My friends call me Pete or Pedey. Some of you will know Kim is my sister. She seemed to turn off boys after her experience at The Pines or, at least, off my friends. Maybe she’d only done what she had with them to have something to brag to her girlfriends about.
I came of age, sexually, the same summer she did. It was on an equally hot day. Kim was out somewhere and my friends and I decided to go to the river by ourselves, planning to swim at Bartons Rock (where there were likely to be other teens) and, in the back of our minds, hoping to get lucky.
In my case, that would be doing anything more than just kiss a girl.
The swimming hole was at the end of a twisting dirt road. There was only a small parking area and it was full when we arrived. I had to stop my mother’s car at the end of a row of other dusty vehicles on the verge beside the tall forest trees.
We all climbed out. There was the fresh smell of countryside and, in the distance, the sounds of splashing, and the hoops and hollers of kids enjoying themselves. The noise was louder than the cackle of cicadas around us.
There were no changing sheds. My friends and I got into our togs standing by the car, not too concerned about the possibility of someone else arriving. There were flashes of male organs and dark pubic hair, and then my friends were ready to walk down the road to the riverbank. “Coming?” Al asked me. The others paused in their tracks. “I’m just going for a leak first.” “Do it in your togs in the river, ” Chandler suggested. “No one’s going to notice.” “You guys go ahead. I won’t be long.”
They took off without further encouragement. Feeling the urge to pee more strongly than ever, I locked the car and then located an offshoot of the track to The Pines. I could have just gone at the edge of the trees and hoped no one came along, but modesty (about peeing at least) made me seek cover further in.
There was a set of rapids between The Pines and Bartons Rock and I could hear the roaring sound of rushing water before I found a patch of suitably dense undergrowth I could use as a barrier behind which to relieve myself. With a sense of urgency, I ducked and pushed my way through it. Unexpectedly, I came out into a small clearing where, just above the ground, a fallen tree was still held up by its broken branches. There were clothes thrown over the prone trunk.
I wasn’t alone – there was a girl. We both froze. Bright sunlight came down through the break in the canopy, lighting her body. It was the loveliest I’d ever dreamt of seeing. She had been using the cover of the surrounding vegetation to change into her swimsuit. It was one-piece and figure hugging. She had it pulled most of the way up, and had been about to put an arm through a shoulder strap. Her breasts were still bare.
She recovered from her surprise, grabbed her towel off the tree trunk, and held it against her chest. We’d instantly recognised each other, being in the same class at school. Her name was Susan. I’d occasionally caught her glancing at me during lessons, seeming interested. I’d wanted to ask her out, but shyness had left me admiring her from afar, unless my sexual fantasies count. She’d been supplanted in them only after I saw Kim naked at The Pines.
I hadn’t wanted to have incestuous feelings about Kim, but the memory of what I’d seen her do was a greater sexual stimulus than anything I could ever imagine. So, yeah, lately I’d jerked off thinking about my own sister instead of Susan.
“Have you been watching me?” The accusation, and the after-image in my head of her naked breasts, made me flush guiltily. “No, ” I said. “Did you follow me from the car park?” I denied that too. “I just came in here by accident.” Her blue eyes took in that I had a towel over one bare shoulder and that my swimming trunks were dry. “Why?” “I needed to …” “What?” Her short, wavy-blonde hair distracted me. “You wanted to do what, ” she persisted. “You know.” Her back stiffened. “I don’t know what boys need to go into the bushes to do.” “Take a leak, ” I blurted, blushing more deeply because I knew what she was implying. “Oh, ” she said, her lips matching the sound. “Sorry I surprised you. I didn’t expect to see anyone.” “But you saw me.” Her eyes got a teasing twinkle in them.
A different urge replaced the one in my bladder; this time it had shifted to my groin. I was alone with the girl of my fantasies. She was wearing a revealing swimsuit and modestly holding a towel over her otherwise bare breasts. She hadn’t screamed when I stumbled on her, nor had she subsequently told me to leave. Either she was sexually experienced (like my sister had seemed to me to be) or, for some other reason, wasn’t scared by the situation she was in. Maybe curiosity had gotten the better of her.
