I awoke the next morning after a night of intense lucid dreams with no recollection of how I had ended up in my own bed. All I remembered was venting my unmet desire to get laid with a quick, loveless wank. It took me a while to realize Emily had come to my room to wake me up.
She was gently rubbing my cheek with the back of her hand when she spoke, “Rise and shine, sleepyhead. Breakfast is ready?”
I looked at her through half-closed, drowsy eyes and mumbled something unintelligible about sleeping some more.
“C'mon, it's half-past eight in the morning and we've got stuff to do,” she explained. “You know, basic calculus, some chemical equations too. You can take a nap for as long as you want to after our tutoring session.”
My spirits reluctantly came back to me. That was the moment I realized I was almost completely dehydrated. My throat was burning—as were my eyes. Compared to Emily, I felt like a zombie. Given her state merely a few hours before, how was she so full of life again?
“Here, I brought you a glass of water,” Emily said, handing me the container. “Judging from the color of your eyes, you were pretty stoned. Rough night?”
I nodded and downed the contents of the glass in a single sip.
“You bet,” I began after catching my breath. “Jenny's stuff is killer. Knocked me right out.”
She chuckled, “Warned you,” and stood up. “I made breakfast. There's bacon, eggs. I found some toast and honey. Hope that suits you?”
My face lit up as much as my ongoing detoxification allowed. “Whoa, really? Bacon? You're really spoiling me here. Too bad my parents only hired you for such a short period.”
“Oh you,” she commented, the brightest smile on her face and kissed my forehead while tousling my hair like a little brother's.
Luckily, I was too tired to try to interpret this in any way. Otherwise, my head would have gone ballistic with speculations and hypotheses on what she meant with that gesture and where it put me in our relationship. I just stepped out of bed, not even bothering about hiding my prominent morning wood that poked through my boxer briefs. I didn't even notice it until I heard Emily gasp and saw what her eyes were glued on and the hunger that briefly flashed in them. In my current state of mind, I couldn't care less. All I cared for was a stiff drink—of water, gallons of water—and a hefty breakfast to regain my spirits. I could bother with everything else later.
While eating—no, more gulping like a starving beggar—my share of bacon and two eggs, I barely remembered my table manners and spoke with my mouth half-filled, “Oh man, breakfast bacon never tasted that good, Emily.” So that was the notorious hangover food everyone was talking about. “Thank you for this awesome breakfast.”
She smiled at me while leisurely—much in contrast to me—poking around in her plate. “Just like yesterday, I felt I had to make it up to you so don't get used to it.”
“Ah yeah, that. I almost forgot,” I lied, trying to put her at ease. “It's no big deal, but if you wanna talk about it, I'm ready to listen.” As inconsiderate of a teenager I was, I didn't leave her time to reply and added, “What happened, actually?”
Emily frowned and lowered her gaze. “I wanted to get laid yesterday. I really did.”
She paused, in- and exhaled deeply, let out a heavy sigh, then resumed, “Don't get any ideas, but our little trip to the creek got me horny alright.”
She hesitated and blushed before she went on, her voice cracking just a little, “...and catching you masturbate while moaning my name did its part too.”
I swallowed hard on her last remark, unable to take my eyes off her reddened cheeks.
She paused to let the words sink in. She licked her lips, pouted them, nibbled on them in a nervous way until she caught up with her train of thought again. “Yeah... so I've had my eyes on Kevin for a while now. Aside from that he's a total dick, rumor has it he's a good fuck and I knew he wanted me.”
I had spent enough intimate moments with Emily that knowing she wanted another guy was pretty much a punch in the belly. But why? I had no right to claim her, let alone a chance with her. Of course, she wouldn't be interested in me. All she had said and done was to help me feel more at ease with my developing sexuality, right?
What was I even wracking my brains about? She was my babysitter—emphasis on baby—end of fucking story!
Her continued narration interrupted my self-loathing. “I knew I could get him if I wanted to. Only, he's not just the dimwit you saw yesterday, he's also an insanely jealous macho. That guy's just mental, I swear. We were getting along great. He's a terrific flirt—had my panties soaked in no time—but that's about the only good quality he has to offer.”
“As I was saying, we were having a good time when I saw Jenny kiss you and share that blunt with you and I just... just felt that horrible pang of jealousy in my chest. I don't know where that came from but I felt kinda powerless, you know. Although it was just one single kiss, I so wanted to protect you from her. Oh, who am I kidding? I wanted to be in her place and kiss you! It was as if she had taken you from me.”
