallowed and then continued to swallow. The sensation of her throat closing on my cock head made me groan again as the second, then third and fourth spurt spewed from my body.

I was shaking somewhat when I eased my thrusting hips back to the bed. Estelle sucked as she lifted her lips from my cock. After that same smacking sound as her lips formed around my cock head and then released it, she used her thumb and fingers to strip up my length. She caught the resulting drops on her tongue, slipped that tongue into her mouth and then swallowed again.

"Umm; .I do love the taste of a man and his seed. We shall do this again presently, though you must learn another lesson first. As I enjoy your taste, you must learn to enjoy mine."

Estelle lay down beside me then and pulled my hand to her breast.

"Do as you did for our first lesson. Stroke my pillows and then my cunny. Once I am flowing with passion, I will teach you of what I speak."

I am somewhat proud of the fact that flowing was not long in coming, for this was only my second attempt at applying the skills I had learned. Estelle's teats quickly rose long and taut under my tongue and lips, and shortly after I touched her rippled inner lips, I felt the slippery juices begin to flow.

Estelle was breathing faster, and it was seemingly with difficulty she stopped her little moans in order to speak.

"Oh, yes; you; you have caused the flow. Now, my able apprentice, kneel between my legs as before, but; oh; do not enter my cunny with your cock."

"What am I to do then?"

"Use your tongue to lick my folds and my pearl."

To think of doing so was both fearful and exciting. I had witnessed the dogs on the estate doing the same, but had never given thought that people might do such a thing. Estelle seemed to want this, so I put my fears aside and knelt between her spread thighs.

The hair on her lips glistened with her wetness, and as I had already separated the strands that my fingers might enter her, her swollen lips were visible and a little open. A scent came to my nose as I lowered my face to those lips, a scent I had never smelt before and a scent that made my already stiffening cock twitch. Tentatively I touched those swollen lips with the tip of my tongue.

Estelle's juices were surprisingly pleasant to taste and I wasted no time in licking the length of her lips on the outside. She moaned and adjusted her position to open herself a little more.

"All around the outside and then between", she sighed.

It was with increasing pleasure I did as she asked. I found her outer lips to be very soft and a little puffy feeling. The slender lips hidden inside were even softer and rippled into folds. Both excited me greatly both for the wonderful texture as well as her musky and slightly tart taste.

As I lapped away, Estelle seemed to flow from time to time. I would feel a slight lifting of her hips, and if I let my tongue move down, I was rewarded by the taste of her fresh juices.

"My pearl now", she murmured between moans and gasps.

What I had seen as a small hidden button was now swollen stiff. At the first touch of my tongue, Estelle gasped and lifted her body into my face.

"Oh, yes; do not stop."

I did not stop, for by that time, I had realized if I continued, Estelle would reach her end. Making her do so would give me great pleasure, I thought, even though I could not sheath my cock in her tight cunny. I licked the stiff little button until Estelle was beginning to thrash about on my bed.

From my higher position now, I could look over the crinkled hairs on her mound and see Estelle's face. Her face was to the side and her mouth was open because she was panting. From time to time, she could close her mouth and then lick her lips, then resume her panting breaths. I thought the sight quite a beautiful one.

My tongue happened to slip from the turgid tip and instead stroked the side. Estelle moaned and her body tensed. Reasoning that several types of licking might be better for her than only the one, I began sliding my tongue on each side, then the top, and then back to the tip. Estelle began lifting her hips regularly, just as she had done when she reached her end before. A moment later I felt her hands on my head.

"Oh, Johnathan; I am nearly there. Suckle at my pearl and I shall reach that end."

Though her pearl was small, I was able to seal my lips around it, and I then began to suckle. The effect upon Estelle was quite remarkable. She began to rise slowly by arching her back, and I felt her entire body grow tense. A few moments later, she gasped and her body rose even more. A small cry followed this rise, and then I was forced to hold on to her hips because of the rapid rocking my efforts had caused. A louder cry slipped from her throat and she pressed my face tight into her cunny. I felt her pearl begin moving in and out, and suckled with more force to keep it between my lips.

Estelle suddenly cried out loudly, her cunny jerked up into my face several times, and I felt her thighs squeeze my head tightly. After one last lurch upwards, Estelle sighed and eased back down upon the bed and pulled me up over her body. As I lay there with her breasts pressed tightly to my chest, she kissed me.

So much did her lips move, it seemed as if she wished to join her lips to mine. I opened my mouth to allow this, and felt her small tongue slip in and touch mine.

I would suppose it to be more instinct than anything that made me attempt to thrust my stiff cock into her cunny. Estelle stopped kissing me and chuckled as she reached between us for my cock.

"My apprentice appears to need another stroking. On your knees over my pillows, Johnathan. I will remedy your desire."

What followed was much the same as my first experience with this new way of coupling without actually coupling. The strokes of her hand were just as arousing, and though she did not again take my cock into her mouth, I quickly reached my end.

As seed spewed in strong spurts from the tip, Estelle opened her mouth and attempted to direct the streams therein. She was successful at doing so with the third and fourth. The first spattered onto her breasts and the second painted her eyes and brow.

Estelle only chuckled and used a finger to capture the misguided streams and than transfer them to her mouth. She smiled at me.

"Such a flow so soon after the first is a pleasant surprise. I must rest now. We w

The Tinker’s Career: Part 1

Snowden Speaks — Sun, 16 Mar 2025 08:51:00 -0600

The adventures of a tinsmith's apprentice.

Based on a post by ron de, in 5 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.

I write this memoir to leave somewhat of a legacy to future generations, for my trade, like many, will no doubt be replaced by the mindless machines already in use for the making of pots, pans, and other tin plate work. Some will no doubt shake their heads at parts of this tale, though I make no excuses for it. Such has been my life so far, and it was a life lived to the fullest extent possible. To have done otherwise would mean I would suffer the regrets common to people who have lived a life of propriety until old age and therefore barren of excitement and adventure.

I was born Johnathan Harrison Erickson in the year 1753 on the estates of one Baron Farnsworthy, my father being the manager of the crops and livestock at the estate. My early years are of little consequence save that I grew up, as do most boys, being full of adventure and fearing nothing.

At the young age of twelve years I knew nothing of what I wished to do in life other than to chase the frogs in the brook and to roll hoops with my brother. I was happy doing so even though there were the occasional chores to be done around my father's household.

It was expected that I would carry water to the sheep that provided a lamb for Easter dinner and wool my mother spun into clothing for us. I was also expected to gather eggs from the hen house every morning and evening. The gathering of eggs would have normally been a chore for young girls, but as I had no female siblings, the task fell to me.

I did not mind the sheep. They were calm animals and would always come to my call in hopes of a morsel of the sweet cake of oats and molasses I sometimes brought them. True, were I to turn my back on the ram, he would often give my backside a jolt, but he did so in jest, or at least I believed such.

The hens and the rooster I did not like. The hens seemed to be always moody and pecked at my hands when I tried to take the eggs from under them. The rooster was a massive bird with long spurs, and seemed to believe I was after his harem for some reason. If I did not watch carefully, he would fly at me and try to sink his spurs into my leg. Often I wished for a Sunday chicken dinner at which the rooster would be the main course.

Upon my thirteenth birthday, my father informed me I was to leave home and learn a trade. He also explained that trade would be as a tinsmith, for he had arranged an apprenticeship for me with a Master Richard Eaton of Honiton in Cornwall. I would be indentured to Master Eaton for six years after which I would have attained the skills of a tinsmith and be able to earn a living for myself.

I was somewhat put out by this news. By then, I was aware that while my father was not of the landed gentry, my family did not want as did some, and I had assumed I would follow in his footsteps in a few years for such had been the case with he and his father. To learn that not only was that occupation the one chosen for my younger brother, Edward, but that I was to be banished to a life some hundred miles away was quite a shock.

I would suppose the reason to be one of intellect and constitution. Though a year younger than I, my brother stood a head taller and weighed half again as much. He was as strong as the bullocks he wrestled for the purpose of separating them from their knackers that spring. Strong though he was, he had no sense nor inclination toward mathematics or the manual arts.

I, on the other hand, was of slight build and greatly enjoyed using my mind to guide my hands in the making of things. Mathematics came easily to me, and I easily learned the basic calculations for the length of iron to form a hoop of a certain size and to construct the various angles used by the blacksmith on the estate.

In retrospect, my father's choice was a wise one. I now know I would not have enjoyed the life of a manager of the fields and livestock nearly so much as I have enjoyed the trade of tinker.;

I did not understand this at the time of my departure from the estate and was greatly saddened to see the fine house, barns, and fields fade into the distance as my father drove the wagon to Whitchurch. It was just at first light, and I watched the cows walking toward the barn for their morning milking as the wagon went by their pasture. Boys of my age did not shed tears over something so small as leaving home, though it was with great difficulty I did not do so.

In Whitchurch, my father purchased me a passage upon a coach to Honiton, the village in Cornwall where Master Eaton's shop was located. The journey was to take three days, and after some conversation and the exchange of some coin, the coach driver agreed to guide me through the trip. I was also to sit beside him in his perch high above the horses.

After the first mile, I was happy for that open, but secure seat. Several of the coach passengers rode on the roof, for the fare for those seats was much lower than for the padded seats inside. For the reduction in fare, they had exchanged a soft cushion for the hard, wooden roof of the coach, and the comfort of being inside for holding on with all their might to the railing around the roof lest they fall.

It was indeed necessary to hold tight to something, for the roadway was not at all smooth and level, being pocked here and there with shallow holes and depressions. As these often occurred on each wheel at a different time, the coach was jostled about in a fearful manner.

The driver seemed to ignore these pits, and kept encouraging his team to the trot. At this breakneck speed, the jostling was enough to loosen one's teeth or so it seemed. Many times I heard the two ladies inside the coach cry out in fear as a coach wheel dropped into a particularly deep hole and then climbed back out.

Our first stop was at a way station just outside Andover. At this station, the horses were changed. It was told to me by the coachman this was a new practice. Before, he would have driven his team the ten miles from Whitchurch and then stopped to rest them for an hour. By the changing of the horses, we would be on our way again in only the time required to lead the tired team from the coach and then hook up the traces of the new team.

Indeed, this was the case, and I had time only for a drink of water before climbing to the coachman's box again. He spoke to the new team and cracked his whip, and we were again off.

The rest of the journey is not worth relating save that the ride continued to be harsh, the food bad and the sleeping accommodations worse. After paying my three pence for the first night's lodging and seeing the scurrying insects when I pulled back the blanket, I joined the coachman on one of the seats inside the coach for my sleeping place.;

Our arrival in Honiton was likewise uneventful. I dismounted the driver's box with my small bag of belongings and began looking for Master Eaton. In his letter to my father, he had said he would wear a red shirt. I quickly spied him sitting on a bench in front of the station and went to introduce myself.

Master Eaton looked old to me at the time, but such is the way the young view adults I would suppose. I later learned he was forty-one at the time, and had worked many years as a journeyman to earn the title of Master. He seemed to be a stern man. As my apprenticeship progressed, I found this was the case, but that he was also a fair man in his appraisal of my work. After confirming my name, he walked me to the shop attached to one side of his house.

Though I did not know what to expect, his shop seemed small in comparison to the blacksmith's shop on the estate. It was indeed smaller, but I soon learned it was of the appropriate size for the few tools used by a tinsmith. There was a large table used for the laying out and cutting of the tin plate with a large shear at one end. The only other equipment I saw were two devices of iron shaped like the letter "T" stuck into holes in sections of log and what appeared to be a small stove.

Of more of a surprise was his wife. Upon seeing her in the kitchen preparing the evening meal, I thought her to be his daughter, for she looked very much younger than he. Master Eaton introduced her as his wife, Estelle. She smiled at me and then went back to her work. Master Eaton then showed me the quarters which would be mine for the duration of my apprenticeship. It was a very small room, more of a large closet really, and directly across the hall from the bedchamber he and Estelle used.;

As my apprenticeship was six years and the first four were only my learning the simpler tasks of the trade, it would be somewhat boring to relate those first four years here. Suffice it to say I spent nearly a year at sweeping up the workshop, cleaning the small stove, and filing parts to remove the sharp edges left by the shears. My day began at first light with a breakfast of oats and cream, and ended when the sunlight coming into the workshop through the windows had waned enough it was difficult to see to work. A supper came after a washing up, and then it was off to bed.

Only Saturday and Sunday were different. Saturday was market day, and Master Eaton and I would load his wagon with pails, lanterns, and pots and pans, and then go to the village market to sell them. I was expected to demonstrate the features of each to customers and to announce the price when asked. After a day at the market, we would come back to the workshop. I would again clean up and arrange things while Master Eaton counted the proceeds of the sales.

On Sundays, we did not work. Master Eaton was a pious man, and insisted upon my attendance at church in the mornings. The afternoons were mine to use as I wished, though since I had no coin, I could only enjoy a walk by the river or a trip through the town to see the sights.;

After that first year, Master Eaton taught me to do simple layouts and to use the hand shears. I thought this to be a great achievement at first. After spending hours upon hours laying out and then cutting the ears for pail and lantern handles, I wished for something more. Gradually over that year and the next two, Master Eaton taught me the proper use of the tools in the workshop.

By the fourth year of my training, I could make pastry cutters in various designs for sale to the local women. These small cutters were used to cut the dough used for biscuits and tea crackers into pleasing shapes. They were a joy to make, for I was able to use my own designs as well as the standard stars, circles, and ovals. It was with some pride I manufactured pastry cutters in the shape of the waning moon and the snowmen I had drawn on paper as a child.;

On my eighteenth birthday, Master Eaton instructed me to make a new candle lantern for Estelle as my first major undertaking. She used the lantern to light her way should she need to use the privy after dark. Her old lantern did not yield much light, for the panes were not of glass but of horn scraped thin enough to be mostly transparent. She wished for one with glass panes.

The pattern was to be the same, so I would take her lantern after breakfast, use it during the day to take measurements and to confirm how it was assembled, and then return it to her at dinner. I was very careful in constructing the lantern, because it was a test of my skills by Master Eaton, and also because of its intended owner.

When I first arrived at Master Eaton's workshop, I viewed Estelle as somewhat an ordinary woman. She was not in my estimation a particularly pretty woman though she did have a very pleasant smile and I did like the way in which her long dark-brown hair flowed over her shoulders. Her cooking was very good as were her efforts to maintain a clean house and to care for her husband.

On Saturday of every week she changed the sheets on the beds, including those on mine, then washed them and hung them on the lines behind the house to dry. The other days of the week she occupied her time with other housework or the sewing of clothing for herself, Master Eaton, and once I came to live in the house, for me.

I confess that as I grew older, I began to look upon Estelle in a different way. I began thinking she was a prettier woman than I had at first thought, and by the time I reached the age of eighteen, had discovered her to have a very arousing figure. I could not see much of her curves, of course. The propriety of the day dictated that women not expose themselves to any save their husband. She did have some ways of working, however, that tightened her bodice to her breasts or outlined the curve of her rounded backside when she assumed certain positions. I was always watching from the corner of my eye for one of these positions.

Estelle seemed not to notice my observations. She continued to bend at the waist in front of me when setting my bowl on the table at meal times. Doing so would cause her breasts to well up to the top of her dress, and the soft mounds would draw my eyes and fill my head with thoughts of touching them. She would bend at the waist when retrieving something from her oven as well, and the way her dress outlined her shapely hips caused similar thoughts. Those thoughts usually caused a rising in my trousers.

I understood the rising and its purpose, for I had seen the same rising by the ram each spring. His organ would extend from his sheath as he nuzzled a ewe who seemed to be agreeable to his attentions. He would then mount her and thrust his organ through her swollen portal and pump away for a while. My father had explained this was the way the ram planted his seed in the ewe.

I had no actual teachings in how this might be accomplished by people, though I assumed it to be much the same, for I had witnessed the same event with the cattle and the horses on the estate. I thought surely women must have a similar entrance though I had never seen a woman in such a state of undress that I might do a proper inspection. I could only imagine how such an entrance might appear every time Estelle bent to get some item from a low shelf or her oven.

It was often I imagined such of an evening, and stroked my manhood in an attempt to simulate what I imagined how coupling with a woman would feel. The first time seed erupted from the tip, I gasped, for the sensation was quite overpowering. It was also very pleasant, and from that day forth, I would exercise my imagination when visiting the privy.

Those visits were very pleasurable, though I felt the act would be even more so when done as nature intended. Alas, though I saw several girls of my age as they accompanied their mothers into the workshop to purchase a new pail or pan, I was somewhat backward with the ladies. They were a mystery to me, a mystery that tied my tongue into knots when I attempted to speak to them.;

As I related earlier, Estelle sewed the clothing we wore every day. She was an excellent seamstress, though my trousers and shirts tended to be loose fitting at first. Her reasons for the fit was that I was growing taller and broader through the shoulders, and were the fit proper at first, I would quickly be stretching her seams to the breaking point. She would size my clothing by using a string to obtain the various lengths and circumferences required, and then lay the string upon a rule and record the actual dimension.

I was eighteen and a half when she came to the workshop one afternoon. Master Eaton happened to be away at the rolling mill to purchase a supply of tin plate that day. I was taking the measurements for Estelle's new lantern at the time.

Estelle smiled and said my trousers were nearly worn through at the knees and she would make me a new pair. She produced her measuring string and began.

Estelle wrapped her string around my waist as she had in the past, but her fingers seemed to trace from my sides to my belly in a somewhat different manner. I took little notice of this as her interruption would cost me half an hour of working time and Master Eaton had given me a required date for the completion of her lantern.

Estelle pinched the string between her fingers, then laid it on her rule and noted the length on a small piece of paper. Then, she used her string to measure from my waist to my ankles. Again, her fingertips seemed to trace the path of the string, and this time, I felt a twinge in my manhood. She recorded that measurement as she had for my waist and then proceeded to measure from my ankle to my crotch. She had never made this measurement in the past and I wondered at the reason.

She smiled at my expression.

"Boys do not require so loose a fit as men. As you are nearly a man, I must increase the fit that you may be comfortable."

I understood her meaning and thought this to be a reasonable explanation, though my manhood and sack had been of a quite larger size for some time now. That there might be a different reason did not occur to me until she made the measurement.

With her left hand, Estelle held the end of her string at my ankle. She asked me to spread my legs a little, and once I had done so, her right paid out the string as she slowly moved her hand upwards. Her fingers brushed the inside of my thigh and I felt that same stirring in my manhood. They moved further up, still slowly, until they touched my sack. My manhood gave a lurch that pushed out the front of my trousers.

I was quite embarrassed, but Estelle seemed not to notice. When she turned to do the recording, I quickly pushed my manhood to an upright position and somewhat relived the bulge in my trousers.

Estelle made the measurement several times, saying she wished to be certain of the dimension. I was certain she would notice how my erect manhood still bulged my trousers since her hand touched it with each measuring attempt, but she said nothing. After she measured around my thigh in the area of my crotch and touched my sack several times in the process, my manhood was frightfully erect and I knew she must see it. Still, she gave no indication different than in the past.

As one might surmise, my manhood would not lay back down after such an experience. When Estelle went back into the house, I went to the privy. Remembering how her small hands had touched my body was enough to bring an end to my arousal. I went back to the workshop to resume my work.;

As I had learned from Master Eaton, all Masters of a certain craft belonged to a guild of those craftsmen. They met from time to time to discuss the craft and more importantly, the pricing of such goods the craftsmen made. In this way, they were able to value their wares at such prices as would bring in a good income and no Master would seek to price his work lower than any other. A week after Estelle had measured me for my new trousers, Master Eaton left for the guild meeting. I knew from past meetings it would be the next morning when he returned.

Estelle and I ate our evening meal and then prepared for bed. As was my usual practice, I went to the privy to relieve myself that I should not require the trip halfway through the night. Upon returning to the house, I quietly walked down the short hall for I did not wish to disturb Estelle. When I passed her door, it was ajar a ways, and I could not stop myself from looking through the opening.

Estelle stood beside their bed and she was without any clothing at all. She was facing away from me, and I felt my manhood begin to rise at the sight of her slender thighs, soft rounded hips, and the small diamond shaped opening between those thighs and hips. I could not tear away my eyes. Such a sight I had never before seen, and my mind drank in every soft curve.

Estelle turned toward me then, and her full breasts swayed gently at the movement. They were round and soft looking, and her teats were large, darker lumps sitting on likewise dark circles in the very centers of the firm globes. My eyes roamed downward then to the triangle of dark hair that covered her mound. The sight caused my manhood to extend to its full erect length and I was forced to rearrange its position lest it be painful. The slight movement caught her eye. She gasped, but did not attempt to cover herself, instead walking toward me with a stern look in her eyes.

"Mister Erickson, do you not know it is not proper to spy upon a lady in her bedroom?"

I stammered at first because speaking was difficult. Estelle stood not an arm's length away from me and her dark teats both drew my eyes and confused my tongue.

"I, I; I am sorry, Ma'am. I was just walking past and your door was open and ;"

"You try to apologize and yet you continue to stare at me. Have you no shame at all? When my husband hears of this, he will cast you into the streets. Your apprenticeship will end and he will info

Be Fruitful and Multiply: Part 2

Snowden Speaks — Fri, 14 Mar 2025 08:49:00 -0600

After a world-wide disaster, new rules take effect.