She added, “You could pretend I’m not here and do what you were going to do.” The suggestion was the last thing I’d expected. Maybe she thought I needed that bad to relieve myself. I checked, “You want me to pee in front of you?” Because she was a girl, I 'd softened it from “take a leak”. She was looking at my crotch. Maybe what she really wanted was to see my cock, I figured, or maybe to humiliate me by leaving before I got it all the way out.
“I didn’t say I was going to watch.” Her eyes lifted, “But if I did, you wouldn’t tell anyone, would you?”
Even if the urge came back (much as I wanted it to if she was genuine) I wasn’t sure I could do it in front of a girl – anymore than she could in front of me, I was sure – though the idea made my cock swell even more.
“I wouldn’t tell anyone, ” I heard myself saying. I wondered if the summer heat had affected all the girls of the town the same way. Yet, if she was genuinely attracted to me, it seemed a strange thing for her to want me to do in front of her. Maybe it was just spur of the moment.
“Or maybe you’re too shy, ” she teased me with a grin. I figured it out. “So you were just kidding.” “Perhaps I only wanted to find out what sort of boy you are. Or maybe I might have watched and then sent you on your way.” She looked momentarily coy. We stared at each other until she became disconcerted. “If you’ll turn round now I’ll finish getting my swimsuit on.” “I’d rather watch.” My boldness astounded me. She was inquisitive and direct, responding, “Is that because you like me?” “Very much … for quite awhile.” “Why haven’t you ever asked me out?” “I thought you’d say no.” “I wouldn’t have.” My heart leapt. I didn’t know how to respond.
Susan slowly lowered her towel. “You didn’t just say you liked me because you wanted to see these again?” She looked down at her bare breasts. I found my voice, despite what I was seeing. “No. I really like you. Ever since you arrived at school.” Our eyes met. She knew the effect her exposed tits were having on me, and wasn’t shy about it.
Susan could have been Kim’s double in body size, their breasts equally gorgeous. Emotionally, though, I was reacting differently. Seeing Kim’s tits had been a first-time thrill; having Susan let me see hers meant something more.
Responding to the invitation in her eyes, I crossed the gap between us. Her soft lips met mine. I closed my eyes, shutting out everything except the sensation of the kiss. We parted for breath, stared into each other’s eyes in misty attraction, and then brought our lips together again.
When she put her arms around my neck I was reminded she was only half-dressed. I could feel the softness of bare breasts pressed against my chest. It was the most beautiful sensation I’d experienced in my entire life.
Susan’s lips parted. We stole a breath while almost mouth-to-mouth then plunged back into the heady excitement and passionate emotion of our embrace.
I don’t know how long we kept it up, forgetting anything else. It was Susan who reminded me that tongues could participate too. Our lips were barely touching when her tongue slid between my teeth and touched mine. The tips did a kind of involuntary dance together, wetly twining and curling. Sensations of pleasure and delight washed over me. Her mouth opened wider on mine and her tongue plunged deeper. My arms were already about her and I drew her closer, the bursting bulge in my swim-trunks instinctively seeking contact.
I knew I had found the place it belonged as soon as our private parts touched, cloth to cloth. We mutually gasped in a breath then locked together again, lips open, tongue to tongue, grinding our pelvises together in a close approximation of ecstasy.
“Sus-s-an-n!” It was a male voice calling out. We sprang apart as if someone had jabbed us with a cattle prod. “Sus-s-an-n!” The voice was coming closer, from the path.