Hearing her confession, my mouth fell open. As if on cue, my hormone-driven spirits awoke anew to let my stomach churn in reaction.
“Kevin didn't like me being distracted by you. Not one bit. He went on a rant on how looking at other guys made me a slut blah blah blah and so on. Dude has serious problems! I could have walked away but I was afraid he might be unpredictable so I waited until he had calmed down a couple minutes later. Also, I was pretty wasted already and misjudged it to be a good idea to keep hanging around with him. I don't know, maybe I wanted to distract myself from Jenny having her hands all over you. Fucking hormones... I suffer from them too, you know?”
I gulped down the lump in my throat in a vain attempt to make my heart stop pounding.
“I excused myself to the bathroom and told him I'd come back with drinks too. This way, at least, it wouldn't make him go berserk if I ran into someone else for a quick chat—or so I hoped. The thing is, I didn't come very far. Seeing Jenny and you glued together like that made me pretty sick. At that very moment, every cell in my body hated that bitch's guts. I felt tears swell in my eyes when I saw the way you were entangled together on that couch. I don't know where that came from, but yeah, as I said, I was fairly drunk by then. Before I realized I was staring at you again, Kevin slapped me. The rest is history.”
I didn't know what to say. She, the girl of my dreams, had just thoroughly confessed she'd been jealous of another girl making out with me. What was that supposed to mean? She was drunk, dumbass! Get that out of your head!
She had delivered her elaborations with an expression of melancholy mixed with an unmet desire. I thought I was seeing tears in her eyes and had heard her trying to suppress a heavy sigh.
“S-sorry, uh, to be the, uh, the... cause of your incident,” I tried to comfort her. What the hell are you talking about, goof?
She started chuckling. “Oh, sweetie. As if it were your fault. If anything, I have to thank you. You spared me the embarrassment of hooking up with that douche.”
She stood up and walked around the table to me. She was still only dressed in the loose shirt and panties she wore as pajamas but... were those sexy laced panties I saw flashing under the hem of her shirt? I swallowed when I noticed. What was she intending with that attire? Getting my attention? She sure had it—undivided.
She stood right beside me, bending over, her breath almost palpable on my cheek, when she spoke, “Thank you, Jackson, also for showing me who I really care for.” She paused, then coyly added, “And thank you for not sleeping with me last night.”
She planted a peck on my cheek. Not a quick one; and rather close to the corner of my mouth. She lingered just long enough to evoke an urge to return the kiss. Not knowing what to do, I just looked at her, unable to blink while my tongue tried to lick the spot her lips had been touching. And what was that supposed to mean? '...who she really cared for.' Was she implying... Just a poor choice of words. Had to be. Or was I still stoned and hearing things?
While my mind was still deep in its hormone-biased teenage turmoil regarding my chances of scoring with her, my mouth, out of nowhere, as though completely detached from the last ounce of sanity which just happened to lurch through that murky soup that governed my thoughts, blurted out the stupidest question imaginable, “Emily, do you want to be my girlfriend?” What the actual fuck, dude! Have you completely lost it?
“I beg your pardon?” she asked me with surprise before bursting out in laughter. “Oh, sweetie, that's the cutest thing I've ever heard.”
Despite knowing I'd get rejected, I felt how my chest started feeling heavy and my diaphragm was ready to jerk as my tear sacs swelled to the size of basketballs.
She put her hand on my cheek to comfort me. “Jackson, I'm not gonna turn you down right away, okay? But let's not get ahead of ourselves. We've still got plenty of work to do and I don't want you to be distracted by anything, okay? How about we do some chemistry and then we'll talk about it again. How's that?”
No immediate rejection but a scheduled one. What the hell was that even supposed to mean? Well, better than nothing, right? At least I tried—even if I wasn't myself when I did. Still counts. To my great surprise, indeed, knowing I'd get the official rejection later, put the upcoming surge of frustration to a complete halt. It made way for utter confusion, actually. Still, she was right, probably—to some extent at least. I had a head that was busy with something other than frustration from yet another rejection. It was, leastwise, clear enough for the tutoring lesson. Am I making any sense here? Chemistry... Blegh! At least the teacher was an eye-candy. That was nice.