Based on a post by barnabus, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Jolene was satisfied that she had done her duty. She lay the washcloth on the night stand. Without a word, she sat on the bed, removed her saddle shoes and bobby socks, then, naked, slid under the covers. Jim's erection was returning with a vengeance at the sight of this nude girl climbing into bed with him. Jim was ready, his arm extended to be beneath Jolene's head and around her shoulders. On her back, her breasts lost their definition, spreading and flattening. It had never occurred to Jim how much a good bra shapes and complements a woman's figure.

Still, Jolene, the secret fantasy of every boy in school, had just climbed into his bed, and she had just given him her virginity. The streaks of blood he had found on his penis and thighs and Jolene's washcloth had confirmed that. He swelled with masculine pride knowing that he had been the man to pop Jolene's cherry! It was he, not her quarterback boyfriend, but he who had taken her virginity. He had hoped to fuck her today, but had only the faintest expectation that he might actually be her first! After all, she was beautiful and popular! Jim expected that Tom, her current boyfriend, or someone else would have claimed her maidenhead before today.

The two talked for a while, saying little, but talking none the less.

Finally, he boorishly put his hand on her breast. Jolene stiffened.

"They said we should do it several times to;"

Jolene felt the tension in her stomach when she heard Jim's words. "I know," she replied.

Jim was elated. Jolene had given him her virginity. She hadn't exactly fucked him; rather, she lay there on the bed and unresponsively let him fuck her which was as much as he could realistically expect. Then, he watched as she had removed the rest of her clothing and returned to his bed, naked, to do it again. Can life get any better than this? Yes! he decided openly allowing his fantasies to progress to the next step. It would be better if she fucked him back! But that was an unrealistic fantasy. 'Nice girls' would never actively participate in sex. They might permit it, but they would never initiate it and certainly never become the aggressor or even actively participate themselves.

Jolene was determined to do her duty, even though the experience might not be everything she had hoped for and the man was not the partner she would have chosen. Replenishing the world's population was more important than her own personal likes and dislikes.

As crude and inexperienced as Jim was, he was also a very perceptive man. He knew that their initial encounter had not been very satisfactory for Jolene And, if possible, he wanted to rectify that.

Softly, gently, his hand caressed her breast and body, slowly exploring every place he could reach, but always watching to see if she liked it. Jolene was tense and nervous, even frightened. The memory of the pain of her deflowerment was still fresh in her memory. But slowly, she began to relax beneath his tender touch. There was an itch forming deep inside her, a small but definite fire growing in her belly. Was this the beginnings of passion that Jim was stirring up in her?

Still holding her breast, Jim leaned over and kissed Jolene He was unskilled at kissing, but the kiss was gentle and although she lay unresponsive, there was a stirring in her loins and gradually she began to return the kiss, bringing her hand up behind Jim's head. Unconsciously, her vaginal muscles quivered with expectancy.

Jim kissed her nose, her cheekbones, her forehead, and gradually worked his way downward, grazing her perky nipples, momentarily sucking on them before his kisses worked their way downward. Again, she tensed nervously, knowing that he would be kissing her; down there! He observed how she tensed up when he kissed the area below her soft stomach and closed in on her most intimate areas.

As his kisses moved downward, the sheet moved with him, leaving her uncovered and exposed. Unconsciously, Jolene's hand covered her breasts, concealing them from view.

With utmost care and tenderness, he kissed her fur-lined mound. As he continued kissing her pubis, he brought up his hand and barely inserted a single digit into her damp vagina ever so slightly penetrating her, but causing a spasm of shuddering from the blond cheerleader. Her long, slender legs separated, permitting better access to the finger and hand. His kisses continued, his shoulder moved between her knees and his tongue found her clitoris jolting a whimper from her.

His finger moved very little, simply being a presence at the entrance of her womanhood while his darting tongue spurred her libido. The combination caused Jolene to rapidly become hot and bothered. She didn't love Jim. And she wasn't in love with him. So why was he generating this excitement, this thrill in her? It should be Tom touching her, not Jim!

Soon, she was practically pumping her hips against his finger and tongue. Her breath was coming hard and fast, she raised her head looking down, momentarily distracted by her tingling, fully erect, nipples that were pointing straight up. Jim, who had moved his entire body between her thighs, looked up and she gave an embarrassed smile that looked both innocent and hungry at the same time. The agitation she felt from the magical effect his finger and tongue extended far beyond where they were actually touching, radiating throughout her pelvis, breasts and, indeed, her entire viscera.

Overcome by stimulation, Jolene grabbed him by the hair and pulled his face upward so she could stop the maddening stimulus to her holy of holies. Her breasts flattened against his chest and her rock-hard nipples pressed into him as his weight settled on top of her, sandwiching her between his firm body and the mattress beneath her, but she didn't seem to mind. Their mouths met and Jolene could taste herself on his lips. She hesitated to kiss him.

Jolene felt his penis at her opening. This time, he had found it without her help. He was erect and ready to penetrate her again. She was trembling with temptation and anticipation and she gasped as he moved between her velvet lips. She was more than ready for another union! Closing her eyes, she surrendered, relaxing her body and her vaginal muscles, and began to kiss him back. Still afraid, Jolene steeled herself as a delicious ache in her abdomen grew.

It was like a soft electrical current running through her pelvis and up her spine! Once again, she froze, caught in the deep kiss she had instigated, yielding before the insidious pressure as he slowly entered her, at first, barely penetrating, but pushing in deeper with each very gentle thrust, proceeding slowly, one inch at a time. A tiny moan emerged into his mouth, smothered by her lips, as his penetration deepened.

Jolene's well-lubricated vagina was still sore from the loss of her virginity, but there was almost no discomfort as he moved into her this time. The stimulation in her loins was growing as the kiss deepened. Her thighs presented no resistance as Jim slipped between them. Slowly, she shifted her hips until she felt Jim slip comfortably into her.

Jim began a slow, rhythmic movement, filling her, then pulling out only to press into her again.

(Jim was thankful he had found that book in the library that seriously talked about technique, and not simply flat out fucking. He was using some of the techniques mentioned in the book; and even with his lack of experience, he recognized Jolene's responses.)

Jolene was surprised to find that her misgivings about joining in sexual intercourse with this geek were slowly eroding. He had said he was a virgin. So where had he learned to treat a woman like that? She realized that she was moving her hips in a steady rhythm matching the rhythm that Jim had established. Catching herself, she froze, but sensations she never thought possible were careening through her mind and body.

When she realized that she was matching his rhythm a second time, she relaxed and let her body respond as it wanted to, moving her hips against his which allowed very real pleasures to overtake her. Her conscious kept reminding her what was 'right' and what she 'should' be doing. but this conflicted with her instinctive physical responses and her confusing emotions. Slowly, her body won out and Jolene began rocking her pelvis into Jim, acknowledging the feeling of having him inside of her, filling her, stimulating her desire. It was almost more than she could take.

Jolene progressively became as fully aroused as she could imagine. Surrendering her ability to think clearly, the guilt she had felt having sex with a virtual stranger was replaced with anticipation and increased pleasure as her body became acclimated to being female and delighting in the joys of receiving physical love from this wonderful male. He had to be a wonderful man to make her feel like this.

Jim grinned and pumped more urgently now, shifting forward, plunging his stiff cock deep into her tight, slick opening with each long, deliberate thrust. Jolene didn't even realize it when she started panting and making tiny animal noises. Jim stroked deeper, burying himself to the hilt inside her, each stroke making her moan softly. He felt his cock swelling inside the cheerleader, and his arousal caused him to become animal-like in his increasingly intense thrusting. He penetrated her deep and hard, driving her to loud moans of ecstasy.

Jolene's response made Jim swell with male pride, and he pumped her even harder and faster. Fucking this beautiful cheerleader made him feel wonderful! The bed quaked with their passionate lovemaking as Jolene arched her back, whimpering and crying out while Jim pumped in piston-like rhythm. Slowly but surely, Jolene's once innocent and virtuous reserve was collapsing, and her once icy demeanor was melting away as her instinctive feminine needs were awakened by Jim's attentions and lovemaking. There was a satisfied look of euphoria and adoration on Jolene's face when Jim climaxed and once more she received his sperm inside of her
Chapter 4: Ah!

Jolene had felt a strange excitement and frustration building within her. In many respects it reminded her of her first kiss. Or the emotions she felt when she first fell in love. She suspected it might be an orgasm building, but not yet achieved. But Jim had stopped before she could find out.

She'd had sex twice now and hadn't received an orgasm. And how after three times she still had not had an orgasm, she was starting to wonder if something was wrong with her or if her girlfriends were just making stuff up. Maybe all of this stuff about orgasms was just stuff that people had made; Tiffany gasped and suddenly learned what all her girlfriends were talking about.

Jolene had heard about orgasms, those mysterious, mystical experiences that older girls whispered about, but Jolene didn't know anyone who had experienced one. Nanette was her only close girlfriends who had 'gone all the way'. Several times, as a matter of fact, and with different boys. And Nanette had complained that once she slept with a boy, all he ever wanted to do was fuck! But Nanette also grumbled that she had never experienced an orgasm with a boy. And yet, this nerd, Jim, seemed to have Jolene teetering close to one. Then he came and he stopped. It was like Nanette had said: "when a boy's through, he's through!"

Crudely speaking, Jolene had been given the assignment to fuck. And since Jim was her assigned 'mate', they were obviously going to continue fucking, at least for a while. Virtue and propriety were no longer considerations in Jolene's life, at least not in relationship to sex. And if she was going to fuck, Jolene wanted to orgasm, too! She deserved an orgasm! She wasn't going to be cheated out of an orgasm just because some man didn't make the effort. She was entitled to her orgasm! Why didn't he know how to give it to her?

But she knew that was silly. If she didn't know how to achieve an orgasm, why should Jim know how to give her an orgasm. He had said that he was a virgin too, so how would he know?

When his softening member slipped out of her, Jolene impatiently tried to urge Jim to make love to her again. She actually wanted to experience an orgasm and find out what it was really all about. But Jim became agitated and complained that he needed time to 'recharge', whatever that meant. When she grasped his manhood and tried squeezing and pulling, she was surprised that there was no response. Jim explained that it took a man a period of time before he could regain an erection.

"How long?" she demanded. Jim didn't know.

Petulant, Jolene lay back to wait. Strangely, she had never even though about orgasming when she had been with Tom in the back seat of his Jeep.

Jim was somewhat shocked by the 'new Jolene'. This was not the prim and proper Jolene he had seen at school for years. It was not the shy and submissive Jolene of his fantasies. Still, he had wanted Jolene to fuck him back. And that was exactly what she had done. Now she showed every inclination to actively fuck him without reservation. So, why not?

He had also been surprised when she pouted and pulled away whenever she didn't get what she wanted or whenever things didn't work out the way she wanted. He had never seen this side of her before, and it wasn't very attractive.

But Jim was young and virile, so it wasn't long before he began growing larger and harder in her hand.

Jolene felt it first. Then her eyes were drawn to that shaft in her hand that was slowly, much too slowly, rising.

"Now?" she asked, almost eagerly. "Again?"

Without prompting, she spread her knees wide and licked her full red lips as Jim crawled between her legs. Jim was afraid of this new Jolene: would he be good enough for her? It was one thing to simply stick his cock in a girl's pussy and shoot his wad. The responsibility of doing whatever was necessary to please her was intimidating and scary as hell.

Jolene, with heart hammering, still holding is penis in her hand, guided him straight to her womanhood where he paused, savoring the moment, but also dreading it.

Not knowing what to do, he decided to try every option he could remember from the book. It was frightening, and a tremendous responsibility. And it would be much more work than fun.

Jim started by sucking and gnawing on her neck. Jolene rolled her head from side to side and sobbed. He bit her earlobe, unfortunately much too hard, and she cried out. It hurt her, but it excited her also and she didn't want to do anything to interfere with the excitement.

Jim nibbled and kissed his way down until he found a nipple. Jolene moaned when he sucked hard, almost filling his mouth with her breast. Lustful pleasure transfused her as her breast distended, reforming itself to the contours of his mouth. She was twisting and turning beneath him, but she made no attempt to escape him. Desire was burning inside of her, her womanhood yearned for sex. The pure, prim and proper Jolene, the captain of the cheer leading team, was aching to be fucked!

Jim moved from one breast to the other, sucking her nipples, making them harden with each intake into his mouth. Then, her senses crashed through the ceiling as, unexpectedly, he slipped a single finger barely into her pussy. Unbidden, Jolene's juices poured into his hand and Jolene started panting at his unexpected, but intensely erotic intrusion.

Still holding his penis, she pulled him toward her. The teasing finger disappeared and she felt something large and rubbery separate her feminine folds.

She began to stroke his shaft and held her breath as he mounted her. She was utterly helpless and vulnerable as his weight settled on top of her. Then she gave a squeal of sexual excitement and lust as the now familiar cock moved into her already hot pussy She gave a gasp, then sobbed as he moved deeper, stretching her wider than she could have imagined. Gasping, Jolene was filled like she never imagined she would be filled.

For a minute, she kept her hand between them, feeling his penis as it moved into and out of her, receiving the double sensation of feeling with her hand what her body was experiencing.

She removed her hand and clutched him to her pressing her soft mountains of flesh into his chest and he buried his cock to the hilt.

From his first entry, her body responded. Jolene whimpered as his penis began to repeatedly press into her increasingly hot body. She responded to every thrust. His thrusts became stronger, more masterful, building a sexual heat within her beyond anything she could ever have imagined. Waves of pleasure made her back arch and she sighed in sheer delight!

This was the road to orgasm. Jolene was getting what she wanted. Why, then, was she so surprised that she was receiving it? Smiling, she let her head lie back 'Savor it,' she told herself. 'Don't analyze it! Let it go. Enjoy it! Let it go!'

Jim was desperately trying to read her responses, trying to observe what pleased her, what satisfied her. He had cum twice. He wanted to give her the same satisfaction that he had enjoyed.

He watched her beautiful face and grinned when he saw her smile and heard her sighing in sexual bliss.

Jolene's luscious body was building on the arousal of their last attempt at lovemaking. She suspected the orgasm that she wanted so much was coming. "I can't believe what your cock is doing to me," she gasped out, and immediately she felt Jim's manhood harden even more as she uttered the 'dirty words'.

Her hips were thrusting into his as hard as he was thrusting into her. She was giving Jim the ride of his life!

<Take your time and learn to explore each other,> the book had told Jim. <The first time may be very awkward but once that is over you will be past the initial fears and be able to learn each other’s bodies and responses. But don't rush it.>

Having left behind her initial virginal reluctance and reserve Jolene throw herself into the act of love with wild abandon. She had no reservations this time and she actively joined in. Arching her back, she pressed her breasts into Jim's hands when he fondled her. His lips on her nipples sent the most wonderful sensations throughout her entire body. She was so intent on seeking her orgasm that she no longer cared who she was with. Her pleasure increased as she totally accepted Jim as her mate. Remembering what she had done earlier and what had excited her, Jolene ventured further into unexplored territory. She used every thrust as an experiment to try to find how she could to shift her body to achieve more stimulation. Every time he thrust into her, she responded, moving her hips, trying to position them so that, selfishly, she would receive the greatest stimulation.

Jim, having the gratification of already fucking Jolene twice, concentrated on the lessons he had learned in that book, paying constant attention to her, listening to her responses, observing what she did, doing whatever he sensed pleased her.

Panting hard, Jolene immersed herself in the warm excitement washing through her. It was more intense than anything she had ever experienced and Jolene's libido exploded to unbelievable proportions. Jim was doing new and wonderful things to her. Her sexual energy was sizzling and she was squirming and tingling in all the right places!

Poor Jim struggled to keep up with Jolene's incredibly self-absorbed efforts. It was only Jim's youthful stamina that gave him the energy, and the fact that he had already climaxed twice that gave him the 'staying power' to meet Jolene's demands, working with her as she frantically pursued the much desired orgasm.

Jolene barely heard the sensual words he whispered in her ear, lost in her own storm of sexual heat and lust. Her whole body ached as his cock drove her toward orgasm. She closed her eyes.

He clutched her breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers as he pressed deeply into her womanhood: The womanhood that felt like a vice of soft flesh clamped around him.

And suddenly, without warning, Jim's golden haired mate thrashed and screamed as the tingling in her breasts turned into the illusive orgasm, claiming her, convulsing through her enthusiastic body. Jolene's face transformed into an expression of euphoria and adoration. She latched her heels behind his knees, to pull her pubis against his. Her fingers clawed at his back as she arched her spine and screeched with pleasure. Engulfed in an ultimate will-breaking orgasm, Jolene felt nothing but hunger and lust, pleasure and debauchery. She came over and over, screaming and sobbing in lus

Be Fruitful and Multiply: Part 1

Snowden Speaks — Wed, 12 Mar 2025 08:46:00 -0600

After a world-wide disaster, new rules take effect.

Based on a post by barnabus, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Forward:

The setting is the nineteen fifties. After a world-wide disaster, new rules take effect.

Jolene; A high school cheer leader, awakens to find that a worldwide disaster has occurred killing 85% of the world's population. She has been selected to participate in a breeding program to replenish the world's population.

Most of the participants are virgins. It also explains Jolene's surprise when she hears a girl moaning with sexual pleasure and Jim's shock when Jolene becomes 'the aggressive partner' in their relationship.(For those who grew up after the 'free love' period of the 1960s and 1970s, you'll just have to take my word for it: That's the way it was!)

Nanette, on the other hand, has obviously been 'sexually active' (to use a modern term: In the 1950s, another description would have been used), but it becomes apparent to the astute reader that although she has been sexually 'active', she probably has not received a great deal of satisfaction from her sexual activity.
Chapter 1: Orientation.

"As you all know, there was a world-wide disaster."

As if coming out of a daydream, Jolene's mind drifted back into reality. The last thing she remembered was sitting in a Trigonometry class thinking about a cheer leading routine. She was the head cheerleader and was scheduled to run the next cheer leading practice.

There was a man with a clipboard and a briefcase at the head of a long table, talking. Instinctively, Jolene tuned in on what he was saying.

The word "disaster" grabbed her attention. He continued: "To our best estimate, as much as 85% of mankind has been destroyed." Jolene was suddenly awake and alert, carefully listening. He went on, "The government, what's left of it, has determined that an organized breeding program must be established, and you have all been selected to be part of the initial phase. Everyone in this group is 18 years old and was a high school student. You're all in good health, and hopefully, you will be able to produce healthy offspring. The girls are all in their fertile period, so this is an ideal time for each of you. You have been pared with a partner who is a favorable genetic match to you, and you have been brought here to see if you are compatible with your match. And if you are, you will be expected to breed to procreate children to help repopulate our country and world."

Jolene looked around the room. Everyone was about her age, except the man at the head of the table. They were arranged in boy-girl couples. Jolene recognized two of the girls in the room: she was sitting next to Jim and across the table, Jolene recognized Nanette, a close girlfriend, was sitting next to John. Jim and John were both nerds and not part of Jolene's 'inner circle' of friends. She had seen the another girl and boy from her school in the halls and knew they were a couple, but she didn't know their names. And there were other couples that Jolene didn't know, apparently from other schools.

Nanette wore a new, scandalously fashionable see-through blouse which displayed her lacy camisole top that hugged her well-shaped breasts and revealed the lines of Nanette's brassier The bra-straps were clearly visible. There was just a trace of two bumps showing exactly where Nanette's nipples were beneath her undergarments. Nan's skirt was the shortest skirt in the room, stopping slightly above her knees: rather immodest for the mid 1950's.¬

All of the girls were wearing blouses that buttoned down the front and skirts. There were no sweaters or slacks.

Jolene raised her hand. "Excuse me. What disaster? I don't know about any disaster. The last thing I remember was sitting in Trigonometry class at school. What are you talking about?"

"That is a normal after effect of the disaster. The disaster occurred several weeks ago. Many people do not remember either the disaster or what happened afterward. At some point, your memory will begin working again and will pick up from that point onward. I'm sorry, Miss," he paused to look at his clipboard, "Miss Jolene, if your memory hasn't begun functioning yet. And in case you don't remember, I am the monitor of this program."

He scanned the others in the room. "Are there others that don't remember what has happened before today?" he asked. Several hands in the room went up. "This must be terribly frightening for you."

Jolene and several others nodded.

"I'm sorry that you are finding yourself in this situation without knowing what led up to it. However, it has been decided we cannot delay the program to increase our population any longer." He looked around the room, meeting the many nervous eyes in the room. "I appreciate that this might be especially difficult for many of you. In this world of the 1950's most of you young people live celibate lives, and although you might think about sex, probably most of you have never", he paused and stammered, "taken your fantasies to, um, shall we say" he paused to swallow, "their ultimate conclusion."

Many of the young people, especially the girls, were embarrassed the casual way he was talking about their sex-lives; or, rather, the lack of sex in their lives.

Again, Jolene raised her hand. "Excuse me, but shouldn't I be matched up with Tom Green?" she asked. Tom was her boyfriend. He was a year older than she was and they had been dating for a little more than a year.

"Green?" The man asked and pulled a large book from his briefcase. He perused the pages, then looked up sadly. "I'm afraid Tom didn't survive the disaster. I'm sorry, Miss Jolene" He returned his book to his briefcase. "In any case, we believe that, er," he fumbled with a name and pointed toward Jim, the boy sitting next to Jolene, "that he is the best genetic match for you that is available."

Jolene gave Jim a withering sideways glance.