Susan was shrugging hurriedly into the straps of her swimsuit. “Who is it, ” I whispered. “The boy I came with.” She put her finger to her lips. I knew then she was not preparing to leave me. We held our breaths. The voice went on by and faded. “He’ll organise a search party if he doesn’t find you, ” I said practically, before I could stop myself. “Didn’t you come with someone?” “Just some other boys. They probably won’t miss me until they’re ready to go.” “Oh.” “Do you like this guy you’re with?” I probably had no right to ask. “It’s a first date.” Her eyes met mine. “I wouldn’t have gone on it if you’d ever asked me out.” Her whispered words made my heart swell with the beginnings of a real attachment for her.
“Sus-s-an-n!” The boy was coming back along the track. “I’ll go and speak to him.” Susan stepped around me, ignoring my stunned reaction. She pushed her way through the undergrowth and shrubbery towards the approaching voice.
A little later Susan emerged back in the clearing, looking serious. “What did you tell him?” “That I wasn’t feeling well and that I was going to lie down for a while out of the sun.” Seeing how beautiful she was (or that was how she seemed to me) I could believe her mystery boyfriend not wanting to fall out with her on a first date by arguing. “Won’t he come back?” I realised we were on borrowed time “No. I said I’d go down to the waterhole once I felt better.” Susan’s look held my gaze. It told how she felt about me.
I watched her lower the straps of her swimsuit then come towards me to sit at my side on the rough bark of the fallen tree. I could see the mounded tops of her breasts when she sat. Only the tips were holding up her swimsuit.
She reached over, took my hand – lifting it as her lips came towards mine – and placed it in the top of her swimsuit. My brain seemed to split in two, half of it aware of her lips corresponding with mine, and the other half devoted to what my hand felt. There was a rubbery nubble surrounded by swelling softness under a cover of velvet skin.
Okay, so no words can really describe it, especially that first time.
My wrist accidentally brushed the top of the swimsuit out of the way, exposing her breast. We stopped kissing and both looked down at where my hand was holding her.
I felt frozen, not knowing what to do next. Then I remembered my friends with their hands on my kid sister’s tits, and how they had manipulated them. I looked into Susan’s eyes and instinct took over, her shallow breathing deepening in response to my touch.
We kissed again. All the time, I was holding her breast, squeezing it gently, the nipple pressing into my palm. I slipped my tongue back into Susan’s mouth. Her tongue retreated coyly. Then it became assertive with mine, pushing it back between her teeth so that just the tips touched in a passionate kiss of their own. We sucked in fresh forest air. Teasing, her tongue pounced on mine. It was oral foreplay like I’d never experienced it before!
As our kiss deepened, she thrust her breast against my hand.
Her eyes were misty as they opened after we came up for another breath. “Play with my nipple, ” she begged. My hand, it seemed, wasn’t the first she’d invited.
Were all girls precocious like Kim, I wondered momentarily.
Going with the flow, I let my fingers draw out to a funnel over the tip of Susan's breast. Squeezing gently on the nipple, unsure of how much pressure I should use, I drew it outwards. Susan let out a little gasp. “Did I hurt you?” I was suddenly all concern and remorse. “No.” The word quavered. “I liked that.” I kept doing it, feeling her respond and grow between my fingers. I almost felt frustrated when her nipple wouldn’t stand out any further. Then she gently drew my head towards her. I knew what she wanted me to do, and this time she groaned at the first sensations.
While I was sucking her nipple, like a novice Don Juan, my hand found something else to do, exposing her other breast and caressing its tip. Her hand stroked my head, and her chest thrust out, eager for stimulation.
I thought no physical sensation could be more beautiful, and then I felt her other hand push into the waistband of my shorts. It played with my pubic hair. After a few breathless seconds, her fingertips gradually worked downward, making first contact with the stiff base of my cock. They lingered there for a second then drew back, as if suddenly frightened by what they’d touched.
I lifted towards her fingertips, dying to make contact with them again, my mouth still on her nipple but no longer sucking.
The ends of her fingers made contact again. I felt rock-hard where they touched. Her thumb and forefinger explored, testing my girth, then withdrew shyly. Her hand came free of my shorts.