The first hour went well and we managed to resolve some of the major issues I had. I came to realize that reaction equations and stoichiometry were not that difficult after all. Despite the pending verbal ass-whooping, I was quasi certain to receive, I was able to focus and retain some stuff.
After a quick coffee refill break, nevertheless, I found it more difficult to stay concentrated. I caught myself more often than not peeking at the wall clock. Every time the minute hand clicked forward, it felt like a growing threat and I gradually became afraid of the impending lecture on how stupid and childish I was to ask Emily out. While my insides churned every now and then, she had to keep reminding me to focus on the lesson. I couldn't fail to notice how she too allowed her thoughts to digress whenever she thought I wasn't paying attention to her.
Truth be told, I was virtually unable to pay attention to anything else but her and her appealing looks. Why was she still in her pajamas? I constantly had to remind myself of her words. 'Not gonna turn you down right away,' she had said in a tone that suggested she'd wanted to add, 'but will do later.' Had I heard right? What else would she reply to such a ridiculous question? Cute she kept calling me. And sweetie. Those are not the expressions you use when speaking to a lover. What had I been thinking? Then again, hadn't she once said she preferred guys who talk turkey? Get her out of your head, moron!
“Jackson, chemistry!” she reminded me of the purpose of our lesson again, tapping my notes with her pen.
I tried to look at the problem we were working on. Enthalpy and reaction dynamics? Are you kidding me? Not exactly the best material to distract a pubescent sixteen-year-old from the will of his loins and his mental battle against the various voices in his head that fought for which one was the reasonable and rational one—none of them if you ask me.
I scribbled something and tried to rearrange the mathematical equation to find the expression for the unknown variable. While I did so, I thought I'd see Emily looking at me and nibbling on her bottom lip in the corner of my eye. I closed my eyes and shook my head in a vain attempt to shift my focus back to the problem sheet.
I hardly managed to solve the equation. Once done so, I swallowed a tremendous lump in my throat. I looked at Emily. Startled, she blushed slightly and turned her head away as if to hide she had been staring at me. Realizing what she was doing, she looked at me again and tried an awkward smile. I knew she was just trying to be friendly but I was at the point of bursting out into tears and apologizing for being such a stupid kid, the latter point being the less embarrassing one.
I swallowed again, put the pen down and, hardly succeeding in suppressing my sobs, said, “I can't do this anymore. You said you wanted to talk this out. Just turn me down already and give me that lecture on how foolish and childish I am. I don't know how I'll take it but I know damn sure that I can't stand—“
Her finger on my lips silenced me.
“Jackson, I...” she began, her gaze unsteady and insecure.
I protested, “Oh, give it to me already. You were the one who said you like talking straight. I'm ready—“
Now it was her lips against mine that made me shut up—for good this time. I was bamboozled. Can't find a better word: bamboozled!
Her tone was pissed. “That straight enough for you? Will you just let me think for a second, please? Look, Jackson, I want to be your girlfriend. I really do.”
Suddenly, all voices in my head shouted in unison, 'What?'
“...but,” she hesitantly continued, “I can't. It would be stupid. I'd love to just take you to college with me but that's not gonna happen, obviously.” She struggled for more words. “You know, I... when I postponed my, uh, decision... uh, I did it because... because I wanted to buy some time. I really like you, Jackson, but... I hate to say 'but' but... Shit, I'm just... confused. Agh! I kinda grew, uh, fond of, yeah, uh, you, you know and...”
Suddenly, I expressed the only brain fart my dumb teenage mind was capable of producing, given the circumstances, “So just be my girlfriend for these couple of days. You said you wanted to teach me how to handle girls, so teach me.”
Befuddled, she looked at me. With a crooked smile, she slowly shook her head and lifted a single eyebrow.
She mouthed something inaudible before finding her voice again. “You're incredible. That's the weirdest, yet the sweetest thing I've ever heard,” she chuckled. Talking slowly, she added, “I think your idea is not bad. Not bad at all. Just...” She paused to think. “Promise me one thing: I'm bad with farewells. Please don't make a scene when your parents come back and I have to leave, okay?”
Whoa, like, really? Was that a yes? Best. Deal. Ever. For a sixteen-year-old, that is. Hell yeah!
I swallowed once more and began talking before my Adam's apple was back into its correct position, “Sure. Sounds terrific.”