Resuming his lecture, the man continued, "Each couple will be given its own room, which will be adequately furnished. We would like to get the program started as soon as possible." There was a moment of embarrassed silence in the room before the monitor added: "I know that many of you are embarrassed by this, but let me assure you that there are boys and girls all around the country are meeting in rooms like this and are being told the same things you are. Many are meeting their prospective mates for the very first time. I believe you all have the advantage of already being acquainted with the mate that has been selected for you."

A pretty girl, the one from her school that Jolene didn't know, raised her hand. "But I can't do this. I'm not married to; " she pointed to the boy sitting next to her.

"We chose to start this program without requiring marriage," the monitor stated. "If it turns out that your offspring match our genetic expectations and you wish to get married to your partner, then of course you can. But we'd like to keep the option of rearranging the couples if the genetics don't work out the way we hope they will. We need to replenish our population as rapidly as feasible and to expand our gene pool as widely as possible. Therefore, every girl of childbearing age will be expected to have at least four to six children. Ideally, each child will be sired by a different father since that will give us the widest possible diversity to our gene pool. So for the moment, marriage is not required. If you wish to be married before you proceed, we can furnish you with an appropriate clergyman.

The girl who had raised the question looked at the boy sitting next to her, and shook her head. "No, I think marriage can wait." Obviously, although she had been dating her 'mate', she wasn't ready to be married to him, yet. She probably also was not enamored with the idea of deliberately having a baby with him. Or possibly it was simply going through the process of starting a baby that she didn't look forward to.

Again, Jolene raised her hand. "I'm only eighteen. That's awfully young to have a baby, or to start a family," she stated.

"The world is different now," the monitor stated. "Some of the old principles are not practical anymore. This program starts with 18-year-olds and above, but soon, probably even younger girls will be encouraged to have babies."

Considering the discussion closed, the monitor concluded his remarks.

"All right, then. We will take each couple to its room and we will allow you to proceed. Each room is equipped with a sofa and a bed and bathroom facilities. There is a phone in each room. Simply pick up the phone if any of you need help or encouragement. We're here to help you, and we'd like to make things as easy as possible for you."

He stood and started toward the door. "Oh, I know this may be difficult for many of you. I suggest that once you are in your room, girls should open their blouses and remove their bras and panties. Boys should remove their trousers and unbutton your shirts. This may help encourage the mood.

"Also, remember, our goal is for each girl to get pregnant as soon as possible. Therefore, we encourage each of you to copulate several times to increase your odds of getting pregnant. He paused and faced the group with a smile that somehow seemed inappropriate.

"And now," he said officiously, "be fruitful and multiply."
Chapter 2: Getting started.

The room had the sterile feel of a hotel room. There were no windows, and Jolene remembered there had not been a window in the room where they had their 'orientation'.

Painfully self-consciously, both Jim and Jolene turned away from each other to remove the required garments.

When they turned to face each other, both quickly averted their eyes after a quick, curious glance. Jolene was relieved that even though Jim had removed his pants, he had the presence of mind to keep one button on his shirt closed. Thus his shirt hung down far enough to conceal his male anatomy.

Jim's glance revealed that although her blouse was open, either she wasn't wearing a bra (something that he had suspected when he had seen her walking around school with an eye-catching bounce) or it had been one of these open-in-the-front bras and she had already opened it. Of course, her skirt hung down revealing nothing improper.

Then, as if by mutual agreement they both sat on the sofa facing each other. The sofa was wide enough that Jim could rest his arm on the back behind Jolene's shoulders, but there was still a small distance separating them.

Both teen were embarrassed and uncomfortable. And both were afraid to speak the first words.

Jolene couldn't imagine how she could be in a hotel room with a boy she scarcely knew. Jolene had good grades in school, was head cheerleader, was planning to attend college. She came from a well-to-do family who lived in a good neighborhood in a big house.

She had always known she would give up her virginity someday. Having been raised with the idea of 'saving herself' for her wedding night, she had assumed it would be when she got married. But Tom, her boyfriend, had been pressuring her during the past couple of months. Tom's pressure had led her to question the validity of waiting and she had been seriously considering 'doing it' with Tom.

After all, Tom had argued, the hymen was just a small piece of membrane: it's presence or absence is totally invisible to the external eye. In fact, some girls don't even have one. And some have lost it riding bicycles or in some other innocuous way.

And if Jolene married someone other than Tom, and virginity was important to her husband, Tom reasoned, Jolene could always assure her husband that he was the first one and her husband would never know the difference.

But now, if she was going to have a baby, virginity was really a moot point.

Jim was a relative stranger to her. She had seen him in the halls at school and they had spoken briefly, but she really knew very little about him.

'It's not the right time of the month for me to get pregnant', Jolene thought. But with a start she realized that apparently some time had passed since the 'disaster', whatever the 'disaster' had been. Undoubtedly, she was at a different place in her cycle than she remembered.

Without a word, Jim slipped the band from her head that held her hair in place. Then slowly, one at a time, he removed her hairpins, allowing her hair to fall over her shoulders. When the last pin was removed, Jolene shook her hair loose, allowing it to fall naturally over her shoulders.

Finally, Jolene looked into Jim's eyes, her face filled with fear and concern.

"I guess we're lab partners and we've been given a homework assignment," she stated flatly. "Do you think we should start?" she asked, and, although Jim had only seen the slight movement of her arm, he felt her hand pushing his shirt aside and gently encircled his manhood. It was already erect. He was afraid. He had never done this before.

"Do you think we should?" He asked looking down.

Jolene nodded her head and looked down. Already Jim's teenage penis was pulsing at her soft, feather-like touch.

Jolene's boyfriend, Tom, liked it when she held him like this, although she had only held him through his pants. Now she was touching Jim's naked penis. and apparently Jim liked it, too.

Staring at her breasts, Jim hesitantly raised his hand, but he stopped short. "Are you sure it's all right?" he asked, unable to believe that he was being touched by the head cheerleader, the most beautiful and popular girl in class, and she was waiting, squeezing his penis ever so gently, her eyes watching his hand, her lips parted expectantly.

"I think so," she replied, nervously glancing around the room. "Go ahead. You can touch them." She whispered, her eyes again returning to Jim's hand.

As gently as he could, he allowed his hand and palm to slide inside her blouse, beneath her breast as if to support it. He weighed it in his hand. She took a deep breath and her fingers surrounding his penis closed a little tighter. Jim closed his fingers around her breast, feeling its softness, and sensed her hold her breath. He wasn't sure what to expect, He had never touched a woman's bare breast before. Jolene's breasts were perfectly shaped, not too large, sagging ever so slightly under the effects of gravity ('would they sag a lot more when she grew older?' he wondered), with perfect nipples protruding slightly from tan aureoles located exactly where they should be. Her breasts were softer than Jim expected. Somehow he thought they would be firm and full, but decided that even though she was a senior in high school and had passed her 18th birthday, perhaps her body had not yet fully matured.

His fingers found her nipple and gently grasped it, squeezing very slightly.

"Oh!" She gave a surprised moan and an unexplained tingle ran up her spine. Her fingers reflexively tightened around Jim's penis. He gently rolled the nipple, and she moaned again she gave a small whimpering sound, and again her grip tightened around his penis. She was holding him so tightly, it almost hurt, but he didn't want to say anything.

"Am I hurting you?" Jim asked, releasing her breast and lifting his hand slightly, barely maintaining contact with her breast.

"No!" she answered immediately, and dropping his manhood, her hand flashed to Jim's and she pressed his palm against her breast. "No, you're not hurting me. It's just; I don't know,; "

She hesitated.

"What is it?" Jim asked, sounding like he sincerely wanted to know what she was thinking.

"I've never felt this way before," Jolene stammered. "Do that again. I mean, with your fingers on my nipples."

Jim took her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed.

"No; softer! They're very sensitive! Be gentle!"

Jim rolled her nipples as gently as he could between his fingers and heard her moan, "Yes! That's it!"

He kept rolling and her hand returned to his lap to find and grip his penis again.

"I don't know how to explain it," she whispered, her head leaning back against the sofa, her hand tightening around his penis.

"It; they're sensitive." She gave a small gasp, "and when you, uh, roll them like that, it stimulates them." (Jim could feel the nipples growing bigger and harder between his fingers.) Jolene continued, "and it; makes me feel; funny. It makes me feel funny in other places, too!" She was breathing faster now, and so was Jim.

Jolene loved her boyfriend, Tom, and at his insistence, she had reluctantly let him touch her breasts. But he always mauled them like he was mixing meatloaf. had always been impatient and grew irritated if she asked him to be gentler or to do anything differently. Jim, on the other hand, was actually listening to her and doing what she asked him to. The difference was incredible. Although she was not in love with Jim, her body was reacting more strongly to him than it ever had with her boyfriend.

Jim changed his hold of her breast, capturing her nipple between his index and middle finger, which freed up his thumb to push back her blouse giving him a better view of those beautifully shaped teen-aged mounds. He kissed her just above the collarbone, right where her blouse met her skin. She arched her back, pressing her breast into Jim's hand. Encouraged, he kissed her chest a little lower and again she seemed to press her chest into the kiss. Jim paused and looked up at her.

"May I kiss your;" She opened her eyes and met his. "Can I kiss;" Jim swallowed hard, trying to find the courage to speak the words.

"You can kiss my breasts. And my nipples, too. I think I'd like that. That is, if you want to!"

"I want to!" Jim replied, returning his attention toward her chest and gently brushing his lips against the flesh where the top of her breast met her chest. He changed his grip on her breast so once again, cradling her protrusion in the palm of his hand, but he still kept her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, gently rolling it. She squirmed a little, but made no attempt to pull away from him.

"It's funny," Jolene commented. "I always imagined sex as a nighttime thing. I never thought of having sex during the day."

Jim nodded. "I guess you can do it anytime you wanted. I never thought about it." Somehow, Jolene doubted that he had really never thought about it.

He kissed more of her breast and began moving his lips toward her nipple with each kiss. Shifting his hand to support her breast, he nibbled at the top of her nipple, then softly drew the nipple into his mouth.

The electricity swept through Jolene "Oh," she moaned. He was gently, sweetly, sucking on her, pausing every now and then to kiss her nipple. It was exceedingly erotic and generated a ripple in her stomach.

She looked down to watch Jim nursing at her teats and instinctively, she raised her hand to support her breast for his lips. As she took over the job of holding her breast steady, Jim's hand slid down her stomach, grazed over her skirt where it covered her pubis, and continued down the inside of her thigh until it came to the hem of her skirt and settled over the bare skin of her leg.

Suddenly frightened again, Jolene pulled her breast back and grabbed Jim's hand on her bare leg. "Tom, don't!"

Jim stopped his sucking and raised his head to look at her. "I'm not Tom," he whispered. "Tom is not here."

Burning from mortification, Jolene quickly apologized. "I'm sorry, Jim! It's just that, well, I've had to stop Tom," Jolene paused and shuddered, "from doing what you're doing. I'm sorry."

"I understand," Jim replied sympathetically.

"I know! Things have changed. Things are different now," Jolene replied miserably. "I refused Tom. And now," Jolene gave an involuntary sob, "now I'll never;"

"I understand," Jim whispered soothingly, releasing his grip on her thigh to put his arm around her. Jolene curled up in his arms and sobbed. Jim held her close and she was comforted being held snugly close to a warm, masculine body while she sobbed, mourning the loss of her boyfriend. Abstractly, she wondered why Tom had never taken the time to simply hold her, especially when she needed comfort.

After a while, her sobs subsided. She composed herself and sat up to pull a Kleenex from the box on the table and blow her nose.

"I'm sorry, Jim," she sighed, and she lay back on the sofa. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "I know what we have to do! We both know what's at stake here. "

"I know you were dating Tom. He must be on your mind. Do you want to

Angel of Mercy: Part 2

Snowden Speaks — Mon, 10 Mar 2025 12:16:00 -0600

Miracles can happen on Christmas Eve.

Based on a post by auguy86, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.

“I; I don’t want to just be a charity case,” Ken replied. “If you do this, Gabrielle;”

“It will only be because I want to. Promise,” Gabby replied, finishing his thought. “Now, your first lesson in kissing: making the move. I’m a young, attractive woman who has been making eye contact with you all night and finding every excuse in the book to touch you. You may not realize it, but when a woman does that, it means she’s ready for you to make the move. Try it on me, just like I did.”

Mimicking Ken, Gabby closed her eyes, waiting for the moment that Ken would kiss her once more. He leaned in as she had done, trying to take his time and not rush anything. As he was about to kiss her, he remembered that agonizing wait when he could sense her almost on top of him. Pausing mere centimeters from her lips, he allowed the tension to build up for a few moments. Soon, a huge smile began to form on Gabby’s lips; she was enjoying this, and he hadn’t even touched her yet! Ken collected his courage and finally met her lips with his, moving them ever so slightly as he kissed her. He only had his instincts to guide him, but she didn’t seem to mind one bit.

“Umm; that was very nice,” Gabby whispered as they parted. “Good job in mimicking my technique. Let’s try one more. This time, lick your lips just a bit before you kiss me, and try to let our mouths fit together like a puzzle. You can take my lower lip between yours, or I can take your lip between mine. Tilting your head to the side a bit is also a natural position. The possibilities are almost endless. When you’re ready, don’t be afraid to put your tongue in my mouth. In the future, you’ll want to be careful about doing this too soon, but for our purposes tonight, go right ahead.”

Ken did as she instructed, and found that the increased moisture to be quite pleasant. It allowed each of their lips to slide along the other’s with little effort. All too soon, he felt Gabby take his lower lip in hers, sucking lightly and even nibbling for an instant. After she did this a second time, Ken took the hint and reciprocated in kind, eliciting a contented murmur from Gabby. As their kissing became more passionate, he could no longer resist the urge to taste this gorgeous woman. Still tentative, he pressed his tongue against the crease of her lips, which parted to allow him entry. Though he didn’t know what to do once he was in, he soon found himself enthralled in Gabby’s passions. Her tongue danced with his, exploring his mouth in a slow, methodical fashion. This gave him the perfect gauge to judge his own efforts by. After nearly twenty minutes of making out, they finally separated, their faces flushed from the experience.

“Holy shit.” Ken sighed.

“You, my friend, are one quick study. The next girl that kisses you may well get addicted and refuse to let you go,” Gabby agreed with a playful grin. Leaning back on the sofa, she reached down and unbuttoned the top button of her jeans, asking, “You ready to learn something else?”

In spite of his hardening cock, Ken couldn’t help but feel like he was doing something he shouldn’t. “Look, you seriously don’t have to;”

“I want to,” she said with confidence. “Ken, you are such a sweet, special guy, and I want to show you that. I want to prove to you how lucky a girl I would be to have a guy like you.”

Would be? What’s that supposed to mean?

“I’ve never made love to a virgin, Ken,” she continued. “But I know what I love in bed, and I think I can help you get quite good at this. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but if you’ll allow me, I’d love nothing more than to take your virginity tonight.”

Ken was torn. This woman certainly drove him crazy, but part of him worried this was all an elaborate setup. Women never came on to him like this, let alone one this beautiful! Then again, she hadn’t balked in the slightest in kissing him. Hell, she had even encouraged him to French kiss her. In spite of the fact that he had every reason to be distrusting after Jacqueline’s message, he recognized that she had shown him nothing but kindness and patience. He didn’t believe in destiny or fate, but if there was a moment in which he was supposed to lose his virginity, this had to be it.

“Okay; I want to,” he whispered.

“I’m glad,” she replied with a warm smile.

Fumbling with his belt, he said, “I guess I’d better;”

“There’s plenty of time, Ken,” Gabby reassured him. “If we do this, I want to do it right. I want to show you the proper way to take a girl around the world. That starts with what we were doing earlier, only this time, you can start removing my clothes in the process.”

As Ken leaned in and resumed their kissing, Gabby guided his hands lower and slipped them underneath her sweater. He spent a few moments enjoying the warm sensation of skin-to-skin contact before tugging her sweater up. They separated for a moment so that Gabby could finish peeling her top off, revealing a simple, black silk bra. As they continued making out, Ken reached behind her, trying to decipher the key to unhooking the ever-hated bra.

“Want some advice?” Gabby asked with a slight giggle.

“Sure,” Ken signed, beginning to get frustrated.

“Feel for the crease, then slip one finger under and one finger over. Squeeze together and rub your fingers until it unhooks.”

Concentrating, Ken did as she instructed. The clasp itself was easy to find, and her descriptions were spot on. To his surprise, it only took one unsuccessful attempt before he managed to snap the garment open.

“Impressive,” Gabby marveled.

“Thanks, but that was all you. I’d be lost without your instructions.”

“You’re a natural student; you take direction well. Ready for the next lesson?”

“Oh yeah,” Ken said with anticipation.

“Your kissing skills have grown by leaps and bounds in just a few minutes. Now you should remember that you don’t have to kiss just my lips. My cheeks, my neck, my shoulders; my entire body is your playground. Few things turn a woman on more than a man whose only desire is to worship every inch of her form.”

With that, Gabby shrugged her shoulders and slipped her bra off, revealing her ample D-cup tits to Ken. He was utterly speechless at the sight he now beheld. They were not only large, but quite perky as well. Her tiny pink nipples, already hard from their making out, were the perfect accent to Gabby’s most notable assets. As he drank her in, he felt her guide his hand towards her, reaching him out to touch her tit. It barely fit into his hand, yet it was so soft and warm that it felt like it just belonged there. Taking a deep breath, Ken now reached in with both of his hands, squeezing her tits together and exploring every inch of their surface. Remembering her words from a moment ago, he leaned in once more and began to kiss his way from her lips down to her chest.

“Yes; just like that.” she cooed.

Arriving at the valley of her bosom, he made his way to one side, kissing her tit while also stimulating her nipple with his finger.

“That’s so good, Ken; ooh, you can suck on them too,” she whispered with encouragement.

Ken’s heart leapt at her suggestion, and he moved to take one of her tiny nipples in his mouth. He sucked with eagerness at first, but Gabby soon coaxed him to go slower.

“Careful there; be gentle.”

“Sorry.”

“Quite alright, they’re just a bit sensitive,” she said with a sweet giggle.

Ken spent quite some time lapping at her tits, alternating sides every so often. At first, Gabby advised him on when to change so as not to over stimulate one side or the other. Soon, though, Ken was moving back and forth all on his own, driving her wild with lust in the process. After several minutes of this, she lifted his head up, a wicked grin on her face.

“Ready for the big reveal?” she asked, lowering the zipper of her jeans.

“Uh; uh huh.”

Lifting her hips up, Gabby slipped her jeans over her curvy ass and down her long legs before kicking them off with her boots. She then turned to recline back on the sofa, spreading her legs a tiny bit. The smoldering come hither look she gave Ken was enough to bring any man to his knees.

“Come on, Ken; you’ve got a Christmas present to open.”

Ken’s mouth went dry as he stared at her black thong panties, mesmerized in disbelief by what was about to happen. With trembling hands, he slipped his fingers into her waistband and slid the silky garment off, revealing Gabby’s shaven pussy at last. In that moment, Ken had completely forgotten that he was still wearing all his clothes.

“I just love the way you’re looking at me,” Gabby breathed, breaking his trance. “It’s like you won the lottery or something.”

“I; think I did.”

“So sweet. Now then, time to learn how to really make a woman happy. Most women are at least willing to engage in oral sex, but you always need to give at least as much as you receive. It’s only polite. And there’s no better way to make a woman want to suck your cock; than to eat her pussy without prompting. With that said.”

Gabby now spread her legs wide for him, beckoning him to explore her delectable womanhood. Following a trail she laid with her fingers, Ken began to kiss his way up her leg and inner thigh. After repeating the action on her other leg, he arrived at her soaked pussy, breathing in the musky aroma seeping from within her.

“Spread my lips, Ken,” Gabby whispered.

Using a gentle touch, he did as she asked, gazing deep into her slick tunnel. He soon leaned forward, touching his tongue to the folds of her labia. She tasted different than he had expected, perhaps a bit salty, but nothing unpleasant in Ken’s mind. He continued to taste and tease her lips for a few moments, and she began to squirm and writhe under him in pleasure.

“Oh, yes; that’s just right, Ken; you can move a little higher, too. See that little bump there? That’s my clit. She’s sensitive, but if you pay enough attention to her; something good is bound to happen.”

He tilted his head upwards a bit, running his tongue along her lips as he arrived at her clit. Flicking the nub a couple of times, he was surprised at just how strong Gabby’s reaction was. Ken liked that. She was having the time of her life, and it was all because of him. Feeling a twinge of confidence, he redoubled his efforts and began lapping at her clit again and again, never giving her a chance to rest.

“Yes; yes, that’s fucking incredible!” she cried out.

As Gabby’s hips began to buck, Ken looped his arms around her thighs on instinct, helping her to remain still. He continued his worshipping of her womanhood, savoring every drop of her juices as she squirmed and squealed in delight. Soon, he began to sense that her thrashing was reaching a crescendo and an ultimate plateau. He received almost immediate verbal confirmation of this.

“Holy shit; Fuck that’s awesome! Oh, Ken don’t stop; don’t; stop; please don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop; ah!”

Ken knew in an academic sense that women could achieve powerful orgasms. Still, he had never actually seen it happen, let alone experienced it by his hand, or rather his tongue. Yet lying beneath him was the most beautiful woman he had ever met in his life, and she was becoming even more beautiful by the second as her body erupted in ecstasy. The look of pleasure on her face as her eyes fluttered closed was awe-inspiring. A few final licks to her pussy, and she gently pushed his face away from her crotch.

