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A smart girl asks an experienced boy for a favor.
Melissa Moore was the smartest girl I ever knew, at least before I got to college. She was one of those kids who crawled out of the crib reading her picture books. She was so smart, but she didn’t flaunt it, she just got her A’s and smiled. So I was surprised when she came and sat across from me at lunch when we were both juniors. She was a very pretty girl with a rapidly maturing body, fun to look at and think about, and she dressed kind of casually.

“Got a question?” she said, with a grin.

I nodded and chewed.

“Is sex all boys think about?” she looked serious, so I didn’t laugh, I just nodded.

“Really, nothing else?”

“Sports sometimes, like football now and basketball later and then baseball.”

“So how often do you think about it. About sex I mean?” her forehead was wrinkled like she was worried.

I laughed and several people looked at us.

“Let’s go outside,” I suggested. She followed me and we sat in the shade, side by side but not touching, knees up. I hardly knew her.

‘Well?” she asked. I noticed she had some freckles.

“Boys think about girls a lot. About their bodies mainly and about sex, which they of course do not understand, but know they want to do, have to do, I guess. It’s a drive you know, copulation.”

“But you do, I mean, you’ve done it so do you understand it?” she sniffed.

“Not really, but I’ve done it more than most guys my age I guess. I still think about regularly, all the time.” I was surprised that she knew I was experienced, lawn cutting and grass widows had taught me a lot, a real lot!

“Somebody told me that. It’s why I asked you.”

I nodded and wondered who.

“All the time?”

I nodded and she got up and walked away.

The next day she was back at lunch. “I need to ask another question.” She sniffed and looked around. “Does it hurt?”

“Let’s go outside,” I said, trying not to smile and hoping I was going to get a chance to show her whether it hurt or not. She was one of the prettiest girls in the whole damn school. Anyhow, we sat in the same place.

“Sometimes it hurts,” I said. “Especially the first time. It varies.”

“Explain.” She exhaled.

“Well, are you a virgin? Do you have a hymen, an intact hymen?”

She shook her curly head. “I tore it horseback riding. I guess some of it’s left.”

“It’s called cherry popping. Boys call it that. Penetrating the hymen, a whole one, it can hurt.”

She nodded. “That all?”

I licked my lips feeling my cock swelling. Just talking about it made me horny. “Probably hurts young women, and maybe men, more than older ones. Depends on size and, well, consideration. Rape’s got to hurt. It’s violent. Making love shouldn’t hurt.”

She nodded and looked away.

We sat there silently for a while.

“Why’d you ask?”

“Heard girls talking about doing it.”

“Curious, huh?”

She nodded.

“You want to try, try to do it?”

“What did you mean about size?”

“Well, sometimes the boy’s organ is very small, or the girl’s birth canal is. Maybe he is big so they don’t fit together right, easily. That might hurt, hurt one or the other, maybe both. I don’t know.” I looked at her, and she sniffed and shook her head. I knew mine was pretty big.

“I’d like to do it, I mean before I get to college. You’ve done it haven’t you?”

I nodded. “A few times.” Like a few dozen times. I did not smile, but it took some effort.

“So would you do me?”

“Of course,” I said eagerly, just a bit embarrassed. “Where and when?”

“Does talking about it get you excited?” She put her hand down right on my bulging groin.

I laughed, and she took her hand away quickly.

“It does, doesn’t it?”

I nodded.

“Nobody’s home at my house after school.”

“You ride the bus, right?”

“Number twelve.”

“I’ll be there. We can get started today.”


“If you like it, we can do it a lot, as often as you want.”

“I’ll think about that. I’m just curious.”

“Intellectual exercise?” I said.

She laughed and trotted away.

I watched her go and admired her slim shape, her whole body, her rounded buttocks. My brain was busy, a new piece of ass, a virgin, hot damn. I had enjoyed a couple and got extra pleasure out of their shock.

So after school I got on her bus and sat near the front and when she got off along with two other kids, I followed and then we walked to her house and went in the back door.

She put down her backpack and turned to face me, and I gathered her in and we kissed, nicely, gently but for a good while, rubbing our bodies together.