“'Terrific', he says. Will you listen to yourself. You just scored with your babysitter and all you can say is 'terrific'?” she chided. “Will you at least seal your promise with a kiss?”
Hesitantly, I planted a quick peck on her lips.
“That's what you call a kiss? You're supposed to be overjoyed, jump me and lavish me with kisses. I am your girlfriend now!” she scolded. “You wanted a lesson in being a boyfriend? So here's your first lesson: show some emotions, dammit! Make out with me like you did with that Jenny slut!”
Now, if this was not encouraging... I held myself back no longer. We started making out like the love-crazed teenagers we both were, canoodling as if there was no tomorrow. Lots of tongue, lots of sucking, lots of spit.
As suddenly as we had begun, she broke our affectionate exchange of saliva to rebuke me some more, “What are you still being shy about? Hands! Touch me already! I wanna feel your hands all over me.”
Her wish was my command. I let my hands travel all over her back, entangled my fingers with her hair, caressed her neck, went under her shirt to rub her belly, ran over her thighs. Only her breasts and crotch I considered off-limits so far.
It was like a dream. Every kiss I gave and was returned filled my stomach with an unprecedented lightness. It evoked sensations I had never felt before. Sure, lust for this fresh girlfriend of mine, but also feelings of need, desire and happiness. My heart was light; filled with joy and excitement.
We parted and looked at each other. I simply couldn't wipe that goofy smirk off my face. Her radiant smile she gave me in response made my heart melt.
“Look at us going like idiots,” she laughed. Then, she teased, “You kiss very well, Jackson. Nothing to teach you here.”
My cheeks flushed red, I shot back, “Oh, I'm sure there's plenty of things you can still teach me.”
“Not so fast, you greedy little kid. First, we'll finish this exercise sheet, then we'll see. The better you apply yourself, the sooner you'll get to see more of me,” she kept taunting.
Her teasing worked wonders; I gave my best to solve the problems and succeeded in record time for my standards. It was shortly before noon.
“See, wasn't that hard, now was it?” came her compliments. “Now let's have some food. I got the major munchies. And after that, let's just slouch in the garden the whole afternoon, alright?”
For lunch, we fixed some quick sandwiches. Right after, Emily suggested we change into our swimwear to bask in the afternoon sun. Just as it had been the day before, my eyes nearly popped out when I lay them upon this smoking beauty in her bikini.
"Earth to Jackson! Earth to Jackson!" she kept repeating when she caught me ogling. In her hand, she had a bottle of sunscreen. “Wanna spread this over your girlfriend's body?"
I wordlessly nodded yes, mouth still agape like a retard.
She took my hand and lead the way out. "Mind your step. Don't slip on your own drool."
For whatever reason, I couldn't prevent myself from making a total fool out of myself in front of her. What was there to be afraid of? She had a firm lead in our fresh relationship. All I needed to do was follow. With her, I felt safe and at ease.
I smiled as I brushed my thoughts off.
"What?" she asked, commenting on my stupid grin. "Is there something in my face?"
"No," I replied like in a haze. "You're just beautiful, is all."
She blushed and pressed the bottle of sunscreen into my torso.
"Stop it, you," she chirped in playful annoyance. "Will you rub me in?" she added, letting her chest swell to present it better and slowly pivoting her body from side to side.
I gulped from the sexy sight. Much to her amusement, only a forced 'sure' left my throat.
She sat down on the grass and put her pigtail on her shoulder to let me access her back. When applying the lotion, I gave my best at keeping my cool and not appearing all too eager to touch her as I feared it would make a bad impression. The hardest part in that regard was the waistline of her bikini bottoms. Since I didn't want her to get burnt, I allowed my fingers to slip under the rubber strap just a bit but made sure not to grope her butt.
When done, I handed her the bottle to which she casually commented, "And the front?"
I came back with a shy 'okay' and did her legs first. As I came up to her crotch, she spread her legs to let me access her groin. Obviously, she wasn't planning on getting the upmost part of her thighs burned either. I hesitantly carried out the same procedure as with her butt. She teased me by gasping low enough for me to hear but ask myself if I was just imagining things. A quick peek at her knowing smirk let me know she was just playing with me. My cock, on the other hand, gradually developed a life of its own.
Next, I applied the lotion to her belly, trying hard to focus on spreading it evenly. I desperately tried to calm my swelling erection which was—how else would it be—not even remotely willing to cooperate.