“That’s quite enough; but oh so wonderful.” she sighed. “You’re a natural, Ken.”

“Thanks. That’s; got to be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Seeing you lose control like that, it was surreal.”

“So sweet,” she said, sitting up straight on the sofa. “For all your supposed awkwardness, you sure know how to pay a girl a compliment.” She leaned forward, planting a long, slow kiss on his lips. As they parted, she whispered, “Ready for your due reward?”

With a slight gasp, he replied, “Oh, hell yes.”

Gabby stood from the sofa, smiling the entire time. Reaching behind the armrest of the sofa, she pulled out a dark blue sleeping bag and began to spread it out on the thick rug in front of the fire.

“It’s a tradition,” she explained, seeing the look of confusion on Ken’s face. “When I was a little girl, I swore I’d catch Santa in the act by sleeping next to the tree. He’d never be able to sneak past me. Well, my parents told me to go for it, but that it wouldn’t work; he’s too good. Sure enough, he had come and gone the next morning. He even left a note next to my pillow that said, ‘Nice try, Gabby. Merry Christmas.’ Ever since then, I’ve slept by the tree every Christmas Eve.”

“Love it,” Ken grinned.

By now, she had finished spreading the sleeping bag out on the floor and affixed a couple of pillows at the head for them. As it was designed for one person, she had opened it completely and laid it out flat, making it large enough for two to lie on. Seeing what she was doing, Ken grabbed a large throw blanket from the sofa to cover up with.

“Why, thank you,” she said. “But don’t you think you’re a bit overdressed?”

“Huh?” Ken had been so entranced with Gabby’s naked body that he’d forgotten that he was still wearing his clothes. “Oh, uh, I guess so.”

“Can I help with that?” she asked with a mischievous grin.

“Sure.”

Gabby sauntered over to him, wrapping him in a warm hug as they stood next to the fireplace. After kissing his lips, she moved to his cheek and neck, just as he had done to her before. As she began to drive him crazy, she slipped her fingers into his tee shirt and pulled it off of him, exposing his bare chest to her. Now with a new playground to explore, Gabby continued from where she left off. She first lingered around his neck and shoulders, then down his chest before finally reaching his stomach. As she knelt before him, she unbuckled his belt and slid his jeans and boxers down to his ankles, freeing his rock hard cock at last.

Ken was not large my most standards, being only about five inches in length at full staff, but to Gabby he was perfect. She had no hesitation as she began to lightly stroke his length in her hand, and soon began to take him in her mouth bit-by-bit. Ken was in blissful agony; not only was he receiving is first blowjob, but he also had to keep from exploding too soon, all while concentrating on standing still. She sucked him for a few seconds more before releasing him.

“If you get close, let me know, okay? I want this inside my pussy, too.”

Ken could only nod in reply. She soon resumed her pleasuring of his member, sucking him with gleeful determination. He had been so good to her tonight; she only wanted to reward his efforts. Slowing her pace, she gazed up at him with her smoldering eyes, her pretty face framed by her long blonde hair. As Ken began to lose himself in her beauty, he also felt a familiar bubbling up in the pit of his stomach. Though he panicked for a moment, he soon had the presence of mind to tap Gabby on the forehead.

“I think you’d better slow down,” he stammered.

Releasing his cock from her mouth with a pop, Gabby grinned and replied, “Good. Because I think it’s time for me to take your virginity.”

After switching off the gas logs, she stretched out on the open sleeping bag and held part of the blanket up, beckoning Ken to slide in with her. He did so with eagerness, though was still nervous as hell; he had no idea what he was doing! Sensing his doubts, Gabby spoke with soft confidence and reassurance.

“Let’s go you on top to start. That way you can control it so you don’t go off too soon. Honestly, though, don’t worry about stamina. You’ve already lasted through one of my blowjobs, which is no small feat, if I do say so myself. You ready?”

“Um, yeah; I think so. But do we need any; protection? I don’t have a condom or anything.”

With a warm smile, she replied, “Don’t ever change, Ken. Sweet, humble, and considerate, that’s what you are. I don’t h

Angel of Mercy: Part 1

Snowden Speaks — Sat, 08 Mar 2025 13:14:00 -0600

Miracles can happen on Christmas Eve.

Based on a post by auguy86, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.

Ken Dix flipped through the TV guide at a moderate pace; “500 channels, and nothing but Christmas specials on.”

Finding nothing but disappointment at every turn. As it was Christmas Eve, every show was a mushy feel-good romp spouting lines about family and goodwill to others. None of that spoke to Ken in the slightest.

“Ken?” a voice came from the kitchen.

“What’s up, Mom?”

“I’ve got my hands full with making everything for dinner tonight, but I’m going to run short on a couple of ingredients,” Helen Dix said, poking her head into the living room. “Can you run to the store real quick for me please?”

“Sure thing,” Ken replied, seeing as he had nothing better to do.

“Great, thank you. I made a list on the counter for you. The store should be open for another hour or two. The main things would be the eggs; I don’t have enough to finish my famous chess pie. If they have tea by the gallon, grab one sweet and one unsweet. The rest are great if you find them, but not essential.”

“Got it,” Ken said as he took the list from the counter.

Heading out to his car, Ken cranked up his Honda Civic and pulled out of the driveway. As he made his way into town, Ken reflected on his current situation. Though he loved his mom, being home for the holidays was always nerve-wracking for him. His hometown of Alpharetta, Georgia was crawling with former high school classmates of his, people he’d just as soon never see again. But up at MIT, he was actually among peers that he could relate to on an intellectual level. Not that he’d made that many friends up there. As a nineteen-year-old freshman, he was still stuck in the same boring math and science classes as everyone else. He couldn’t wait until he could start his health sciences training. Maybe then he could meet some decent people, perhaps of the female variety.

Ken soon arrived in the parking lot of the local Kroger. It was soon obvious that the place was packed with last-minute shoppers, all trying to find that one final ingredient they were missing. Locking his car, Ken sauntered into the store, grabbing a shopping basket along the way. He found the shelves of the store well picked over, striking out on the nonessential items on his mom’s list. Making his way to the drinks aisle, he was pleased to see that the store was keeping the gallon jugs of tea well stocked for the holidays, and picked up a pair.

Ken soon arrived in the refrigerated section of the store. Almost every shelf was empty, but he did manage to find one last carton of six eggs, just what his mom needed. Depositing the carton in his shopping basket, Ken made his way back to the front of the store, checking out in the express lane. He gripped the shopping bags tightly, being careful that the eggs weren’t harmed from the swinging of the bags. Arriving back in the parking lot, he was pleasantly surprised to see one of his former classmates, Jacqueline Brown. As he approached, she saw him coming.

“Ken? Kenneth Dix?”

She was extremely pretty, as was befitting one of the most popular girls in school, and kept her chestnut-brown hair cut just below her jawline. Her soft, warm facial features and bubbly personality belied the sharp intellect hiding underneath. She and Ken had been partners a few times in various subjects, and he had helped craft her entrance essay to the University of Washington. This earned her a full ride scholarship. In spite of her popularity, they had worked well together, and Ken even dared to call her a friend, at least in his own mind. They had never hung out on a social basis; her circle of friends would never have let her live that down. Still, times had changed. They were both out of high school, after all. What could it hurt to ask?

“Jacqueline? Wow, I never thought I’d see you back here. Thought you escaped to cooler climates?”

“Yeah, Seattle is nice, but nothing beats Christmas at home,” she replied, adjusting her UW sweatshirt. “You back for the same reason?”

“Uh huh. Mom pretty much insisted. She won’t settle for anything less than a full family gathering on Christmas Eve. I’m just grabbing a few last things for her. But yeah, it’s great seeing you again. You, uh, you look good.”

“Um; thanks,” she replied with hesitation.

“I’m, uh, gonna be home for a couple of weeks. Would you want to, I don’t know, hang out sometime? Maybe grab a bite to eat? My treat.”

“Well, Ken, that’s sweet of you to ask.” she said almost to herself. As she paused, her eyes suddenly lit up as if she had gotten an idea. “Alright! Here, let me give you my number.” She scribbled a series of digits down on a scrap piece of paper, writing her name next to them. “I’ll, um, talk to you later, I guess?”

“Sounds great!”

Ken couldn’t believe it; he had actually done it! He had asked out the prettiest girl he had ever known! Moreover, she had given him her number! Things were definitely looking up.

“Dick!” a voice behind them yelled.

Ken turned, immediately recognizing Jason Brown, Jacqueline’s fraternal twin brother, along with his two flunkies, Brian and Barrett Sullivan. Jason had been the star quarterback at his high school, and the Sullivan boys were his best offensive linemen. They often served as his muscle off the football field, as well. Ken was intimately familiar with these three, as they had made it their mission in high school to make his life a living hell. Being stuffed in lockers, having his wallet stolen, all were commonplace with them. The three approached, attempting to appear imposing, which they were from the perspective of the ever-scrawny Ken.

“I’ve got nothing to say to you guys,” Ken muttered as they approached.

“Well I’ve got something to say to you, Mr. Kenny Dick,” Jason growled.

“Just shut up and leave me alone,” Ken replied, his blood boiling at the use of Jason’s longtime nickname for him.

“No! You shut the fuck up and listen!” Jason said, grabbing Ken by the collar of his tee-shirt and flinging him against his car. In the process, Ken dropped his shopping bags, the jugs of tea landing directly on the egg carton.

“Jason! Stop it!” Jacqueline protested.

Undeterred, Jason threatened. “Listen fuck-wad, you stay the hell away from my sister!”

“She’s an adult, dickhead! She can have anyone she wants as a friend!” Ken protested.

“You don’t belong on the same Planet as her! You’re nothing’! A pathetic sack of guts your dumbass mother decided to give a name to! Know what? Just do us all a favor and drop dead!”

Enraged at the insult to his mom, Ken swung a wild haymaker at his assailant, but Jason was more than ready, pinning Ken’s arm back against his car. Jason then delivered a crushing punch to Ken’s gut, dropping him down to his knees. Before leaving, Jason knelt down next to his gasping victim.

“Next time, I won’t be so nice. Next time; I might just kill you myself. See ya around. Dick.” Turning to his sister, Jason said, “Come on, time to go home.”

Jacqueline looked down at the pitiful form of Ken before muttering, “Sorry, Ken.”

The trio of boys sauntered off across the parking lot, laughing and high-fiving at their antics. Jacqueline followed right behind them. Ken picked himself up and inspected his groceries, discovering the crushed eggs in his bag. Swearing and cursing, he grabbed the misshapen carton and went to throw it in a nearby trash can.

“No chess pie tonight.”

As Ken returned to his car and began his drive home, Jason and his flunkies watched on from his car, still pleased with their efforts.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Jacqueline said in a lecturing tone.

Jason turned to face his sister. “I do what I gotta do, Jacqueline. That fuck-wad has no business getting friendly with you. He needs to learn his place.”

“Be that as it may, I can take care of myself,” she replied firmly.

“Take care of yourself? Wait; you didn’t?”

“I did. Jason, someday you’ll learn that there are more subtle and effective ways to ward off undesirables. Trust me, Ken won’t bother me ever again.”

Back at Home.

Upon arriving back home, Ken couldn’t bring himself to tell his mom about the incident with the eggs. He instead told her that the store had run out altogether. She had spent many sleepless nights in the past worrying about the constant bullying her son was subjected to in school. Ken didn’t want to give her anything else to worry about. By this time, has uncles had started arriving, and the living room was soon filled with the sounds of football games. In Ken’s mind, these were no more thought provoking that the mindless Christmas specials he had found earlier. Ken went up to his room to take a hot shower, as well as get some alone time in the process. As he stripped down, he saw a bruise beginning to form on his stomach from Jason’s punch. He winced in pain as he touched the tender skin.

Shit; that’s not going away for a while.

Ken took some Tylenol for the pain before stepping into the shower. The hot water helped relax his body, and the steam gradually built up, clearing his mind a bit. He finished after a while and, after making sure his door was shut, flopped facedown onto his bed. After laying there for around an hour or so, his mom finally called him down to rejoin the family for dinner.

Taking his seat at the table, Ken glanced around the room at his various family members. His mom had two older brothers, Lee and Stan. Though Lee was tall and still relatively youthful looking at forty-five, Stan was shorter and beginning to bald as he approached fifty. Still, both of them had one notable thing in common as far as Ken was concerned: they were both still jocks at heart. Ken had never known his father; it had always just been him and his mom. He could tell that his uncles tried to be male role models for him, but their efforts were usually ill-conceived attempts to “man him up.” Never once did they understand his introverted tendencies, and always tried to get him to be more of a people person. After a while, Ken stopped paying their advice any attention.

It was striking to Ken how similar Lee and Stan’s families were. They had both married beautiful, blonde cheerleaders, and now both had sixteen-year-old daughters, both of whom were among the most popular girls in school. It all sickened Ken; they were just perpetuating the stereotype of pretty and popular being the be-all, end-all in life. As the family ate, Ken remained silent for the most part. The adults were engrossed in discussions about their jobs, and the two daughters were giggling and playing on their phones the entire time. None of this was relevant to Ken.

“You know, I saw something interesting today,” Lee said as dessert was being brought out. “I was at Kroger filling up my car, and saw you in the main parking lot, Ken. Looked like you were, uh, having some words with a few guys out there.”

Shit! He saw that?

Not wanting to worry his mom, Ken replied, “It; it was nothing.”

“Nothing, eh? Is that why that punk punched you in the gut?”

With a worried look on her face, Helen asked, “Ken, sweetie, what is he talking about?” She walked around the table to Ken’s seat and lifted up his shirt, seeing the bruise on his abdomen. “Was it that Jason boy again?”

“Mom, just let it go.”

“No! Ken, you know I worry about you!”

“You worry about Me? I think you need to worry more about your brother!” Ken shouted, his anger exploding at last. “Right, Uncle Lee? Come on, you see your own nephew being ganged up on in a parking lot, yet you do nothing to help him out?!”

“A man’s gotta learn to fight his own battles,” Lee replied in a calm voice.

“No. You want to know what a man does? A man sticks up for his Family! No. Matter. What! You stood there and watched your own nephew get beaten up. That says a hell of a lot more about you than it does me. And if that’s family; I don’t want any part of this one.”

Without a word, Ken stood and left the dining room. He then grabbed his MIT hoodie and headed for the front door. As he was about to get into his car and drive off, he saw to his frustration that his uncles’ cars were parked in the driveway behind him, blocking him in. Cursing under his breath, he prepared to leave on foot.

“Ken! Come back inside, please!” Helen called after him, running down the driveway.

“No. I’ve got to go out; clear my head.”

“Ken, it’s Christmas Eve. Please, come be with your family.”

“Mom, aside from you, not a single person in that house feels like family to me,” Ken replied coldly. “I’ll; I’ll call you after while.”

Ken walked off into the cold Georgia night, not knowing for sure where to go or what to do. Nobody else was out, as they were all at home with their families. Remembering the square in historic downtown Alpharetta, he decided to head in that direction. Maybe the quiet walk would do him some good.

Arriving in the town square, Ken walked along the sidewalks for a bit, peering into the darkened windows of the various shops and restaurants. Everything looked so different to him with everyone gone for the day; it all seemed so peaceful. As he continued to walk, he soon saw City Hall in the distance. In front of the building was a large green space, which was teeming with a surprising amount of activity for it being Christmas Eve. Ken moved closer, now spying a large gathering of people sitting on picnic blankets, all bundled up in coats and hats. Ahead of them, a large screen projected the classic film, It’s a Wonderful Life.

Though Ken was never into the Christmas cheer, as it were, he felt strangely drawn to watch a few minutes of the film from a distance. He soon began to regret that decision, as the movie had reached the point where George Baily had an arrest warrant out for him, lashing out at his family in anger. Watching him get drunk and punched in a bar fight, Ken began to feel sick with anger. Despite all his efforts to help better the world around him, the universe conspired against George Baily; just as it seemed to be conspiring against Ken. Unable to watch a moment more, he turned and walked into the nearby park.

Again alone with his thoughts, Ken sat on a bench near the fountain in the center of the park. He contemplated many things, as he often did in solitude. He thought about his piss poor excuse for a family, intent on changing him into what they say he should be. If only they could love him as he is. He thought about Jason Brown, a perpetual asshole that managed to get all the beautiful women his heart desired. If only the universe would serve up his just desserts, rather than conspiring against Ken. Sighing in frustration, he stuffed his freezing hands into his jeans pockets.

Jacqueline!

Feeling the scrap of paper still in his pocket, Ken suddenly felt a glimmer of hope in an otherwise dreary day. He needed something, anything to lift his spirits, and hearing her kind, sweet voice might just do it. Hell, he didn’t even care anymore if she was interested in him in a romantic sense; he just needed someone to listen and understand him. Digging out his phone, he dialed the number. After a single ring, a message began to play, seeming to be read by a game show host.

“Congratulation

The Auburn Pokè Girl: Part 3.

Snowden Speaks — Thu, 06 Mar 2025 20:14:00 -0600

Looking for more game-play.
Based on a post by a u guy86, in 3 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.

The entire walk home, Ashley was smiling like a little girl on Christmas morning, holding Michael’s arm and walking as close to him as she could. Michael, on the other hand, was a nervous wreck. Antonio’s advice for him to be his normal dorky self had worked, but had it worked too well? Questions began to race through his mind. What if she invited him in? What if she invited him to bed with her? How would she react when he told her of his lack of experience? If she did want to sleep with him, he didn’t dare try to hide the fact that he was a virgin; no way would that end well. Sighing mentally, he decided he’d just have to play it by ear and hope for the best.

“I… had such a great time with you,” Michael said as they approached her door.

“Me too,” Ashley agreed. “And… well, it’s still kinda early.”

“Uh… y-yeah?”

Throwing caution to the wind, Ashley leaned forward and planted a long and sensuous kiss on Michael’s lips. By the end of it, her tongue had found his for the first time, to both of their delights.

“Why don’t you come in and stay a while?” she asked as they parted.

“But… wouldn’t Liz mind?”

“Liz already told me she’ll be gone ‘til tomorrow. We have the place to ourselves.” Sensing his hesitation, she continued, “Michael, believe me when I say that I swore at the start of the night this wouldn’t happen. No matter how well tonight went… I had no intention of inviting you in after one date. Yet, here we are, and I don’t want the night to end. No pressure, no expectations, I just… I want to spend more time with you. I mean, it is Valentine’s Day, after all, and I do consider you my Valentine.”

“Now who’s the cheesy one?” Michael laughed. “I’d love to spend more time with you tonight, but only if you’re sure.”

Another peck on the lips, and Ashley said, “Positive.”

Taking Michael’s hand, Ashley practically dragged him into the apartment and locked the deadbolt behind her. She then took Michael’s suit jacket from him, hanging it on the back of a chair at the breakfast nook. Before long, she had kicked off her shoes and plopped down on the sofa.

Smack-talking with a hot babe gamer.
Based on a post by a u guy86, in 3 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.

“Dude, you won’t believe what happened today,” Michael called out as he arrived back at his apartment.

“What’s up?” Antonio asked from the sofa.

“You know the girl from the basketball games?”

“That hot little trainer? Yeah?”
“She’s a member of the A U Pokémon League!”

“Are you serious?! Wha… what happened? Did you talk to her?” he asked.

“Yeah, we played a couple of games. She’s good; maybe the best I’ve ever played against,” Michael replied.

“That’s all? You just… played video games?” Antonio wondered, cocking his eyebrow.

“I, uh, might have also gotten her to agree to come to the Valentine’s Day dance with me,” Michael admitted.

“That’s what I’m talking’ about!” Antonio cheered, fist-bumping Michael. “You got a big day tomorrow. You ready for this?”
“To be honest… no, I’m not.”

“Whatchya mean?”
“Dude, I’ve never been on a real date before, let alone had an actual girlfriend!” Michael replied. “I don’t know the first thing about women!”

Grinning, Antonio said, “Don’t you worry; I got your back.”

“Yeah, says my gay roommate,” Michael teased.

“Not cool, dude. Here I am, trying to help you out, and you gotta go and question my sexuality!” Antonio fired back with a laugh. “But in all seriousness, if you doubt which way I swing… you could always ask Allison Smallwood.”

“You and Allison Smallwood?”

“You bet your ass! We’ll be at the dance tomorrow.”

“Lucky bastard…” Michael grumbled.

“Hey, I’ve seen that trainer you’ve been pining over. You ain’t got nothing’ to be jealous of! Her name’s Ashley, right?”

“Yeah, but how’d you know?”

“Allison told me,” Antonio said. “I was trying’ to gather information in case you needed a stronger shove to chat her up.”

“I take it back. You’re not a lucky bastard, you’re a sneaky bastard!”

“Damn straight! Now, let’s get you ready for your big date. Take a seat, my man.” As Michael plopped down in the chair across from him, Antonio continued, “Now, the first rule to remember is that she’s in charge. Anything she says ‘no’ to or isn’t comfortable with, that’s what goes. Understand?”

“Easy enough.”
“Good. But remember, even though she’s in charge, she’ll still want you to take the lead sometimes. The most attractive thing to most women is confidence. Not cockiness, but confidence.”
“Knew there was a catch,” Michael sighed.