She took my hand and led me down to the basement where there was a very nice playroom with a pool table that had a ping-pong top.

“Can we do it here?” she asked, her voice a bit quivery.

We sat and we kissed and fumbled at each other’s clothes, and pretty soon she didn’t have any on, and I was untying my shoes. Then, I went down on her and licked and sucked and nibbled and probed like some of the women had taught me. She squealed and climaxed and then I got to work on her little clit and brought her off again, while she held my head into her almost-hairless pussy and whimpered.

It was time to do the thing. My cock was steel hard and my balls were aching.

I kissed her small, round breasts and her neck and her mouth and she asked, “Do I need to suck it?”

I shook my head, as I spread her legs with my knee.

“I heard some girls talk about doing that.”

“Don’t do it. Spreads germs. It’s a nasty thing to do.” I didn’t tell how many bjs I had enjoyed.

She nodded, as my big horn probed, seeking an entrance.

“Reach down and put it where you want it.”

She nodded and grasped my rigid member with thumb and forefinger, stroked her slit and then pushed it in and shuddered, eyes closed.

I felt the head pop through her lips and her flesh close behind the ridge.


She looked up at me and shook her head. “It’s too big.”

I pushed and she yielded. She was no longer a virgin.

“There,” I said, rearing up above her, maybe two or three inches in, “you’ve done it. That enough?” My cock flexed and jumped, obviously wanting more friction. She shuddered.

“You want to stop?” she asked.

“Of course not, but I don’t have a condom with me and, well, it’s not a good idea.”

“Pull it out. I know where Daddy keeps his.”

I eased back and it came out with a wet slurping noise and bounced off my abs. She scrambled away, ran up the steps and was back in a minute with three Trojans. She jiggled when she ran, very arousing. I actually got harder and oozed out my lube.

She sat on my knees and looked at it standing there, quivering. Then she looked at me, blinked and stared at my rigid cock again. “It is big, isn’t it?”

I nodded and tore open a package with my teeth and handed her the rubber circle. “Put it over my glans and stretch it down slowly, down the shaft, gently.”

She nodded and did it, breathing loudly. It felt great, much as I hated rubbers.

It went about two-thirds of the way down my shaft, and she petted it some. I use Magnums when I have to wear the stupid things.

“So that wasn’t fucking, what we did?” she asked, lying down beside me, hugging me.

“Uh uh, just penetration, or intercourse. I guess legally it’s all the same, but it isn’t, not really.”

“Your thing feels hot.”

“Don’t say thing. You’re a smart girl; you know the names of parts. It’s full of blood. That’s what makes it hard.”

She nodded. “I know. Penis, right?”

I kissed her and rolled over atop her. She spread her legs and lifted her knees. I eased it back into her once and got it lubricated with her juices. She whimpered and rocked her pelvis up a bit, and I waited. When I felt her vagina pulsing, I started shoving until it was all the way up in her. “Now,” I said, “we can begin.”

All she did was exhale and then lift her legs higher and wrap them around me, as I began to fuck her with long, hard, deep thrusts.

Once we were in synch, I speeded up, and the only sounds were the both of us grunting and our bodies slapping together.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah,” she gasped.

“Ungh, ungh, ungh, ungh,” I grunted.

And then she shuddered and arched her back and climaxed under me. Very few girls, or women do that while I’m fucking them. I was at top speed, a blur of friction and my balls were in turmoil. I gritted my teeth and ejaculated as her pussy milked my rod repeatedly, crushing and relaxing, as she enjoyed an extended orgasm of some sort.

We fell apart, gasping for breath, and I stripped off the rubber and slipped another one on while she lay beside me sobbing happily.

I rolled her over and eased it into her from behind. She shook her head and gasped, “No, enough. Don’t.”

So I pulled it out and stumbled off to the bathroom where I ran cold water on my rod until it relaxed.

I rolled in beside her and held her. “That was fucking,” I said.

She nodded. “Thanks.”

“I think I’d better go home.”

She nodded. I think she was crying.

I left.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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