I did her belly and shoulders too and felt my tense body relax when it was finally over. Only then I realized I had been making a fool out of myself by putting too much effort in trying not to make a fool out of myself instead of just enjoying the fact that she let me touch her basically everywhere.
"Ahem," she demonstratively cleared her throat. She pressed her upper arms together and thus displayed her luscious bosom. "Boobs too, Jackson."
I blushed through several hues of red but willingly complied with the order. I mustered all my courage and applied the thick lotion to her chest too; this time, though, making sure I was enjoying it, however brief of a pleasure it was.
She kissed me long and deep when I handed her the bottle. She thanked me and told me to sit down as she had done. I sat down cross-legged so my bulge wouldn't be all that obvious and only hesitantly opened my legs to grant her access to my thighs. Luckily, my swimming trunks were long and sturdy enough that she didn't have to go up my thighs far enough to touch my obnoxious hard-on. With these circumstances in my favor, I allowed myself to relax.
Once we were done applying the sunscreen, we lay down in the grass. We cuddled up and, after exchanging a few kisses and touches, passed into a comfortable afternoon doze in the half shade of a tree until the early hours of the evening.
When I opened my eyes again, the first thing I saw was Emily smiling through half-closed eyes. I planted a quick kiss on her lips and cupped her cheek with my hand.
“Hey, I'm starving,” she said. “How about some ice cream?”
“My parents always say it's not against hunger it's for gormandizing but yeah, sure. We got plenty of Ben & Jerry's,” I retorted, liking her suggestion. The parents weren't home so who was gonna prevent us from having a whole ice cream bucket each?
We did just that, sitting in the garden lawn with a large bucket each, scooping away the cold deliciousness, comparing our silliest brain freeze faces until both buckets were empty. We just lay there, our stomachs full with frozen treats, almost to the point of vomiting from the sheer amount of sugar and fat. I began to understand why an ice cream dinner was not the best idea. At least we were young and didn't have to worry about burning all the calories. Hooray for teenage metabolism!
After a while of moaning the pain of our overstretched stomachs, I rolled over and planted a playful peck on her lips. She kissed me back and soon, I felt her hands roaming my back. Our kissing grew more daring, our touches turned to exploration and eventually, making out became wrestling and laughing.
Our fighting was intense and playful. We kept switching positions, tried to pin each other down, tried to leave marks of affection on each other's bodies, tried to bite each other. To me, it was all new, unexplored, exciting. It filled my heart with an unknown, fiery, yet pleasant warmth. I was keen to indulge further into the bliss of love and blooming in this uncharted territory. Still, I dared to touch neither her boobs nor her butt as these insecurities still prevailed while my raging boner spoke another language.
After a while, a need for release arose in my loins. Every time the tip of my erection came to contact with her—any part of her—I gasped unconsciously and became hornier. I heard her breathing become more labored as well and noticed she would blow the warm air from her lungs to specific areas on my skin, causing goosebumps and an even deeper lust for her.
I felt my strength weaken with my growing lust. As I could not defend myself anymore, she climbed atop, pinned my wrists to the ground and positioned her crotch right on my rigid rod. I let out a surprised moan. We looked at each other, sweating, panting.
She lowered her body to kiss me. I felt her hips move slowly to dry-hump my cock. She moaned into my mouth. Our kisses turned hotter and wetter, longer and with more and more tongue.
Soon, I felt my impending release boil in my groin. To both my surprise and displeasure, that was the exact moment she stopped moving and stopped making out with me. She looked at me for a while, not moving, sending a renewed jolt of insecurity through my head. Had I done something wrong? Was she grossed out by my erection?
"Is something wrong?" I asked, a great discomfort in my heart.
"No, I'm just looking at the boy I'm gonna drag into the shower," she whispered. "You poor little thing, I bet your balls are all blue by now. I'm all sweaty and sticky from the sun lotion. I know just what we need: a good shower with a surprise."
I gulped hard. I had a faint idea what that surprise could be but didn't dare to picture it or ask her; I didn't want to have expectations, nor did I want to appear as a greedy little brat.
She practically dragged me to the bathroom as if I was on drugs. I followed her more reluctantly than I intended. I didn't want her to see my raging boner and think I was just a pervo.
In the bathroom, she first undid her bra while I was ogling her without even trying to be discreet. First, she undid the neck strap, then the back strap with one hand while holding the cups before her breasts with the other. My eyes were simply glued to her bust.