“Don’t do that, man. That’s exactly what I’m talking’ about. The minute you get down on yourself just ‘cause you think you’re not good enough, that’s when the girl will pick up on it. As cliché as it sounds, you have to just be you. You don’t want to go too over the top with your personality, or she’ll think you’re compensating for something, but you don’t wanna stifle your personality either, or she won’t get to know the real you. Worst case, she’ll think you don’t like her. But if you just act like you and be confident in that, everything else will fall into place. Trust me.”

“I’m assuming I need to open doors and everything like that?”

“Definitely start out that way, yeah,” Antonio answered. “Now, it’s entirely possible she may not like that, particularly if she’s strong and independent. If she reacts negatively, don’t panic. Just explain that you were taught to do those things as a sign of respect and good manners. That ought to be enough, but if she’s still not keen on it, don’t force the issue.”

“Ok, but… what if she wants me to hold her hand or… kiss her? How am I supposed to know and not fuck it up?”
“As far as holding her hand, it’s a dance. That means you two will be in close proximity all night; handholding is gonna happen on its own, so don’t stress over it. Now, as for kissing, you have to read the signs.”

“The signs?” Michael asked.

“Damn, ain’t you ever seen Hitch? Will Smith wrote the book on reading signs!”

“Dude, you know I can’t stand romantic comedies!” Michael laughed.

“With your luck, Ashley will feel the same way,” Antonio chuckled. “Anyway, the signs. If she’s smiling and maybe laughing at everything you two do together, that’s a sign she’s into you. If she finds any excuse in the world to touch you or take your arm, that’s a sign she’s into you. If you two find yourselves alone and she’s in no hurry to go back to where there’s more people, that’s a sign she’s into you. If you’re at her door and she fumbling with her keys, in no hurry to let the date end, that’s a sign she’s into you. And finally, if there’s a long silence where she maintains eye contact with you the whole time, that’s a full on signal she probably wants you to kiss her.”

“Probably?”
“Yeah, probably. There’s never any guarantee, especially when it comes to the fairer sex. The first kiss is always built on taking a chance. Keep in mind, the chance may not come tomorrow night, and that’s ok. That doesn’t mean she’s not into you, it may just mean she plays things close to the vest.”

“Fair enough. But what do I do if I get the signal? Just kiss her?”

“Naw, dude. You gotta use the 90/10 rule.”

“90/10 rule?”

Antonio sighed. “Man, this would be so much easier if you had seen Hitch. The 90/10 rule is simple: you have to go 90% of the way towards your first kiss with her, but make her come the last 10%. For example, imagine that long silence where she maintains eye contact the whole time. You maintain eye contact, too. That’s 20%. You smile, maybe laugh. That’s 20%. You put your hand on her arm. That’s 20%. You start to lean in closer. That’s 20%. Your faces are almost touching, and you stop. That’s 10%. She’s got to come the last 10%. The point of all that is to make your intentions clear while still giving her plenty of opportunity to pull back if she wants, and if she does, that’s ok.”

“Easy for you to say…”

“Again, stop that. Some gals play things conservatively to start with on account of being burned in the past. Nothing’ wrong with that, you just have to show that you’re trustworthy before she starts to open up. It certainly doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you if that were to happen.”

“Guess that’s true.”

“Now, for the final piece of the puzzle. Whatchya gonna wear tomorrow?”

Michael’s face twisted in panic. “I have no fucking clue!” he realized.

“No sweat! You’re looking at a master of the threads,” Antonio boasted. “You got a suit?”

“Just a black one I use for interviews and presentations.”

“Lemme see.”

Dressed to kill.
Michael led the way into his closet and pulled out his black suit and white dress shirt. Antonio looked them over for a moment before tossing them on the bed.

“This’ll work. Got a tie?” he asked Michael.

“Yeah,” Michael replied, pulling out a striped red and white tie.

Antonio snorted a bit. “Good enough for a job interview, but not even close for a Valentine’s Day date.”

“Ok, what about a black tie?”

“A black tie with a black suit?! You gonna look like a damn Mormon, man! Put the suit on; I’ll be right back.” Antonio returned a couple minutes later with a few of his own neckties in hand. “The black suit and white shirt is a staple of any man’s wardrobe because of its incredible versatility. The tie is the most crucial aspect of this versatility. It’s the accent that allows the suit to send any message you want it to.”

“You are so obsessed,” Michael chuckled.

“I’ll choose to ignore your continued condescension,” Antonio shot back. Holding up a pale orange tie to Michael’s neck, he shook his head, saying, “Nah, you’re definitely not a pastels kind of guy. Whatchya think of this one?”

Examining the wine colored tie with a starburst pattern, Michael replied, “Too loud for my tastes.”

“No problem. Let’s see… ah ha! This is it!” Antonio held up a solid royal blue tie to Michael’s neck.

“Hmm… not bad,” Michael admitted.

“Not bad? Dude, this one is perfect for you! Goes great with your skin tone and the suit color, plus it sends the right message: confidence. It’s a strong color, but the lack of pattern makes sure it’s not too loud or trendy. It’s classic, just like you, my man. Here, put it on.”

As Michael fumbled a bit in front of his floor mirror, he asked, “What knot do you think I should use? Half Windsor?”
“Nah, a full Windsor is almost always best,” Antonio replied. “Symmetrical and confident, but not too over the top. A half Windsor can come off as sloppy.”

Michael took a few seconds to remember the steps for a full Windsor in his head before tying the knot around his neck. When he was finished, he had to admit he was impressed with the final product.

“Damn… I’d do me.”

“And who knows? Ashley may feel the same way,” Antonio grinned.

Michael took several deep breaths as he ascended the stairs in Ashley’s apartment building. Antonio had done everything he could think of to make sure he was prepared yesterday, but Michael was still a nervous wreck. There was something special about this girl, and he did not want to screw it up. With a trembling hand, he reached forward and knocked on the door to apartment 2B.

“Yes?” came a voice from the other side.

“I’m Michael Goldman, here to pick up Ashley.”

“That’s right! Hold on a sec.”

A moment later, the door swung open, revealing a slim redhead with a pixie haircut. Dressed in a tank top and gym shorts, she had a hint of makeup on that seemed to indicate she was getting ready for Valentine’s Day, too.

“Hey! I’m Liz, Ashley’s roommate,” she said, extending her hand with a bubbly smile.

“Michael. Nice to meet you,” he replied, shaking her hand.

“Make yourself comfortable; Ashley should be ready in a little bit,” Liz said.

“No problem. Take your time.”

Liz adjourned to one of the back bedrooms to check on Ashley, finding her seated in front of the vanity. Her hair had been dried after her shower, but she still wore a towel wrapped around her body. She seemed lost and befuddled as she perused her makeup selection.

“Your guy’s here,” Liz giggled. “He’s cute! I’d totally be all over him… ya know, if I weren’t a lesbian.”

“Hands off, he’s mine!” Ashley laughed.

“You ok? You look lost.”

“Yeah, I just have no idea what to use. I want to make the right impression.”

“May I?” Taking a seat next to Ashley on the bench, Liz continued, “To be honest, you don’t need much. The point of makeup is to accentuate your best features, but much more than that just starts to look clownish. Here, a little bit of eyeliner… there, that’s perfect. Just add a touch of lip gloss and you’re good!”

“That’s it? What if he’s not impressed?” Ashley worried.

“Jesus, I’ve never seen you this worried about a date! He must have really gotten to you yesterday,” Liz giggled. “Don’t worry; if he’s the kind of guy I suspect he is, then he’ll enjoy every moment with you no matter how much makeup you use. Seriously, he gonna be speechless, girl.”

“If you say so. Thanks for letting me borrow your dress, by the way. Lord knows I don’t have anything to wear for something like this.”

“My pleasure! Gay or straight, I’m still a girl who likes wearing pretty things!”

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were just as bad as all those sorostitutes,” Ashley deadpanned.

Hugging her friend, Liz said, “Oh, I won’t be home ‘til after lunch tomorrow, so you two can have the place to yourselves.”

“Liz! I just met the guy yesterday! I have no intention of sleeping with him!”

“I know, but I don’t want the lack of somewhere private to hamper your date tonight. Should the opportunity present itself, you two have somewhere to come after the dance, that’s all. No pressure.”

Rolling her eyes, Ashley realized her roommate was only trying to be considerate and helpful. “Thanks.”

“Welcome. All right, you finish getting ready. There’s a cutie outside waiting on you!” Liz replied, bouncing up to her feet.

Michael fidgeted on the sofa, nervous as all hell as he waited for Ashley. He had expected to wait like this; Antonio made sure of that. Still, talking about the wait and experiencing it are two completely diffe

The Auburn Pokè Girl: Part 1.

Snowden Speaks — Sun, 02 Mar 2025 20:11:00 -0600

A pair of lonely gamers overcome their fears and preconceived notions on Valentine's Day.
Based on a post by a u guy86, in 3 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.

Gaming for Love.
“And Smallwood drains it for three!”

Click click click. The digital SLR was zoomed in on the guard at the other end of the court. The $6000 zoom lens made Michael’s photo-journalism look world-class.

Michael Goldman scanned the Auburn Basketball Arena, always looking for the perfect shot for the school newspaper, The Plainsman.
Allison Smallwood, the star point guard of the women’s basketball team, always made for an excellent target. Not only was she a fantastic athlete, but she was also a pretty blonde with a dazzling smile.
But sometimes a particular fan in the stands caught in a moment of emotional fervor, was just the touch to give the readers a full sense of the game experience.
The drama of heated shouting, or the agony of an athlete rolling on the hardwood, holding a knee which just bent in an unnatural angle. That was what really riveted the subscribers’ attention.

“Foul on Georgia, and Smallwood steps to the free throw line!”

Click. Click.

As he snapped a few more shots, Michael couldn’t help but smile. Even as socially awkward as he was, he seemed to thrive whenever he was on the job. While behind the camera, he was able to see the world around him not as the annoying bunch of people he had to deal with, but as a collection of models waiting for him to capture the perfect moment. Still, it’d be nice to have a sweet girl to go home to after work, but Michael wasn’t holding out much hope. Most girls weren’t attracted to the stereotypical Jewish kid: scrawny with curly black hair, pale skin complexion, and a bit of a large nose. As much as Michael tried to downplay the cliché, there really was no escaping it.

A sudden thud from the court snapped Michael out of his daydream, and he saw one of the other girls down on the floor. A quick glance at his roster sheet told him it was Desiree Bonner, the starting forward. As he went to work with his camera, he was relieved to see that her injuries didn’t look too serious. Soon, she was being tended to by one of the trainers.

“There she is,” Michael breathed.

Michael still had no idea who she was, but the student trainer that worked with the women’s basketball team was nothing short of a knockout. She was maybe 5’5” with light strawberry blonde hair, and her sharp eyes and wry smile seemed to indicate that she had a keen intellect to go with her stunning good looks. As she worked on Desiree, Michael couldn’t help but snap a few shots of the two of them, making sure that both the trainer and player were in focus. What he would give for a shot with her. Soon, the buzzer interrupted his fantasies, forcing him back to reality.

“Well, back to work…”

So it went for the rest of the game. No further injuries occurred for Auburn, so Michael didn’t get any further glimpses of the little goddess that tended to the players. The Lady Tigers kept the game close, but Georgia was just the better team in the end, and the Bulldogs ended up winning 67-62. This didn’t come as a huge surprise to Michael. Throughout the season, the team had proved to be talented but young, with Smallwood being the only real veteran on the team. Considering that she was only a sophomore, the team had nowhere to go but up in the coming seasons.

After a final series of shots as the teams shook hands, Michael texted his boss up in the press box. The reply thanked Michael for his hard work and instructed him to take the rest of the night off; his boss would handle photography at the postgame press conference. This suited Michael just fine, as he had gotten more than enough of people for the day. After packing up his camera gear, he headed out to his bike to begin the trek back to his apartment.

A Chiding roommate.

As he reclined on the sofa in his living room, Michael grabbed his Nintendo 3DS and powered up his copy of Pokémon Sun, intending to waste away the rest of the evening with some online battles. On the other side of the room stood Antonio, Michael’s roommate. He was a tall drink of water by any standard, and his dark chocolate skin and shaved head gave him quite a striking appearance. Still, he was as nerdy as Michael was, perhaps even more so, and tried to communicate this with his black horn-rimmed glasses. Of course, with his height and good looks, that only served to make him even more irresistible to the opposite sex. As was his usual Thursday evening routine, he stood with iron in hand, pressing his shirts for the coming weekend, no doubt for a Valentine’s Day date of some sort.

“Dammit,” Michael muttered.

“What’s wrong, man?” Antonio asked.

“Another rage quitter. That’s three in a row!”

“You getting’ that good?” Antonio wondered with a laugh.

“No, the level of competition has definitely gone down in the last few months. Not sure what’s happening. Still, I can’t help it that I’m kicking so much ass!”

“Sounds like you need some stronger competition.”

“Yeah, but I know you don’t play Pokémon anymore.”

“True. I ain’t got the time to put in. But maybe you ought to consider joining the local League?”

“League? I thought you said the president of the A U Pokémon League was a total asshole?” Michael replied.

“He is, but it’s gonna be your best bet for some decent people to play against. Besides, none of them will rage quit on you; it’s against their rules. If they do, they get put on probation. Too many times, and they’re kicked out.”

“Hmm… maybe so. When’s the next meeting?”

“Tomorrow, actually. They meet at the GameStop on University Parkway.”

“Thanks, I’ll check it out.” Hearing the steam from Antonio’s iron, Michael remarked, “Dude, you’re fucking obsessed with clothes. It’s a little disturbing.”

“What can I say? The ladies love a man wearing a freshly pressed shirt!”

“Yeah, right. I’d bet you’re in the closet. Great cover, by the way,” Michael snorted.

“Hey, that hurts,” Antonio whined, feigning a heart attack. “I can’t help it if I’m that much better than you with the women, just like you can’t help it you’re so much better than those idiots online!”

“Yeah, but you could share,” Michael shot back with a grin.

“Sorry, but Antonio don’t kiss and tell,” he replied with a toothy grin. After a moment of silence, he continued, “You see that little hottie at the basketball game again?”

“Yeah, she was there.”

“You should talk to her, man! I bet you two would hit it off real good!”

“Are you nuts?! She’s so far out of my league, I bet she doesn’t even know I exist!” Michael laughed.

“Dude, stop selling’ yourself short. You’re a good guy with some excellent job prospects after you graduate next year. What girl wouldn’t be all over that? And if a girl isn’t all over that, you don’t want her anyway!”

“Easy for you to say, Mr. Ladies’ Geek.”
“Trust me, just chat her up next time you see her. I don’t care when or where it is, introduce yourself and see what happens. You might even be able to get her to go with you to the Valentine’s Day dance in the student union building.”

“No point; I bet she’s got a boyfriend.”

“Don’t hurt to ask, does it?”

“Whatever…”

The next afternoon, Michael arrived at the GameStop on the outskirts of campus. For some odd reason, he felt nervous. He reasoned it was likely just because of a new and unknown situation; once he tried this group out, he had little doubt he’d like it. As he walked in to the shop, he was pleasantly surprised to see at least a dozen people there, all seated at tables. A couple of them were engrossed in discussions or trading card games, but the majority had their 3DS systems out and ready. After a moment, an overweight man with long greasy hair greeted Michael.

“What’s up? You here for the League?”
“Uh, yeah. Thought I’d give it a shot, see what it’s all about,” Michael replied.

“Cool. I’m Eric, the Almighty President of the A U Pokémon League,” the man said with pride. “That’s an official title, by the way.”

“Good to meet you,” Michael answered, hiding his immediate dislike for the man. “Name’s Michael.”
“Lemme show ya around. The rules here are pretty simple,” Eric said, pointing to a poster on the wall.

1. The terms of any battle or trade must be discussed and agreed upon by all parties beforehand.
2. If terms are not discussed, all battles are assumed to take place under standard Overuse (O U) rules in the case of singles or video game championships (VGC) rules for doubles.
3. Any and all disputes will be settled by the Almighty President of the A U Pokémon League.
4. Absolutely no rage quitting; either forfeit or see the battle through to the end. The first offense will result in a warning, second offense will be probation and temporary suspension, and the third offense will result in the player being banned from the League.
5. The Almighty President of the A U Pokémon League may be challenged for leadership at any time by any law-abiding member.
6. These rules may be amended as the Almighty President sees fit, but rules 5 and 6 may not be changed.

“Huh… I like rule four,” Michael remarked. “That’s what brought me here.”

“You’re not alone in that,” Eric replied. “Rage quitting is a huge problem with online gaming, and probably more so with Pokémon than with many other games. In Call of Duty, for instance, a single rage quitter often goes unnoticed. If he’s doing that bad, neither team is likely to miss him. But Pokémon is always one-on-one, so any rage quit ends the match altogether.”

“At least Nintendo is trying to do something about it lately, forcing rage quitters to stay offline for a while before they can play again.”

“Only in ranked battles,” Eric corrected him. “In free battles, there’s nothing stopping them. Anyway, looks like everyone’s paired up for now, but feel free to watch. If anything opens up, you can jump in.”

“What about her?” Michael asked, seeing a girl sitting alone at a table in the far corner of the shop.

“Dude, you don’t want to play her,” Eric said, the disgust apparent in his voice.

“Why not?”
“She cheats. Nobody can figure out how, of course, so we can’t kick her out. But nobody can come close to beating her, and as good as the guys that come here are, she has to be cheating.”

Not believing Eric for one second, Michael replied, “I’ll take my chances.”

“Whatever, dude. Your funeral.”

Despite his promise to “show Michael around,” Eric returned to his seat and began a battle with another member. Michael stared for a moment, watching the pretty brunette with thick glasses seated next to Eric. The way she was hanging on his every move, they had to be an item. Still, Michael could have sworn he saw something in her eyes. It could have been sadness, but it could also have been longing. Either way, Michael decided he wanted as little to do with Eric as possible; a part of him wished he had listened to Antonio. Still, the competition was bound to be better here than online. Turning towards the lone table in the back corner, Michael froze as he realized something.

“Holy shit… it’s her!” he muttered to himself.

Sitting alone at the table was the same girl from the basketball games. Her strawberry blonde hair was unmistakable, even if it was held up by a hair clip rather than in a ponytail. Now that he had his best look ever at this girl, Michael had to concentrate to keep from embarrassing himself with a public erection. Her face was the cutest thing he had ever seen, impish with a slightly rounded tip to her nose. On one side of her nose, he could see a piercing with a tiny faux diamond stud in it. Her front bangs were quite long and side swept over her right eye for a sultry look, even if that wasn’t what she was going for. She wore a black t-shirt with a picture of a very unhappy Princess Peach saying, “Rescue this.” Michael shook his head in disbelief. All this time he had thought this mystery girl a jock, but now, he couldn’t see her as anything other than what she apparently was: a gamer girl. Collecting his courage, he walked over to the open seat across from her.

“If you think I’m gonna fuck you just ‘cause

My Sheep Girl: Part 3

Snowden Speaks — Sat, 01 Mar 2025 07:00:00 -0600

Sorting things out with my parents.
Based on a post by SquattingEagle. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.

Now that morning had arrived, it was finally time to learn who this unknown blonde goddess really was.

The early morning sun shone in through the many cracks and holes in the weathered planks that made up the roof and siding of the dusty old barn, bathing everything inside in a dim, yellowish light. The girl was still sleeping peacefully, with her head on my shoulder and her arm draped around my chest, her breathing regular and deep and slow. Because of how she was lying, I still couldn’t see much of her face, and what I could see was largely obscured by the curly wisps of blonde hair.

It was still very early in the morning, and the world was still quiet and asleep. I lay awake in the hay for some time, listening to her breathe and enjoy the feeling of her warm, naked body against mine. As I studied the girl’s features, I realized she was not a lamb anymore. The thick woolen sweater lay discarded in the hay behind her, and of course she’d already given me her sheep’s tail after our first meeting. During the night, her headband with the lamb ears had come off, and even the black make-up had rubbed off her nose and upper lip. Like in the legend, my true love had transformed from a sheep back into a real girl.

The horse blanket lay loosely draped over our bodies, hiding her from my sight. Though I didn’t want to wake her up, I couldn’t resist taking a little peek underneath the blanket. I carefully lifted our covering and got my first view of her gorgeous young body. I wasn’t disappointed. She had the physique of a swimmer, or maybe a distance-runner. Lean, toned and extremely well proportioned. She had a small but curvy bottom with a cute pair of dimples at the base of her spine and a slim waist that gave her a pleasing hour-glass figure. I could see only part of her breasts, but I liked what I saw. The apple-sized breasts were nothing short of perfection, as I had always known they would be. They were pale, with small reddish-pink nipples that pointed slightly upward and just begged to be kissed and nibbled on

I vividly remembered how soft the smooth skin of her creamy globes had felt underneath my hands and the way her little nipples had stiffened between my lips. My cock also remembered, and was growing once again. My balls had replenished their supply of cum and my body was getting ready to have sex with the girl once more.

But, as much as I wanted to crawl between those well-toned legs and renew a few of last night’s memories, I simply couldn’t do it; my love was sleeping too lovely. I consoled myself with the knowledge that I would have all day and maybe the rest of my life to kiss and admire her. I draped the blanket back over her shoulders and gave her a kiss on her head.