She let out an amused sigh which turned my attention to her face where I found a huge, knowing grin. This reminded me that I was staring. Stupid kid! She winked at me before revealing my first glimpse of real breasts—other than my voyeuristic deed on the previous day. I blushed slightly and cleared my throat bashfully. She was good at this.
Pointing at the tent in my trunks, she chuckled, "Now are you just gonna stare at my boobs or am I gonna see something too?"
The color in my face turned to crimson. Pretty sure you could have fried an egg on my cheeks. I lowered my gaze in shame over my obvious excitement and braced myself for an angry lecture about conduct.
"Jackson," I heard her say in the softest tone. "You don't need to be ashamed. I'm your girlfriend. There's nothing I haven't seen," she painfully reminded me of the masturbation incident, causing me to retreat further into my self-consciousness.
She paused, lifted my head and forced eye contact.
Her gaze was kind and understanding. "I wouldn't have said yes if I found your erection or anything at all about you off-putting. You know that, Jackson. There's nothing you have to be ashamed of. I know you're afraid of doing things wrong—and you most probably will, but that's why we can talk and be honest with each other. Also, I'm here to help you get better at things, remember?"
Her words seemed to have the desired effect on me; I still felt tense but my confidence and curiosity started taking over again.
"Know what?" Emily began. "Before you get those trunks off, turn around."
"Okay?" I questioningly said but complied with her orders.
I did as told and soon felt her hands on my shoulders. Her fingers started kneading them with deep, firm, painful, yet pleasant strokes. She knew exactly where to apply pressure and how much. From that alone, my body squirmed just the slightest but upon her touch, moans emanated from my mouth.
"See, you're just a bit tense, is all," she commented, pleased with her expertise.
Before long, she let go of me. Immediately, I felt more relaxed and at ease. My erection too had decided to fall back into its habitual stand-by state.
"Wow, your hands are amazing!" I exclaimed.
She winked, unlaced the waistband knot of her bikini bottoms with a single hand and let them fall to the floor, revealing my first-ever glimpse of trimmed pussy. A landing strip. My favorite! How did she know?
"Just you wait until I got them working on your tool, lover," she teased before undoing my trunks as well. Now that the tent was struck, she was able to do it before any of my teenage insecurities could kick back in.
Rather than retreating into my self-consciousness again, I mustered all my courage to appear bold by taking her hand and lead her to the shower. Holding the shower door open, I invited her in, "After you, M'lady," and congratulated myself on my courteousness. Very subtle! Good job! Way to go!
On top of that, I was so relaxed that, despite her pronounced scent and my juvenile excitement, I was not even sporting a semi.
Emily set the water to a refreshing temperature which was cool enough to give me goosebumps at first. Trying not to appear like a wimp, I tried to conceal my shivering.
“You can tell me if it's too cold. I won't laugh, Jackson. We've had this discussion yesterday,” she said, an amused tone in her voice. “You really needn't prove to me you're a tough guy.”
I managed an eye-rolling, admitting smile. “Busted. But don't make the water hotter. I wanna tough it out. Besides,” I began, snapped my fingers, pointed at her and gave my best impression of a cheesy pick-up line, “the water's smoking hot thanks to you.”
She picked a peal of genuine laughter, holding her hand before her mouth. “Oh, you. C'mere, you,” she chuckled, approached me, put her arms around my neck and pulled me in for a full-body-contact, wet French kiss.
Oh, how my dick loved this! It sprang to life within seconds and tried to snake its way somewhere to be comfortably embedded in. Instinctively, I tried to pull my hips back, afraid Emily might find my premature erection repulsive. What for? Although still fresh as morning dew, she was my girlfriend, wasn't she? Also, she had given me all the signals that she wanted me—even told me so, right? So man up and grow some balls, dammit!
My inexperienced teen struggle was put to an abrupt halt when she pulled my hips close with one hand and started grinding her hips against my boner. Well, that was subtle.
She let go of me and gave me a brief stripper dance: she ran her hands down her sides, up her belly, cupped her breasts, a quick, perfectly timed batting of her eyes, her hands in her hair; all of this while lightly gyrating her hips to a rhythm only she seemed to hear. Even without the music, the sight was breathtaking. This time, much to her delight, I openly and shamelessly ogled her.