With every minute that I lay there, the need to know who the girl in my arms was became stronger. I didn’t mind having to wait until she woke up to hear my love’s name, but I could not stand another moment without knowing what her face looked like. I carefully lifted her arm off my chest and wiped the curly strands from her face. The girl mumbled softly in her sleep and tilted her head a little back in reaction to my soft touch. As I lay eyes on the girl’s angelic face, my feeling of happiness turned into sheer terror. The nameless goddess I had met and made passionate love with in the dark, the girl I assumed to be my one true love, was none other than my own little sister Lizzy.

I had committed incest with my little sister! And what was perhaps even worse, I had enjoyed it immensely.

It was unreal. I didn’t even know my younger sister was going to take part in sheep-shaggin’ this year. Sure, Lizzy was old enough, but she never seemed to show any interest in boys. She always seemed to enjoy spending her evenings at home and reading her books better than going out and meet people. Every once in a while, her friends pressured her into going on a date with someone, but those dates never progressed into something more, and as far as I knew, she was still a virgin. Until tonight, that is.

Silently I cursed my luck. Not merely because I had shagged a sheep that turned out to be my sister, but mostly because I knew I had hopelessly fallen in love with her. Even now, I longed to kiss her again, to show her my love and feel loved in return. I was being tormented by the conflicting feelings inside me. Never had I met someone that made me feel like I did when I first kissed Lizzy, and never had I enjoyed making love with someone half as much as with my little sister. Sex with her was not merely physical; we had connected in a way I had never known before. Making Lizzy happy and giving her pleasure was the best feeling I ever had, better even that the carnal sensation of making love with her.

Yet, she was my little sister, and that made everything I wanted impossible. The things we had done when we were strangers in the dark were bad enough, willfully doing it with my sister would be; immoral.

Lizzy was still sleeping peacefully, unaware of the unspeakable things we had done during the night. Looking at her, it wasn’t difficult to see why I had not recognized my sister in the darkness. She had left her thick-rimmed glasses at home, bleached her hair and used mom's curling iron to give her a perm like a sheep's coat. I had to admit, the result was absolutely stunning. Gone was the little bookworm and in her place was now a sexy blonde knockout, delicately beautiful, but with a killer body. Nevertheless, though Lizzy may have looked like a completely different girl, I had to accept that she still was, and always would be, my little sister. Nothing could ever change that.

I managed to disentangle myself from my sister’s limbs without waking her and crawled out of the haystack. The only way to protect Lizzy from this humiliation and possible mental trauma was to get as far away from here as possible, before she woke up. Until now, the darkness and her farsightedness had kept my identity concealed from her, but I knew my anonymity wouldn’t last another minute once she woke up, even in the early morning light. I carefully gathered all my belongings, and made sure I hadn’t left anything that might implicate me. I had to go. Now. Really.

Casting one long, last glance at Lizzy, I realized that I was about to leave behind the girl that was everything I could ever want in a woman. She was stunningly beautiful, with a body that was made to worship, but at the same time she was funny and smart and had the most caring personality; sweet, pure and innocent.

Walking away from her was perhaps the hardest thing I ever had to do. I gave my love a farewell kiss on the lips and inhaled her scent for a last time. She mumbled softly in her sleep as I kissed her, but luckily, she didn't fully wake up. Knowing I had pushed my luck as far as possible, I picked up my gear and tiptoed out of the barn.

I didn’t feel like going home, there was still too much going on in my head. For the next hour or so I roamed the coastline, climbing over the rocks and crossing the beaches as I tried to clear my head. It was to no avail. I was still troubled and confused when I snuck into the home.

It was still early in the morning, and I could really use another couple of hours rest, but I was not ready to go back to bed. I took a can of beer from the fridge and sat down at the kitchen table. Last night had been both the best and worst night of my life. I had fallen in love with a girl, only to learn I could never be with her. There were literally thousands of girls on this island, and yet, the only one I wanted was my own little sister.

Then, as I opened a second can, my thoughts drifted to Amanda. I had all but forgotten about my cheating slut of an ex-girlfriend. I opened my wallet and took out her photo, the photo that had always been with me for the last three years, and I tore it in half. Next I tore up the halves and then again and again, until her picture was reduced to hundreds of tiny pieces, nothing but a heap of confetti. Feeling a little better, I put my wallet back in my pocket.

Besides my wallet, there was another object in my pocket. It was a woolly tail, the sheep’s tail Lizzy had worn under her skirt and given to me after our first meeting. I pulled the keepsake out of my pocked and let the soft fur run through my fingers while I recalled some of last night’s events. Thinking of her was mental torture, but I couldn’t stop myself. Every time I closed my eye, I saw Lizzy’s beautifully sculpted body and I remembered the touch and taste of her skin. Most of all, I remembered the way she had kissed me, hungrily and sincerely, and with a promise of more to come. There wasn't anything about her I didn't like, and there were so many things left to explore. If only...

I walked back to the fridge and looked inside. There was a whole six-pack waiting for me. I decided it'd be better that, instead of taking a third can of beer, I'd go upstairs and take a cold shower. Getting drunk now would be stupid and dangerous.

A little later I lay down on my bed and waited for sleep to come. The shower hadn’t done a thing to calm me down, and the alcohol hadn’t helped either. Finally, after a lot of tossing and turning, sleep came. Not much later I was roused again by the smell of bacon and coffee.

“Good morning Jethro” mom greeted me as I stumbled into the kitchen. She pulled back a chair for me and put down a plate with toast, scrambled eggs and bacon in front of me. “Dig in”

“Thanks” I groaned groggily.

She sat down opposite of me and slowly sipped from her mug of tea. I knew there was something on her mind, but she was unsure how to bring it up. “So, err; You left a bit of a mess last night” she said after a while.

“I'm sorry. I know you don't like me drinking, but I'm old enough and I’ll pay for it if you want.”

“You don’t have to pay for anything. And that’s not what I meant anyway. I was talking about the photo.”

I looked up. “Photo?”
“That picture of Amanda, torn into tiny pieces. I guess last night didn't go too well?”

“No. Not at all. I've had it with her.”

“You're breaking up with her?”

“Yes”
“Oh, my; What happened?”
“I don't want to talk about it” I said, knowing full well mom wouldn't back off until I had told her the whole story. She had the tenacity of an inquisitor.

“I'm sorry Jethro. Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. I was thinking about breaking up with her anyway.”

“Oh, why's that?”

“I don't know; we've been drifting apart. She's changed.”

“That's too bad; She wasn't there?”

“Oh, she was there alright” I growled over my cup of coffee.

“Did you have a fight?”

“No, we didn't fight. Didn't even speak.”

“Then what happened?”

I shrugged and rolled my eyes.

“Please tell me, what happened?”

“Okay; well. So, I was out looking for Mandy, and one of the first places I looked was the pond in Jack’s grove. You know the place?”

Mom nodded.

“It’s always been one of our special places, and I really thought I would find her there. Well, sure enough, there was a lamb that looked like Amanda, and I kissed her. But when I asked, she bleated like she didn’t know me. So, I moved on and kept searching for hours.”

“Hmm; and then what happened?”

“Well, the thing is, that girl in Jacks grove, it was Amanda.”

“She was? Why would she do that?”
“I didn’t know that either, but I found out later. Before I went home, I went back to Jack’s grove, to see if I hadn’t missed her. The small pasture by the pond was packed with people. There were at least thirty guys, and Mandy was there, and so was Diane. They were both naked and having sex with all those guys, fucking two and three at a time, one after another” I blurted out.

“Oh, I'm so sorry baby” she said, hugging me tightly.

“Thanks mom.”

Suddenly I felt like crying. I missed the good old days of being a kid and not have to worry about life. The days that mom’s hugs cured every pain, and I could still play innocently with my sister without dreaming of her sweet kisses and her perfect naked body.

“I never liked that girl, Diane. I bet it’s all her doing” mom said as she sat down again.

I shrugged my shoulders and stirred my eggs.

“Remember, there are many girls that are much nicer than Amanda”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Hi there,” dad greeted me as he entered the kitchen. “Wow, you look like you've had a rough night”

“He and Amanda broke up last night”

“Breaking up at Sheep-shaggin’? Are you daft?”

“Please, be a bit more sensitive, Dan”

“Why? He doesn't seem to mind it much. Anyway, all I’m saying is, if he had dumped her just one day sooner, he'd be single for Sheep-shaggin’, which is the best night to be single. I bet he could have shagged over half a dozen lambs. You know, when I was his age-”

A stern look from my mother shut him up quickly.

“I'm sorry son. You'll eventually get over her” he said as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

“I am over her.”
“Well then. Onwards and upwards, I say.”

He drank his cup of coffee and grabbed a sticky bun.

It wasn’t a lie, I honestly was over Amanda. Now I had to get over Lizzy, which might prove to be a more difficult, if not impossible task. All I could think about was my poor, sweet little sister, waking up alone in Jim’s barn. During the night, our bodies had made a promise, and I had broken it.

“Are you?” mom asked suddenly.

My Sheep Girl: Part 2

Snowden Speaks — Fri, 28 Feb 2025 06:59:00 -0600

She seems so familiar?
Based on a post by SquattingEagle. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.

The girl was shivering in my arms as the cool night breeze chilled the damp skin of her back. Although I wouldn’t mind fooling around a little more, I didn’t want her to catch a cold, or worse. I was feeling around for her sweater when my hand landed on something soft and furry. Picking it up, I recognized it as the woolly tail the girl had been wearing around her waist. At some point while we were having sex, the ribbon had come undone and the tail fell off.

“You've lost your thingy” I said.

“My thingy?”
“Here” I said, giving her the furry tail.

“My lucky tail; Here, you keep it,” she whispered, “and think of me.” She handed it back to me and gave me one more kiss. After the kiss, her lips stayed near mine, as if she was hesitating. “But; If you want; I'd; really like to spend the night with you”

‘Spend the night’ didn’t mean just more sex, it also implied waking up together. It was as close to asking me who I was as was allowed. It meant I wasn’t the only one who felt something special had happened here tonight.

“Little lamb, I wouldn’t want anything else” I whispered, “But; I can’t. Not yet. There’s something I have to do first; I…” I didn’t know what to say, how could I tell this girl that I loved her, but that I first had to dump my girlfriend of three years, and not sound like a complete douchebag?

I tucked the wooly tail in my pocket and got up. We didn’t say another thing while we dressed ourselves and reluctantly got ready to part. I hesitated to let her go while her identity was still a complete mystery to me.

“I…” I started.

“Shush” she said, laying her finger on my lips. “It’s okay, I understand; But, if you change your mind, I’ll be waiting for you in Old Jim's barn. And please, for God’s sake, be quiet” she whispered. Then she stepped back and disappeared into the darkness. She was gone, and I missed her already. Almost immediately she reemerged and gave me one last sincerely affectionate kiss. Then she disappeared for good, and I was alone.

After I had gathered my belongings, I sat down on the rock wall and replayed her words, digesting them and making sure I remembered them correctly. Despite its obvious intention, it was a strange request. Old Jim, or uncle Jim as we called him at home, was a grumpy old bastard who was known to chase people off his property with a loaded shotgun. He was my mother’s uncle and I knew him well, so he probably wouldn’t shoot me, but the girl couldn’t know that. Why then would she ask me to go to such a perilous place? Was she testing me? Did I have to prove my valor by risking my life to be with her? Or had my rejection angered her and was she now playing a cruel trick on me?

Then another idea came to mind. What if she had chosen Jim’s barn because she knew nobody would look there but me? It was the option I liked best, but I knew there was only one way to learn her true reasons, and that was to spend the night together and ask her in the morning. It was another reason on my already long list to go there, but before I could allow myself to take one step in the direction of Old Jim’s barn, I had to find Amanda.

Suddenly, I was feeling terribly guilty. I had cheated on my long-time girlfriend. Even if Amanda turned out not to be my true love after all, I still betrayed her when I had sex with that gorgeous lamb. It was an act I disapproved of wholeheartedly, despised even, and I could not understand what had come over me to let myself go like that. What made my infidelity even worse was that I didn’t regret it, and longed to do it again. Making love with the little blonde, even as rushed and anonymous as it had been, was so much more intimate and passionate than it had ever been with Mandy. It had been everything I yearned for these last months, and much, much more.

I decided that first, I had to find Amanda and figure out my feelings for her. Only if there really was nothing worth salvaging, and I had formally broken up with her, would I allow myself to think about that other girl again. The only problem was time. I had no idea who the little lamb was or where she lived, I only knew that she would be waiting for me at uncle Jim’s barn. It meant I had to hurry if I wanted to see her again. Who knows how long an angel would wait for someone like me? Half an hour? An hour? Two?

One thing was clear; if I wasted too much time looking for Amanda, the identity of the blonde goddess would remain a mystery forever. With renewed determination to find my girlfriend, I fastened my duffel coat and hurried off into the darkness. Having already checked all the familiar places, I decided to revisit the ones I checked first, in case I had missed her before. My first stop should be somewhere nearby; a small forest known as Jack’s grove. Hidden in the heart of that dense group of trees was a little pond and next to it a patch of mossy grass. It was one of our dearest spots on the island. It was there, on that secluded pasture, that Mandy and I had made love for the first time. It was also where I had found Mandy on our first night of sheep-shaggin’, three years ago.

When I first visited that place, there was a dressed-up girl hiding by the pool. A lamb I initially thought to be Mandy, had it not been for the stale taste of cigarettes on her lips and a coldness in her kiss. While I was still undecided, she quickly broke off the kiss and a resolute bleating sealed her rejection. That was three hours ago, but it felt like years had passed since.

It took me a while to figure out where I was exactly, but then I was off. Running most of the way, I made it to Jack’s grove in under ten minutes. As I neared my destination, I heard the sound of male voices hollering in the dark. I decided to check out the source of the commotion and headed in the direction of the voices. Maybe I’d find one of my mates, or someone who might know Amanda’s whereabouts. A couple of yards ahead, I discovered the clamor of voices originated from inside Jack’s grove.

As I made my way through the trees, the hollering fell silent for a brief moment. No longer drowned out by the loud male voices, I could now hear a series of hoarse moans. It was a girl who was doing the moaning, and she sounded suspiciously much like Mandy. I could not yet see what was going on inside the clearing, but the noises that echoed in the forest left little to the imagination. The loud, lustful moaning was cut off by muffled gagging and slurping noises, and accompanied by the rapid, repetitive sound of flesh slapping against flesh.

At last, I reached the opening in the forest, and the source of the racket. As I looked through the trees, I saw the small patch of mossy grass was illuminated by the soft glow of a kerosene lamp. Carrying a lantern or flashlight was expressly forbidden by the unwritten rules of sheep-shaggin’, but I did not care about that, because it allowed me to see what was going on. There were at least thirty guys standing in a semicircle, drinking beer and scratching their balls as they gazed at the lewd display that was taking place next to the pond. Peering through the group of men, I saw a glimpse of not one, but two naked girls, one of them being Amanda. She was on all fours and had her head buried between another girl’s long, shapely legs, while some fat guy was fucking her hard from behind.

I quietly crawled through the brush to the other side of the pond and hid there in the darkness. From this position I had an unobstructed view of the action across the water. There was no mistake, the girl was Mandy. The legs wrapped around her head belonged to her new friend Diane, also known as the biggest whore on the island. I did not know the guy that was fucking my girlfriend, nor did I know either of the two Neanderthals who were having their cocks sucked by Diane. Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if the girls didn’t know them either.

I had already suspected that Mandy’s friendship with Diane was partly responsible for the growing divide between my girlfriend and me. She knew I didn’t like her associating with people like Diane, and she assured me she had nothing to do with her, barely even knew her. Like all her lies, I had believed it at the time. It was only later, when Dave swore me that he himself had seen them going out together, getting drunk and having fun with guys in bars that I started to doubt her words.

Now there was no doubt anymore. She claimed she hardly knew Diane, yet here I was, less than twenty feet from my whoring soon-to-be ex-girlfriend, watching her lick Diane’s hairless pussy like it was made of ice cream. I had no idea Mandy even had any lesbian or bisexual appetites, but it was obvious Amanda was well versed in the art of eating pussy. She was slurping lustfully on Diane’s clit and fingered her sloppy hole at the same time. Her friend was grabbing handfuls of hair and moaned loudly whenever her mouth wasn’t filled with one or more cocks.

All this time, the nameless fat guy was pounding away at Mandy’s pussy. His bloated, hairy belly slammed against her ass with smacking sounds that reverberated in the forest. After another minute of this brutal fucking, the man bellowed that he was going to cum. He slammed into Mandy’s ass one last time and then clenched his butt as he flooded her canal with his sperm. Amanda didn’t even look up as the guy came inside her, she just kept lapping and sucking Diane’s pussy.

When he was completely spent, the guy withdrew his wilting cock, pulled up his pants and staggered away. A flood of his slimy semen gushed from Mandy’s inflamed pussy and oozed down her legs. Judging from the amount of cum already dripping down her thighs, this man wasn’t the first to unload inside her tonight. Nor would he be the last.

Right then, one of the guys who Diane was blowing grunted a few words and yanked his cock from her lips. He pumped his fist up and down his shaft a couple of times and then poured a dozen squirts of cum into her wide-open mouth. Then he too tucked his cock back in his pants and stumbled back to his mates in the pasture. Meanwhile, the other guy was also jacking off and within a couple of seconds he too ejaculated into Diane’s gaping mouth. After he had added his load to that of the first guy, Diane closed her mouth and got up.

With her mouth full of cum, Diane pulled Mandy up on her knees. She grabbed Mandy’s head and, while the crowd was going insane, let the slimy cum drip from her lips. Amanda opened her mouth and let her friend feed her the double dose of cum straight from her mouth. The girls kissed and swapped back and forth the large mouthful of sperm until Mandy swallowed it all. She then proudly presented her empty mouth to the audience, and promptly called out to the crowd for more men to fuck her.

A new guy walked up to the girls and dropped his pants. I knew the guy, a total asshole. The girls couldn’t care less about his personality, they only had eyes for the big, throbbing, pre-cum drooling erection he offered them. They both jumped at it, but it was Mandy who won. She gobbled up his cock and really went to town on it. Diane, formerly the biggest slut on the island, was forced to play second fiddle to her friend and pupil. All she could do was lick the guy’s balls and asshole, and hope Mandy wouldn’t have sucked him dry before she had her chance to blow his cock. To add injury to insult, while my cheating slut ex-girlfriend was slobbering on the asshole’s cock, a second guy grabbed her ass and rammed his cock in her sodden pussy.

With Mandy being fucked from both ends and having no cock inside her herself, Diane was feeling left out and she also called for more guys, practically ordering the audience to come and fuck her. A small group of volunteers emerged from the crowd and not much later she was sucking cock, bouncing up and down in another guy’s lap while a third guy fucked her ass. With all her holes stuffed and her role as top slut somewhat restored, Diane was happy again. The audience was cheering wildly as the five men proceeded to fuck the girls in all their holes.

I gazed at the depraved spectacle for maybe fifteen minutes while I was trying to digest this new information and decide what to do next. I figured I had only two options; either make my presence known and give Amanda a piece of my mind, or just leave and forget about her. As I watched her thirstily gulp down another load of cum and then hoarsely call out for more, I decided to take the second option. Making a scene would be humiliating, risky even, and utterly pointless.

Besides, I really didn’t care that much anymore. I had seen how my cheating girlfriend was being passed around like a 5-dollar whore and cummed in by one guy after another. There was no doubt as to whether she was participating willingly. Whenever Mandy’s mouth wasn’t on a cock or pussy, she was asking for more guys to fuck her ass or pussy and ordering them to fill her holes with cum.

I also understood now that the girl I had met here earlier had indeed been Amanda after all. She undoubtedly had known who I was when I kissed her, and she chose to reject me. Maybe it was at that moment that she decided she didn’t want me anymore, or, more likely, she and Diane already had their little gangbang prearranged, and she didn’t need me hanging around. Frankly, it didn’t matter, I had seen enough.

The sounds of Mandy’s infidelity were fading quickly as I distanced myself from Jack’s grove. My feet carried me away aimlessly, and soon I was completely alone again, surrounded by silence and darkness. Once again, my path was cut off by one of the low rock walls and again I had to decide where to go. But this time, before I could pick a direction, I first had to determine my destination.

I sat down on the hard, cold rocks and tried to make up my mind. There was a lot to think about and I had to clear my head a bit before I made any rash decisions. I had set out to find Amanda, and I had found her. Seeing her and discovering her true nature, didn’t make me feel angry. I didn’t even feel betrayed. I already didn’t want her anymore before I even entered Jack’s grove. If I felt anything, it was relief that our decaying relationship was truly and undeniably over.

I pushed my hands in my pockets and let the furry tail slide between my fingers. The little keepsake was the only evidence I had that the encounter wasn’t a dream, that the girl was real and the time we enjoyed together really happened. The girl’s whispered request to meet her in Old Jim's barn was firmly etched in my mind. At the time I couldn’t take her up on her offer, but now that I had declared myself single again, I was morally allowed to see her, and even spend the rest of the night together. Maybe I should just go there to see if the girl was really waiting for me.

I really, desperately wanted to be with her again. Not just for more awesome sex, but to hold her in my arms, smell her hair and kiss her lips. And of course, to spend the night together and get properly acquainted after sunrise.

At the same time, there was another voice inside my head, warning me that it might not be the best idea to rush into another relationship just yet. While I couldn’t ignore the fact that there was wisdom to that voice, the idea that I might lose the only chance I had to find out who the lamb really was, scared me. It was almost an hour already since we parted. Bad idea or not, I just had to go back to her, back to Old Jim’s barn.

But, where the hell was I?

Not surprisingly, I was once more completely surrounded by darkness. I knew that behind me was a hayfield and on the other side of the rock wall border there appeared to be an empty meadow. I could see the stars in the sky above me, and far away in the distance a few buildings, but no recognizable landmarks. I climbed over the wall and continued my hike in the direction of the houses. Maybe I’d know where I was when I got there, or else there would be a road that would lead me back to civilization. I made my way through the knee-high grass until I arrived at a barbed wire fence. As walked along the fence, I had an almost religious experience.

The building I was heading for was none other than Old Jim's barn. Fate, or maybe the spirit of Linus, had guided my feet directly back to my little lamb. There was only one thing I could do. I hopped over the fence and tiptoed towards the big old shed.

Uncle Jim was probably asleep, and I happened to know that his aging watchdog was practically deaf. Still, the dog could see well, even in t

My Sheep Girl: Part 1

Snowden Speaks — Thu, 27 Feb 2025 06:58:00 -0600

I found true love while participating in one of my hometown’s little known, but deeply cherished local traditions.
Based on a post by SquattingEagle. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.

Island folklore.

Hi, I'm Jethro, I’m nineteen years old and I live with my parents and two younger sisters on one of the small islands off the east coast of Ireland. Although, to be truthful, that’s where I used to live, as I'm currently spending most of my days on the mainland, attending university. But the island will always be home to me and once I’ve graduated, I’ll surely go back. There's just something special about life on a small, isolated island like ours that simply can’t be found anywhere else.

Until the day I’ll return to the island for good, I can only try to visit home as often as I could, which is nowhere near as often as I wanted. You see, merely driving from the campus to the harbor would take at least four hours. If traffic was heavy, five or six hours was more likely. And that was just the first part of the journey. From there on, the only way to the island was by a three-hour boat trip. Weather permitting, this boat shuttled back and forth three times a day. Bad weather, however, was liable to keep the ferry moored at the harbor for days at a time, especially during the stormy autumn and winter months.

While this remoteness was a bit of a pain to me now, the isolation was also what made our island unique, and is therefore essential to the story I am about to tell you.

As you can imagine, our community is largely self-reliant and very much independent of the mainland. It’s been like that for centuries, and even modern technology had not been able to change that. According to the tourist board, our 'picturesque island' houses about 19,000 people, and over 50,000 sheep that roam the fields and forests. Apparently, we are ‘known for our own unique and age-old traditions', most of which are in some way connected to our ‘long lineage of brave fishermen’ and dedicated to ‘the men who sailed stormy seas to bring home nothing but the finest fresh fish’.

While most of our local festivities do indeed involve the sea and its bounties in one way or another, one was quite unlike all the others. That particular day is known as Linus Day, and it is probably the most cherished of all our traditions. Linus Day is celebrated each year on the day of the first new moon in spring and got its name after a nobleman that featured in one of the local legends. It was because of this holiday that I had decided to skip my classes and visit home for a couple of days.

The Legend of Linus.

A long time ago, there lived on the island a man named Linus. As the story goes, he was a wealthy nobleman who had everything his heart could desire. Good looks, lots of money, a luxurious home and scores of friends. His good fortune seemed complete when he met a beautiful girl with a smile that brought sunlight to a rainy day. He quickly fell in love with her and within weeks of their first meeting, he asked her to be his wife. She gladly accepted his proposal and a huge wedding feast was announced. Everyone on the island was invited.

Unknown to Linus, his fair young fiancée wasn't the only one who had fallen for his handsome looks and charming personality. There was another woman, one who was deeply scorned when she learned of his betrothal. On the evening before the wedding, this other woman paid the nobleman an unannounced visit. She warned him that his fiancée was not his true love, and that he should marry her instead. When Linus replied that she was mistaken and that there was nothing she could do to change his mind, the woman burst out in anger. In a fit of rage, she summoned the ancient spirits and put a curse on the bride-to-be.

Before storming out the door, the enraged woman swore that if Linus did not call off the wedding, his bride would be turned into a sheep and be cursed to roam the island among the other animals for the remainder of her life. Only if Linus could prove his love for the girl was true, would he be able to lift the curse.

Linus was a judicious man and in too good a mood to let the woman’s angry ravings ruin his day, and quickly forgot the entire incident. However, the next morning, on the day of the wedding, the young bride was reported missing. The townsfolk searched the whole island and left no stone unturned, but the girl was nowhere to be found. It was then that Linus recalled the woman's angry words, and fear struck his heart. He ran into the fields and scrutinized every herd on the island, desperately looking for his lost fiancée among the sheep. He searched all day, but the animals all looked and sounded the same. Devastated, he returned home.

Before long, people started talking about the nobleman's increasingly eccentric behavior. He hired a dozen huntsmen and ordered them to shoot all the wolves and wild cats on the island. Once that was done, he had all his lands converted into pastures and bought many acres more, only to let them lay unoccupied, except for a few flocks of sheep. He subsequently declared that no-one on the island was to ever lay a finger on the animals and assured the people he would repay all damages caused by them.

Even his friends and family believed he had lost his mind when Linus then sold his wealthy home and became a shepherd, living in a wooden shed. The years went by and the nobleman spent a fortune doing everything he could to protect the island’s ever-growing population of sheep. His resources were diminishing fast, but still he managed to feed and shelter the animals throughout one of the longest and harshest winters the people on the island had ever witnessed. At last springtime arrived, and on the night of the first new moon he lay in his shack, alone, cold and hungry. He had lost absolutely everything, every penny he owned, his mansion and his scores of friends. Everything but his looks and the thousands of animals he cared so deeply for.

On that first moonless night in spring, though he himself was starving, he gave his last piece of bread to one of the sheep that took refuge with him in the shack. Then, as he watched the animal devour the dry morsel of bread, it suddenly shed its thick coat and from under the layer of wool emerged a beautiful young woman. It was none other than his long-lost fiancée, his one true love. By sacrificing absolutely everything he had, Linus had finally managed to lift the curse.

Reunited at last, Linus and his fiancée were married the very next day. The news quickly spread throughout island and the townsfolk now arranged to host a feast for the impoverished nobleman and his beautiful bride. Together they built them a new house in the fields, where the couple lived happily ever after. Linus and his wife had six children, all beautiful girls with blonde, curly hair like that of a newborn lamb, a trait that was still prevalent on our island to this day.

As the story goes, it was this legendary wedding feast that the people hosted for the nobleman and his wife that evolved into the local holiday now known as Linus Day, and it is still dedicated to that ancient couple's true love.

Although you won't find it mentioned in any of the tourist board's leaflets, the legend of Linus was also linked to another, more obscure, but equally cherished tradition. This tradition was commonly referred to as Sheep-shaggin’.

On the evening before Linus Day, all the young and unmarried women would dress up as sheep and hide in the woods or fields. Then, as soon as the sun had set, the men would go out as well. If they were in a relationship, it was their task to find their girlfriends and if they did, their love was supposedly destined to be true.

The festival of sheep-shaggin’ was arguably even better for those who were not in a committed relationship. If you were a single guy, tradition allowed you to go into the forest and have sex with as many dressed-up girls as you could find. All night long, all single and willing females were considered fair game. And better still, the complete darkness of the new moon and absence of electric lights practically ensured complete anonymity, if that's what you desired. It was understood that even a total loser could get lucky on sheep-shaggin’.

Me, I was not a total loser and furthermore, I was in a serious, albeit waning, relationship. This night, like every other sheep-shaggin’ for the last three years, my girlfriend Amanda was somewhere out there waiting for me, but tonight I had not been able to find her. I had been searching the dark woods and desolate fields for ages and looked for her in all the places that used to mean something to us, yet I was still wandering alone. I had run into several dressed-up girls in various locations, but none of the lambs proved to be my true love.

In a way, it was indicative of our relationship; I just did not know what Mandy was thinking anymore. After we finished high school almost a year ago, I left the island to attend college while she chose to stay behind and find a job. Although we telephoned almost every day and I did my best to be with my girlfriend as much as possible, our relationship had been going downhill ever since. Especially over the last few months she had changed, becoming more and more detached from me. Whatever remained between us now was purely physical. I mean, the sex we had was still great, but at times it felt more like she was an escort than a girlfriend.

A month ago, my friend Dave told me that he had heard that Mandy was making new friends and seeing other guys. A few days later I had confronted her, and we had a big fight, during which she vehemently denied the accusation. The subsequent make-up sex was spectacular, and maybe I was a bit too eager to believe her after that. But it didn't seem so far-fetched to me now. In fact, it would explain a lot.

It was pitch dark. The only light around was from the few ships far away on the ocean and the millions of tiny stars above me. A gentle breeze rolled in from the sea, dragging thin, ghostly shards of fog into the valleys. I was shivering. Although the vast stretches of water surrounding the island provided us with moderate temperatures all year round, it was quite chilly tonight. It was unlikely anyone would be hiding here on these inhospitable beaches, least of all Mandy, who absolutely despised the cold. I left the dewy shores behind me and directed my search more inland. As I moved on to higher grounds, the climate improved greatly, but still I couldn’t seem to shake off the cold.

It wasn’t the weather though, that caused my discomfort. The duffle coat I was wearing was thick enough to keep me warm, but no amount of wool could keep the chill from my heart. What I really needed to fend off the cold were a loving pair of arms around me, and a supple, warm body to cuddle and caress. Unfortunately, apart from those few twinkling lights far away on the ocean, there wasn’t a single sign of human life around.

As I strode on, the dead silence of the night was broken by the sound of church bells tolling in the distance. It was twelve o’clock, which meant I had fruitlessly traversed the fields and forests for some two hours now. Who knows what would happen tonight. Spending this much time searching the island was proof of my love for Mandy, right? And maybe when I finally kissed her lips, she'd turn back into the girl I used to know and forever be my true love.

On the other hand, if it didn't happen tonight, we might as well break up. Part of me was already willing to accept that I wasn’t going to find her and take it as a sign that Mandy was not my true love after all. Though the idea of going home surely was tempting, it wasn’t in my nature to quit this easily. I could not give up the search until I had examined every place that had some kind of special meaning or memory to us, no matter how insignificant. I pushed my hands deeper into my pockets and walked on, feeling more and more morose and pessimistic with every step I took.

Another hour later, I was just about to throw in the towel. I had checked every site I could think of that had some memory attached to it, and for the last twenty minutes I had been wandering around aimlessly. I knew it was time give up, go home and seriously rethink our relationship. But which way was home? Looking around, I had to admit that I was lost. All I knew was that I was in the middle of a large hayfield, surrounded by a vast, empty darkness. With no recognizable landmarks anywhere in sight, the only thing I could do was to keep walking and hope to eventually stumble across some point of reference to point me home.

As I cut across the field, my path was blocked by one of the old rock wall borders that haphazardly divided up the fields. With no particular direction to go, I walked along the border to wherever it was leading. A couple of hundred yards further on, I saw something moving in the darkness, something grey or white. By now, most of the girls would have been taken home by their lovers, whether old or new, and only a girl who was truly dedicated to her love would still be around. The figure seemed to be a little too big to be a stray sheep, it could be a dressed-up girl. Who knew, maybe this time I was lucky.

As I closed in on the creature, the sound of my footsteps alerted it to my presence. The way it moved was like a girl, not like a sheep. With new hope, I walked toward the girl. A soft, hesitating bleat soon confirmed my suspicion as she greeted the stranger approaching her from the dark. I was still a couple of feet away, but I already knew this girl wasn’t Mandy. She had the right kind of curly blond hair, but her girlish figure was too small, too lithe and her voice too soft and kind. I bend over and kissed her anyway. Her lips were soft and warm. Her scent and the touch of her lips made me thirst for more. Sadly, our kiss ended all too soon.

I held the girl in my arms, delaying the moment I had to let go of this little lamb and head back into the cold and lonely darkness. I really wished this lamb was the girl I was looking for. Though I had no idea who she was, I felt a strange connection with her. If I wasn’t supposed to be looking for someone else, I would have loved to stay. The girl must have thought the same thing, because as I was hesitating to let her go, the blonde pressed her lips once more against mine and gave me another kiss. A little shy she opened her mouth and licked my lips. Knowing I shouldn’t, I opened my mouth anyway.

Had that first kiss merely been a traditional and rather impersonal greeting, this second kiss was something completely different. Tender. Intense. Playful. Inquisitive. Sensual.

It is hard to describe how much I enjoyed kissing this girl. But, although our second kiss lasted a whole lot longer than the first, it too had to end sometime, whether I wanted it to or not. When our lips disconnected, my head was spinning and my search for Amanda suddenly seemed a lot less important than before. Before she released me from her embrace, the girl gave me one last peck on the lips. Then she got down on all fours again, and went back to her role as a sheep, like she was supposed to.

“Little lamb, could you be my true love?” I asked the customary question.

I was unsure of how she would react. I didn’t even know how I wanted her to react. Had she been my true love, she would now get on her feet and take off her costume, then whisper “yes” and kiss me once more. If she was waiting for someone else, then she'd look away and bleat again. Secretly, I was hoping for option number three. If this girl was single and willing, she would now present me her rear for some more anonymous, casual fun.

The girl remained silent. Still on all fours, she hesitated for a few moments and then, finally, she moved. My heart rejoiced as she turned around; not only was the girl still single, she was single and willing. Even though I couldn’t accept what she had to offer, it was a relief to know that somewhere on this island there was a sweet girl that wanted me. She brushed impatiently against my leg, like a playful lamb. As if her intentions weren’t clear enough, she then grabbed my hand and placed it under her skirt, between her legs.

I wavered. The smooth skin of her inner thigh was soft and warm, and it felt dangerously good. The only thing that kept me from ravishing this lovely little lamb on the spot was a deep-rooted moral obligation to my girlfriend. For a guy in a relationship, kissing other girls was permissible during sheep-shaggin’, but anything beyond that was still considered cheating. But what if I wasn’t in a relationship anymore? It would be a shame if I passed up this lovely lamb because of a misplaced sense of loyalty to a girlfriend who was nowhere to be f

Scout's Oath

Snowden Speaks — Wed, 26 Feb 2025 11:40:00 -0600

“To help other people at all times..”
Based on a post by Tx Tall Tales. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.

Jeannie was mortified.
She wanted desperately to be a member of Rho Iota Epsilon; her mother would be devastated if she wasn't. She'd endured the normal hazing, the cold showers taken while racing against the other pledges to repeat the Greek alphabet, cleaning the toilets with her toothbrush, the yelling and name calling, being woken up at night, even the embarrassing skits.
But this was too much.
She knew she shouldn't delay, that it wasn't going to get much better. There were only three people on the sidewalk in front of the building. She braced herself to make a run for it, taking one last look from her shelter behind the shrubs. A group of half-a-dozen frat brothers poured out of the entrance across the way, and she huddled down, praying they wouldn't look her way. With every minute that passed, she knew it would only get worse, as more and more students started heading to their early morning classes. Jeannie kicked herself for hesitating.
She shut her eyes tightly, fighting the tears. One lousy mistake. That's all it had taken, and now the pledge mistress had it out for her. She knew she should quit and just walk away, but she didn't want to give the bitch the pleasure. And her mother would never forgive her.
"What the hell's going on?"
She opened her eyes in shock to see a guy standing just a couple of feet away, looking her up and down. She blushed from head to toe, and he couldn't miss the fact, since the only thing she was wearing was her sandals. That, and a clipboard in one hand, a pencil tied to a string around her wrist in the other.
Jeannie hunched over, trying to cover up. "I can't say."
"Pledge?"
She nodded weakly.
He stepped closer and she trembled. Then he turned effectively blocking the view of her from quad. "You don't have to do this, you know? This is way out of line, and dangerous. They could get kicked off campus and shut down for pulling this kind of crap."
"It's not that simple."
"How long do you have to stay out here?" he asked.
"I ... I have to walk the quad circuit."
"Bullshit!" he snapped. "No fucking way."
"Please, don't interfere. I have to." Jeannie was on the verge of crying again. She'd been watching for fifteen minutes, praying for a lull in the traffic, so she could sprint around the perimeter. It was only a couple of hundred yards. Then the horror would be almost over.
The guy shook his head, and started removing his shirt.
"I can't. I can't wear anything."
He ignored her, laying the shirt over the bush beside him, then started taking off his shoes. She watched him in terror as he opened his pants.
"No. No way," she hissed. "Don't."
"Calm down," he said, folding his jeans in half and putting them beside his shirt. Then he removed his boxers and he was as naked as her.
"What are you doing?"
He smiled and extended his hand. "C'mon. Let's get this over with."
She placed her hand in his, and felt the small squeeze. She resisted his pull, but he was relentless.
"Stand tall. Proud. Don't let the bastards get to you," he said. He pulled and she stepped out of her shelter, and onto the sidewalk. She bowed her head, staring at the ground in front of her.
"I'm Alex."
She allowed the stranger to pull her along, and she kept pace, with short mincing steps. "Jeannie."
"Dude! What the fuck? And who's the babe?" Jeannie glanced up to see two guys walking toward them.
Please, God. Don't let them ask about the clipboard. Please.
My first time with a woman was way better than porn!
Based on a post by my deep six. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.

My name is Robbie, looks-wise I'm tall and lanky, awkward, with curly brown hair usually too long, and up to last weekend, a virgin College sophomore. I learned when you are single with few friends, meeting a woman is hard, meeting one that will touch your cock is harder, and the fact that I was a poor, scruffy underclassman was not helping.
Between class schedule, part-time work, and no real social outlet, I found myself stressed at school, so when I learned about a weekend scuba trip to a nearby quarry "Lake Lumiere", I signed up. I'd been "Open Water" certified in high school, but out of practice, I was looking forward to a little adventure.
Saturday morning at sunrise, the charter bus dropped us off at the Quarry's dive shop, I grabbed my rental wet suit, fins, and other gear and headed for the showers to change. There was a bank of 6 doors in the cinder block building on the "Men's" side, and the same behind them for women. The stalls were tiny shower/toilet/sink rooms, barely large enough for two, but room enough to change. Most of the doors were closed or marked "Occupied", but there was one door on the end slightly ajar, so I pushed my way in.
"Get in here and shut that door!" I heard a man's voice. My eyes were adjusting to the interior light but I reflexively obeyed, turning to lock the door behind me. When I turned around I saw this naked guy in the shower, his cock deep in a bent-over woman facing away from me, she was holding onto the shower wall for dear life. Her wet suit was unzipped past her ass, and she was moaning with pleasure: "Don't stop! Fuck me! I need your cock in me! Fuck! Fuck!" The shower guy was only too eager to keep going, his lean, muscled frame covered in hair, but you could see his six-pack abs and big chest flexing even as he pumped in and out of her, making her squeal and grunt. I tried to look away but stared as if I was watching it on my laptop.
The shower guy was pounding her hard, then he grunted "Ugh ugh ugh Ugh!" and I guess he climaxed, ejaculated, his cock slowly pumping away at her cunt. Just as she cried out "Oh, god, yes!" in ecstasy I heard a banging on the door and some other guy yelling "Sandy? Sandy, are you in there?" The woman whispered "Shit, it's my husband!" and then semi-stood up and looked over my way, noticing I was there for the first time. She had a swimmer's body, but big boobs, red hair, maybe in her early 30s, a very hot MILF in retrospect. Her face went from a post-orgasmic bliss to a mild shock at seeing me look over at them.
"Who the fuck is he?" she whispered to the guy still balls deep in her dripping cunt. He pulled out and zipped up her wet suit, kissed her, smiled, and said "Trust me." He reached up and unlocked one of the narrow frosted windows over the shower, and boosted her up. She was shapely, even with her with big tits stuffed into her wet suit. She looked around to see if it was clear, whispered "See you later, stud." and shimmied herself out the window, lowering herself down and I heard sounds of footsteps running away.
The nude guy didn't move to get dressed or cover-up. Laid back for a guy who just nailed a married woman; whose husband was right outside, pounding on the door. He looked very relaxed, then smiled at me, saying: "Open the door, bud?" so I, still a little stunned, unlocked the door and cracked it open. The guy outside pushed it open and asked "Sandy? Are you in there?" Almost knocking me over. I heard a voice behind me say "No "Sandy" here, but you can come it." Looking over my shoulder, Sandy's husband made a disgusted face, then looked and me and shook his head, moving backward until he turned and left.
I shut and locked the door, and turned to see the shower guy was still nude, then I noticed his semi-hard cock was wet and dripping cum onto the floor as he pulled his condom off. I looked at his face in horror. He grinned and said "Hi, I'm Tony" extending his hand to shake.
I was still dumbfounded, it must have been visible in my face. Tony lowered his hand and started to pull on his wet suit. "Your name is?" he asked. "Robbie" I managed to say, still not sure what was happening.
"Well, Robbie, you did a good thing just now, I owe you a favor."
"A favor?" I asked, "That dude thinks I'm gay! The whole camp might too!" I blurted out. Tony looked at me and asked, "She was pretty hot, wasn't she?" I nodded. He continued "Do you want to taste her twat?" I nodded. Tony then wagged his big, still dripping cock toward me and said "She came all over my cock, go for it!"
I must have looked appalled, Tony just laughed and pulled his wet suit up over his waist. "Robbie, you look pretty straight to me. But, playing gay just kept me out of a lot of trouble, so I'll make it up to you. Trust me."
I shrugged and returned to getting ready, pulling my wet suit on. I looked over at Tony, he was my height, maybe a little more, a little older, not much, with thick brown well well-kept hair on his head. Big arms, broad shoulders, hairy. A toothy but warm smile. He was one of those laid-back handsome types, the kind people liked immediately.
Tony asked me "Do you have a dive partner today?" I shook my head "No". He smiled and slapped my back "You do now!"
The morning diving turned out awesome, the quarry was cold but the water clear and full of all kinds of fish, and sunken vehicles to explore. Tony was an experienced diver, giving me tips and suggestions and we were quick friends. We didn't see Sandy all morning, but did get a lot of attention from other girls, Tony just naturally attracted them; he'd jump out of the water onto the dock, unzip his wet suit and flex a little in the sun, and Boom! Girls. They'd make any excuse to talk with him, and he seemed to thrive on the attention. After a while, I got comfortable doing "Wingman" duties, as it was a great ice-breaker and I think I talked to more girls that day than my entire life before this moment. It felt great.
At lunchtime, we dropped off our scuba tanks for an air refill and talked. "OK, who is Sandy?" I asked. "Honestly? Tony admitted, "I was looking for an open room to change, and she came up to me asking for help with her wet suit zipper, I noticed a ring on her finger but we talked and the next thing I know she's kissing me and rubbing my cock. I barely got my rubber on before she bent over and slid my cock up into her (very tight!) cunt! A minute later you showed up!" He acted like this was an ordinary morning for him, so I let it drop.
After lunch, we explored the quarry until our tanks were almost out of air, and packed our gear up, dropping off our tanks at the rental shop. Again, several girls from college would stop and chat, happy to talk with Tony and his friend, as if I got better looking by association. We had a great time, I didn't notice Tony had disappeared for a while but then showed up with two take-out boxes of burgers and fries, saying "I've got a beer at the tent, come on!"
He had pitched his tent next to his vintage red Mustang convertible, a real beauty. We sat nearby and talked more, Tony offered me tips to meet and socialize with women, what the best cars were, the best places he's ever gone scuba diving, and the many times a boyfriend or husband almost caught him fucking their wife or date. He was so casual about it as if it happened to everyone. I listened and hoped to remember his tips and advice. Before long the sun set and we lit a small campfire. There were the sounds of parties, radios blaring music, and cars as they returned from dinner or left the park. It was a great evening.
Tony checked his watch and said, "Sandy will be by soon, she told me her husband drinks and passes out not too long after dark." I was impressed, he knew how to read people, that was certain.
Based on the legend of Pope Joan.
By professor98. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