“How's that for a refreshment?” she asked, winking at me. Pointing at my painfully hard rod, she added, “The water is steaming on your cock. I'll take that as a good sign.”
Good sign, she said. You have no idea, girl, how you're messing with my so far unmet lust. Oh yeah, keep on shaking that booty, baby!
I knew better than ruining the moment—and her obvious desire for me—so I just goofily nodded in approval, finding it more fit to make a weird face than insulting her femininity by stupid comments like the abovementioned. Doesn't take a genius, does it?
Emily took me by surprise when she suddenly stepped close, nonchalantly grabbed my dick, started stroking it and whispered, “Are you ready for your surprise now?”
Dumbstruck, all I could manage was, “I-I-I thought the shower was the, uh, surprise.”
“No, dummy, I'm gonna give you a blowjob,” came her seductive reply.
“A what?” I yelled internally, barely managing to let my voice die in my throat.
Without any more words, she knelt down, the water still splashing onto both of us and, taking a good look at it, gave my dick two soft strokes and finally connected her lips to its tip. She opened her lips and very slowly, I felt my glans slide into her mouth while she kept her slow, steady pumping with her hand.
That was something completely new: the warmth of her mouth, the softness of her lips, her tongue tickling my forehead... All of it was unknown to me, exciting, arousing—so arousing even that before I was able to enjoy—let alone memorize—any of these sensations, I already felt my balls twitch beyond the point of no return. Surprised by my lack of stamina, my warning came too late too.
Emily let go of my cock and started jacking it hard and fast, pointing at her breasts. Afraid to stain her soft skin and disgust her, a part of me tried to break free from her grasp, yet she had her hands around my balls.
“Shoot on my boobs,” she commanded nodding and I complied as my first ever not self-inflicted orgasm ejaculated from me in several spasms and obnoxious grunts.
She let my shrinking pride go as she stood up again and kissed me. My world had just been turned upside down. For a brief instant, I was in heaven, still consumed by my orgasmic bliss.
I only realized Emily had an expecting look on her face when I heard her say, “What are you waiting for? My boobs are not gonna clean themselves off.”
Startled, I hastily unhooked the showerhead and rinsed her chest copiously with the cool water. She seemed to enjoy it.
As I hooked it back again and turned off the water, my juvenile insecurity kicked back in. The words just came out of me: “Sorry for being such a quick shot!” Yes, with the shyest, most boyish tone ever. Apologizing for coming from an intended blowjob? Really? Idiot!
She just smiled softly and understandingly. “I was expecting this to happen. That's why I gave you that blowjob before I let you fuck me, you know, so you'll last longer.”
Had I just heard right? Really? This chick—no, let me rephrase—my babysitter was gonna take my virginity? Best day of my life! Fuck yeah! My friends at school are so gonna hear about this!
That was all my hormones needed to start dancing anew. I was so lost in that juvenile daze of anticipation that I could recall how I had ended up standing in my bedroom naked with Emily lying on the bed, also naked, waiting for me to return the pleasure. I just stood there, trying to reconstruct the previous two minutes.
“Jackson,” Emily yanked me out of my mental freeze. Teasing, she added, “Weren't you the one who stormed out of the shower and I had to remind to dry himself before we get the action going? Are you gonna service that lady in your bed or what?”
Yeah, sounds a lot like me. Best impression of an impatient virgin teenager.
I swallowed, stepped to my bed and drank in the sight of my first girlfriend lying there, displaying all her beauty. Instead of a goofy grin, my mouth fell open. I gasped at the mere sight of her perfection. My heart pounded with adrenaline and the little remaining activity in my brain seemed to be a broken record on how I was going to profane this angel and get my dick wet for the first time.
All too eager, I threw myself on top of her and started dry-humping her while trying to find her labia with my cock. She burst in laughter from my ridiculous attempts at making love with her which made a fresh surge of shame arise in my belly. Yeah, what were you thinking, dude?
“Not so fast, Jackson,” she joyously admonished. “First I'm gonna get some foreplay too, okay? Touch me a bit for starters, will you?”
I could tell she was fighting not to make her hearty laughter turn into obnoxious guffawing, ridiculing my attempts at humping her. Giving my best shot at overcoming my shame instead of retracting into my self-conscious shell, I swallowed my pride and nodded, nervously nibbling on my lips.