The following account is fiction, which is based on the well-documented Legend of Pope Joan, the first, and last female Pope of the Catholic Church.
As this story took place in the ninth century of the Christian era, or Year of our Lord; many of the terms are from ancient languages. Words such as slitten, which is Old English for slit, and sheath, later referred to as ‘cunny’ or cunt. Although the specific accounts were not taken down on paper, the story refers to certain facts in which the legend was based.
The first, and last female Pope of the Catholic Church
In the year of our lord, 823 A D, a girl, Joanna Wellen was born in a small village not far from Salisbury Plain in southern England.
He mother died due to complications of the birth. As she grew, she would often visit Stonehenge, with her father who treated her with great love and affection. Stonehenge was a religious center, and an astronomical observatory; which lay not far from their village. It was used as a place of worship, especially by the surfs and peasants who were not allowed to attend Church.
In those days in England and Europe for that matter, females were considered worthless and only good for birthing babies, cooking, scrubbing and cleaning for a man. They were not allowed to go to school, as society thought them incapable of learning.
Joanna grew up as a scullery maid and worked on her Father's farm for years. From the time she learned to speak, Joan always wanted to learn about everything, so when she was fifteen and began to clean house for the village schoolteacher, they became friends and when she was not working, she begged him to teach her to read.
As her father loved her very much, he had no complaints regarding her studies, and invited the schoolteacher for supper, four evenings a week in payment for teaching her.
After several years, the schoolteacher, one Edmund Beddus was married to a fairly well to do somewhat older widow, Gwendolyn Vaughan, who's late husband was killed in a horseback ridding accident. It was not well known at the time; however he was drunk. As Edmund didn't earn much money, he jumped at the chance to marry Gwendolyn, mostly for her stature and wealth.
After a while, Gwendolyn became angry due to the attention Edmund paid to Joan and threatened him with a divorce. Edmond ended his three-year relationship with the girl, and she had to return all of the books she had borrowed.
The young village priest Father Paul had always seen Joan walking with a book in her hands and was taken with her beauty. One day he saw her passing the church, however she had no book. He called to her and said,
"Are you no longer reading Joan?"
"I no longer have books available to me, Father." She said.
"Well Joan, if ever you wish books to read again, feel free to come by the rectory after supper and I will let you read some that belong to the church."
This was a very special offer as there were no libraries and all books were written by hand. It would be six hundred years before; Johannes Gutenberg would invent moveable type and print his first bible.
The following evening, after making supper for her Father, Joan walked to the church and knocked on the rectory door. Father Paul answered and invited her in. As the parish was pour, they only had four books. One was a bible, the second was a book called, "Entrance to Heaven", which was a guide for priests.
The third and fourth were written in Latin, a language in which Joan had no knowledge. Father Paul told her to be seated by the fire, picked up the book in Latin and began to read.
"When a priest has a craving for a physical union, it is the duty of all females to give themselves to him willingly. This is the law of God. Sexual union is God's reward to everyone who follows his decrees. The female shall spread her legs wide and allow the priest to enter her with his phallic member.
"Father what is a phallic member?"
"All males have a phallic member Joan. It is the essence of a man."
"I have no knowledge of such essence. What will it do?"
"It is the instrument that will allow a female to see God."
"Do you have your phallic member with you Father Paul?"
"Yes, I do."
"May I see it Father?"
"Of course my child."
Father Paul lifted his short tunic and revealed his penis and testicles. Joan was very interested and asked how she would be able to see God, with his instrument. The Father invited her to repose on his bed of straw, and he would display the power of his essence.
When she complied, Father Paul knelt down and lifted her tattered dress, revealing her slitten, the entrance to her passageway. As he spread her legs, Joan wondered what he was doing and why. In her eighteen years she had never heard of this type of ritual,

Making It With the Maid

Piper's Posts — Sun, 23 Feb 2025 11:23:00 -0600

Losing virginity with virgin maid.
by Boneranil, Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Collin is a spoiled Calcutta youth with some very rich parents. He was 20 at the time, when he got into his first experience with a real pussy. It was his maid, named Mani, who was around his age. She is the nurse to Collin's grandmother and sleeps 2 rooms away from Collin's bedroom.

She is a beauty, with nice curves and a handful of boobs. She wears just the chudidar pants, and choli bustier’, without any dupatta or sari to cover her cleavage. While she permeates an ‘air’ of an advanced yoga instructor, she’s actually struggling to have any self confidence because of the criticism coming from Collin’s mother, the matriarch of the home.

Collin was very much drawn towards his maid, and her cleavage would make him go crazy. Her attire would reveal her perfect shape, but still, Collin maintained distance, because of their class differences.

Collin's grandmother found her in a nearby village and brought her to the city, as a maid. Collin's mom never treated her normally and everyone used to scold her.

One night, while going to the toilet, Collin heard Mani crying softly, in her room, while everyone was asleep. This was the first time Collin got to approach her. So, Collin went to her, to find out why she was crying.

Collin said; "What happened Mani? why are you crying?"

Mani said; "Your mom scolded me, for breaking a dish. I didn't do it on purpose."

Collin said; "Oh, I am so sorry Mani, for what my mom did to you."

Mani said; "It's okay, this happens every day. But, the only thing is that I don't have any friends to share my feelings with."

Collin said; "Oh come on, don't think like that. I'll be your friend Mani. Please feel free to talk about anything with me."

Then, for over 30 minutes she talks about her life in the village and all. All this while, Collin's eyes were shifting from her lips, to her boobs and cleavage. Collin's lust was increasing, while his mind raced for a plan immediately.

When they were done talking, Mani was getting ready to go to bed, that draws Collin's attention and he realizes that she sleeps on the floor.

Collin said; "Why are you sleeping on the floor?"

Mani said; "Because this is how I sleep. I don't have a bed."

Collin said; "You can come and sleep in my room. I have a huge bed."

Mani said; "No way, how can I sleep on your bed? That too when you are present? That's not good. Your mom would kill me."

Collin said; "Don't worry about my mom. You can come to my room when everyone is asleep and go early in the morning. I won't tell anyone."

She hesitates for some time, thinking about Collin's proposal, but finally gives in. After she enters his bedroom, Collin closes the door and goes to his bed. She followed him and both of them stood on both sides of the bed. Then, Collin starts to remove his clothes, which startles Mani.

Mani said; "What are you doing? Why are you removing your clothing?"

Collin said; "I sleep without anything on my body. That gives good and peaceful sleep."

Mani said; "Oh, Okay. But, I am here today?"

Collin said; "I don't mind sleeping naked in front of you. You are my friend now."

Mani said; "Okay, your wish."

Her eyes were fixed on Collin's body, as he removed every piece of his attire, one by one. When Collin was completely naked, he looked at her and realized that her eyes were wide, looking straight at his limp cock.

Collin said; "What are you looking at? Never seen a cock before?"

Mani said; "No I didn't. It's big."

Collin said; "You should see when it's hard, it's much bigger then."

Mani said; "Oh, ok."

Then, Collin fell on the bed and she also came and slept beside him, in the same blanket. They had good space between them.

After making herself comfortable on the bed Mani opens up.

Mani said; "You know what? After coming to the city, no one treated me properly, as in the village. You are the 1st person who cared for me."

Collin said; "Oh come on Mani, you are a good girl. And remember, we are friends. I'll do anything a friend could do."

She says thank you and starts crying. Collin turns towards her, moves closer and places a hand on her hand.

Collin said; "Don't cry, ok. I am here for you."

Mani said; "You are the only person who treats me like a friend."

Hearing this, Collin moves further close to her. Now, Collin's face was an inch away from her ear. She could feel his breath on her neck, making her shiver.

Collin slowly whispers in her ear, "You can feel comfortable with me. If you want you can also sleep naked. It will relieve some stress."

Hearing this, her breathing becomes heavier and with a very low husky voice, she says, "Okay."

Collin removes the blanket over her and she gets up. The bed lamp was on and Collin could see her, stripping naked. She removed all her clothes and stood there completely naked. Her pale boobs shined in the visible light, making Collin fall for her again.

Her little pussy is surrounded by little hair. Collin admires her beauty for some time, before speaking up.

Collin said; "You are so beautiful, Mani. I have never seen a girl naked and so gorgeous."

She shyly says, "Thank you. I too never saw a boy naked."

Collin said; "Ok, come on now, get into the blanket and sleep."

She sneaks into the blanket and sleeps on the other side of the bed, her back facing towards Collin. He already had an erection and was going crazy, seeing her like this. In a husky voice, Collin asks her how she was feeling.

Mani said; "It feels so good sleeping naked. I feel relieved."

Collin said; "Yeah, it is so good like this."

Saying this, Collin slowly moves towards her and places his hand on her waist. She jerks by the touch. Collin's dick was an inch away from her ass.

Mani said; "Oh Collin, what are you doing?"

Collin said; "Making you more relieved."

Collin moves his hand further onto her belly and finds her navel. He circles his finger in it and plays for some time, while she is giggling and breathing softly. Collin then moved further, completely pressing himself into her back, making his dick poke her in her ass. She lets out a sharp moan.

"What is that?" Mani said.

"It's my dick.” Collin said. “You can touch it, if you want."

She then found Collin's dick, in her ass crack and held it with her hand.

Mani said; "It feels so hard and big, more than earlier."

"That is because of you." Collin said.

"Is it?" Mani asked.

Collin said; "Yes Mani, seeing your gorgeous body made me hard. I never got such a hard erection."

While she explored Collin's dick with her hand, he took his hand further up, to her boobs and held her boob. She gasps. Collin is flattered by her amazing boobs. He moves to her and starts kissing her neck and shoulders, which makes her go crazy. She squeezes Collin's dick harder, whenever he gives a lick on her neck.

Collin fondled both her boobs, one by one, for some more time, while she played with his cock. Then, Collin turned her to lay on her back and immediately went for a kiss on her lips.

At first, she didn't react. But, after Collin begins to fondle her boobs, she kisses him back, unable to control her desire, and also squeezes his dick harder.

After some smooching, Collin went in for her boobs and took them in his mouth. He takes her nipples between his teeth and bites them, making her moan.

Then, Collin reached for the treasure. While still sucking on her boobs, he placed his hand on her bushy mound. Collin moved his hand in circles, over her outer labia. She starts dripping.

He holds her clitoris with his thumb and index finger, and starts pressing it. She started screaming, and Collins immediately locked her mouth with his and continued his assault on her clit. After 2-3 minutes of clitoral stimulation, she cums heavily on Collin's hand and drenches his bed with her juices.

She let out a huge groan in Collin's mouth and her hips raised, while her juices come out.

Mani said; "Oh god, that was amazing. I never thought I could cum without fingers actually inside my pussy."

Collin said; "Are you relieved now?"

"Oh yes, damn it,” Mani said; “ I am so relieved."

Collin said; "If you permit, I'll give you more."

Mani said; "What do you want my permission for?"

Collin said; "Take my dick in your pussy."

"Oh yes, definitely.” Mani said; “Please give me your dick. Fuck me now."

"Try to relax.” Collin said; “This is gonna hurt."

"I'll take it,” Mani said; “please fuck me."

Then, Collin gets up and spreads her legs wide, revealing her beautiful pussy. He admires her pussy for some time and slowly rubs his cock on it.

Mani said; "Ah, that's so nice. Put it in, please put it in."

Collin slaps her pussy with his dick and teases her. He circles it's top around her pussy lips, making her go wild. Collin places his dick head at the entrance and tries pushing. Only the top goes in and her screams go on. Collin immediately places his hand on her mouth, so that she doesn't make any sounds.

Then, Collin removes his dick completely out and again pushes it in, slowly. Half of his dick goes in and comes in contact with a stopping. He realizes it is her hymen and she would scream when her hymen breaks.

So, Collin takes her panties and puts it in her mouth, and again covers it with his hand.

Now, using all his strength, Collin pushes himself further in. His dick goes all the way inside her pussy, tearing the virgin wall. She screams like hell, but her sounds are muffled by her panties and Collin's hand. She struggles and beats her hands on the bed.

Collin stays still like that for some seconds and removes the panty. He immediately puts his mouth there and starts kissing her. She gives light screams into his mouth. Collin gets up and covers her mouth again, and slowly start fucking her.

For initial strokes, she screams. But gradually, her screams come down to moans. Hearing her moans makes Collin hornier and he increases his speed. He gets hold of her boobs and presses them hard. She covers her mouth and enjoys his fucking.

Collin fucks her like a stud horse. He plays with her nipples, pulling and pinching them. When he senses his orgasm building, he removes his dick out of her pussy and strokes fast, as he didn't want to cum in her. Collin had the best orgasm of his life, and he erupted like never before. His hot cum flew out of his dick and landed on Mani's face, boobs, and stomach.

After Collin completely drains his juice, he looks at her and sees that she is all covered in white liquid from his dick.

She hasn't had another orgasm yet, so Collin immediately puts his fingers to work and inserts them straight into her fuck hole. Collin tells her to cover her mouth and finger fucks her pussy furiously.

He finds her g-spot and presses it hard. She squirts her juices out and breathes heavily.

He lay beside her and they share a passionate kiss. Collin then lifts her in his arms, takes her to the bathroom and cleans her up.

There was blood all over the bed. They remove sheets and sleep naked cuddling up. In the morning, Mani takes the bedsheet and blanket, and later throws them away in a pond.

After that day, both have countless fucks, exploring the world of sex.

by Boneranil for Literotica.

Guide For Deflowering A Man

Snowden Speaks — Sat, 22 Feb 2025 11:18:00 -0600

Former fundamentalist begins her ministry to virgin men.
By April601. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

In my early 20’s I dated a guy named Terry. He was a nice enough guy, very respectful and polite. He was my age and not the typical bad guy type that for some reason I seemed to attract or was it I was attracted to?
I began dating him and soon realized he was on the more serious side. Honestly, I didn’t expect that he could hold my attention for more than a couple of dates.
After somewhat of a wild start to my sexual journey I reached a point of self-respect and I had established a few ground rules for myself that I tried to follow. The first rule being that I tried not having sex on the first date! Well, I tried anyway; bless my heart. If I managed to get by that crucial rule, I had made up a few more hypothetical rules.
First dates were limited to heavy kissing only.
Second dates limited to touching, exploring. I would allow my date to touch my breasts and I would go no further than rubbing his groin thru his pants.
Third dates maybe a hand job.
Fourth dates possibly a blowjob, and
If we made it the fifth date there were no limits.
I thought these were reasonable limits for semi-nice girls, which I considered myself as being. If you haven’t heard how I was still a naive, shelter, fundamentalist virgin when an older married man deflowered me, we’ll need to have that conversation; because it explains a lot of my personal journey and progression toward sexual awareness of myself. It also added to my empathy for others with retarded sexual awareness in adulthood.
I remember telling several of my dates these rules but honestly, I don’t ever recall a time when I was able to really stick to them; except with Terry.
My first date with Terry ended with us just kissing and making out in his car. It was all pretty tame and controlled overall. He was polite and seemed to respect the limits and restrictions I was trying to follow.
Some guys are just terrified of sexual intimacy; and need encouragement and affirmation. Some guys are raised to think that all women view sex as dirty male desires, that women inwardly abhor, and only tolerate in marriage arrangements.
After our second date we again began to make out in his car. As things started to heat up with Terry, I reached into his pants to do an assessment of his manhood. I liked what I felt as it appeared to be a good size and worthy of a third date. Never being the patient type, I unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. Yes, I know; I broke my second date rule.
As I began to play with my new toy, Terry stopped me and said he had something important to tell me. Really? I’m stroking your cock, and you want to stop and talk? This was a first for me.
He sheepishly told me he was a virgin! What! Really! He now had my attention. I wasn’t sure if I believed him. I thought maybe he was playing games to entice me into having sex with him. He was a good-looking guy but a bit on the shy side, so maybe I could see it. I guess I must have overreacted as he immediately went limp. I apologized and that was pretty much the end of the date.
I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Is this good or bad? Should I go on a third date or run?
The next day I called my friend Jenny. She always had answers. I told her everything and wanted her take on the situation. Not to be mean but we did have a good laugh over it. Jenny had never been with a virgin before either. We both pondered over it and the more we discussed it the more intrigued we both became. We jokingly came up with the term “Virgin Boy.” But his sudden limpness was a result of my failure. He needed me to help him overcome his insecurity, and I’d just magnified it, instead. I owed him a do-over, if he’d even let me have another chance.
Jenny pointed out that guys think about sex hundreds of times a day. So if I were his first, he would probably then think of me every day for the rest of his life. Wow what an emotionally powerful thought that was.
“Imagine being his very first, the first girl he has sex with. You will always be remembered as ‘The One’,“ she said. “The one he lost his virginity to. You will always be special to him. You will forever be engraved in his memory. Even when he gets married; when he is 40 and is mindlessly daydreaming on his drive to work; when he gets old and reminisces; it will always be you that he thinks of when he thinks of his very first time.”
The more we talked about it the more we realized what a great opportunity this was. I think the thought of taking his virginity was turning us both on. By the end of the evening with Jenny, it was decided I would be his first.
But we also agreed that it had to be special, not just a quick hump in the car. This was becoming a huge responsibility for me. I had to do it right. It had to be extra special. I felt an obligation to make it special.
Jenny was dying to meet Terry so when he called for a third date, I told him my friend Jenny would be joining us. We all met at a bar and Jenny loved him. She gave me her approval but also had a suggestion. “How about for his first time he has a threesome with both of us? How special and memorable would that be!” I had threesomes with Jenny before during vacations, so it wasn’t out of the question. I told her I would have to think about it. I did have concerns, though.
A threesome sounded like a great idea but I knew that Terry would end up remembering Jenny and not me. Jenny was a bombshell. She was gorgeous and outgoing. Bigger curves, cute as fuck, guys were drawn to her like a magnet, that’s one of the reasons I loved hanging around with Jenny. She could be overbearing also. Sure, Terry would love to have sex with Jenny but what about me? What about me being “the one”?
As the weeks went on, I was doing my best to refrain from sex with Terry. He was cute and nice but really, he wasn’t anything special, he was just too serious for me. But Terry was a virgin, and this made him special to me. Taking his virginity was all I could think of. If he wasn’t a virgin, I’m sure there wouldn’t have been a third date. He was in my head or was it his virginity that was in my head. I was determined to take his virginity.
Up until this point I had dated older guys, and I was having sex on a fairly regular basis. With Terry I was not doing well without sex. Terry thought I was the good girl type by not having sex. Yes, I was sweet and innocent looking. But the lack of sex and the erotic thoughts about taking a young man’s virginity were driving me crazy. Self-gratification definitely increased during this waiting period.
I finally told Jenny that I wanted Terry for myself. I wanted him to remember me, not ‘Jenny and that other girl’. Besides it was me going without sex all these weeks. I needed his full attention. Jenny seemed a bit disappointed, but she understood.
Jenny and I came up with a plan. As both Terry and I still lived at home I suggested a weekend away in Niagara Falls. The honeymoon capital of North America, how appropriate was that?