I rolled off her and cupped her crotch with my hand. I clumsily looked for an entrance between those soft, fleshy folds. Just a few strokes passed and I found Emily moaning—or so I thought. What did I know? All I knew about moaning came from a certain segment of the entertainment industry where people got paid to moan. Now did this sound like moaning? Now that you ask me, it sounded more like pain, actually.
“Don't be so rough, Jackson, please,” Emily protested as politely as possible although, in her voice, I clearly heard a tone of displeasure. “Be gentle, please. Here.” She took my hand and led it to her entrance. “Take some of these juices and spread them all over my pussy lips, okay? With a light touch, will you? And look for a hard little nub. This is my clit. Make sure to stroke it plenty.”
That was mortifying. Even in bed, my babysitter had to keep tutoring me. Oh, the shame! Oh, will you just snap out of it and enjoy the moment, will ya? Of course, she's not expecting you to be good at this with that inexperience!
I took a deep breath to calm my insecurities and gave my best at following her advice. I tried to feel where her clit was, didn't seem to do an all too bad job since her breath calmed and sounded less painful. That was a good sign, right? What did I know? Being too shy to ask her, I just kept probing her pussy lips with my fingers. A few times, I thought I felt something pea-sized that felt like a tiny knot. Every time I touched it, Emily seemed to squirm and give out a moan which sounded a lot more like pleasure than it had before. Unfortunately, eager as I was to bring her to her own orgasm, my quest for the reproductivity of the desired result was just that bit too frantic, making her vocal emanations soon turn back to a more displeased variant.
“Jackson, please sleep with me,” she said in her softest tone, yet laden with unmistakable subtext.
My anticipation to lose my virginity still dominating, I renounced to asking her if I had really performed so terribly out of fear her honest answer would put my eagerness to a swift end and tear my fragile ego to shreds.
I picked a condom from the nightstand drawer. When I was tearing the aluminum wrapping open, she giggled, “Yeah, wrap that willy before you plunge it into the honey pot.”
Her silly comment made me realize two things: first, how stupid and off-turning such formulations which most of my male friends were fond of really sounded and second, how tense I was and how much the pressure for performance I felt was mostly self-inflicted. It helped me loosen up a bit by at least chuckling from the sheer fatuity of the expression.
“Need a hand with this?” she asked, meaning help with wrapping my willy.
“No, I'll manage, I think,” I shyly chirped, not sure, in fact, if I really knew how this worked.
I checked the orientation of the condom, placed the ring on my tip and held the sperm reservoir between the thumb and index of one hand. Then I made a ring with my index and thumb of the other hand to unroll the rubber. It felt very tight and uncomfortable and I had a hard time actually making the latex ring move down. I tried to suffocate a curse under my breath as I held my fingers more tightly around the condom. It only seemed to move with great effort.
Then it happened...
I had my fingers clenched around my mushroom so tightly that the very moment they brushed my frenulum once too many, I felt my balls twitch, my pelvic floor tense and my cum rising to be spilled across my bedsheets.
I tried to clench all my muscles in my body in order to prevent the inevitable from happening, yet with a seemingly endless stream of “no, no, no” becoming more and more desperate, I watched my spunk fill the reservoir of the still practically rolled condom until my dick reared up one last time, bent downwards and the condom fell off the shrinking head, spilling the better part of my cum on the mattress.
In fear of getting a lecture on how frustrated she was in my lack of performance, I hesitantly raised my tear-filled eyes to look at Emily. I was devastated. I had disappointed my girlfriend, wasted my perfect chance of learning how to please a girl properly, failed to make proof of my virility, lost against my teenage enthusiasm. I was worthless.
Although I could see the disappointment written all over her face, Emily took me in her arms, whispering soothing words I wouldn't hear because I was wallowing too deeply in my little misery.
She lay down, taking me with her to press my head against her chest, one arm wrapped around my shoulder, caressing my cheek with her free hand.
“I'm so sorry, Emily,” I sobbed against her breasts. “I'm completely useless.”
“Don't beat yourself up like that,” she whispered. “Happens to the best. There will be plenty of occasions where you can make this up to me, I promise.”
I could hear her efforts at consoling me but wouldn't listen to her. Heavy with grief, I felt how my body slowly relaxed and drifted into sleep. Just before falling into the cleansing embrace of the night, I realized the appeasing effect of feeling her boobs pressed against my face through which I heard the steady beat of her heart. So this was this famous pillow of heaven.