I straightened up and we stared at each other. “Do you want to …” I knew from the way she said it, and looked at me, what she meant. I countered, “Do you?” “I don’t know.” She swallowed. “I haven’t done it before.” My heart leapt to my throat as I admitted, “I haven’t either.” “Do you want me?” My insides lurched. “With all my heart and soul!” I think something happened inside her too, the way her expression changed. I didn’t want to do it just for the sex, and nor did she. I really cared about her.
Our lips met slowly in a tender kiss, her nipples brushing my chest. “You’ll have to show me what to do, ” she said.
I had no idea. Kim hadn’t let the boys go as far as fucking her. Didn’t a girl’s entrance need to be stimulated, somehow, before she could make love, I tried to recall.
My head filled with the picture of my friends licking Kim between the legs after she presented herself to them on her back. I didn’t want to shock Susan by suggesting we go there.
I’d heard some boys claim girls loved having fingers inside them, and sometimes did it to themselves. For a boy, getting them in a girl’s pussy was in the same league as finding the Holy Grail. None of us could imagine vividly beyond that.
Then I remembered Kim had stopped Chandler after he had his finger in her cunt hole. She may not have liked the feel of it, for all I knew, or she may not have wanted to be stimulated any further. Or maybe she just got scared.
I wanted to go back to the familiar joy of kissing Susan and fondling her breasts, but I knew it was time to seek another level of intimacy. I had to do something!
Standing up, I helped Susan off the tree trunk. She stood facing me, looking nervous and holding her swimsuit in case it slipped any further. She wasn’t attempting to cover her breasts though. I just hoped she couldn’t tell how nervous and unsure I was too.
Hiding it, I trampled the undergrowth in front of us then placed our towels side by side over it. She lay down on hers, on her back, and looked up at me. I took off my sandals, standing on one leg then the other, before lying down beside her.
We turned our heads and looked into each other’s eyes. “You can touch me, if you like, ” she said in a little voice.
I wondered if she’d ever said that to anybody else. Jealousy burned inside me for a moment. Then I melted under her gaze, and knew she hadn’t.
I pushed myself up on one elbow, tore my eyes away from the pink nipples on her mounded breasts, and let my gaze drift down to where a triangle of green swimsuit disappeared between her lightly parted thighs.
I bent forward and tentatively let my fingers touch the mounded crest of the triangle. There was springy hair underneath the swimsuit, and hardness when I pushed more firmly – the same hardness I’d felt pressed tightly against me when we stood embracing.
A shiver passed through Susan’s body and made my palm tingle when I felt it.
I looked back at her face. Her lips lifted at the corners in an almost-formed smile of encouragement. Her eyes seemed to shyly say, “Yes.”
I pressed down on her pubic mound, rotating the heel of my hand, unsure if that was what she wanted or not. All I knew was that I was going crazy from the sensation of touching her there.
I noticed her breathing quickening. Then I felt her hand cover mine and push it over the edge. My palm felt incredible softness as her legs magically opened. The sexy, hidden treasure between them was no longer guarded.
Her hand withdrew, leaving mine lightly touching the crotch of her swimsuit, sensing the shape of her private parts underneath.
I became aware she was pushing the top of her swimsuit down over her hips. She exposed her navel then most of her belly, and stopped.
I couldn’t resist the look in her eyes and I kissed her. At the same time, I lifted my hand and cupped one warm breast. She responded hesitantly then with greater passion, groaning into my mouth as my fingers teased her nipple.
She shifted, breaking from the kiss, and then sat up to push the swimsuit the rest of the way down, freeing it by lifting her butt off the towel.
I saw her dark-blonde pubic hair for the first time.
She leant forward and pushed the swimsuit over her knees. From there, she lifted one foot out and used it to kick the garment off her other leg.
She lay back, entirely nude now, watching my eyes adore her.
Even though I’d seen women in “Playboy” – and Kim in the flesh only a month ago – it took nothing away from looking at Susan’s body for the first time without a stitch of clothing on it. She was beautiful and fascinating beyond description!
Her bottom lip trembled. “Do you still want me?” I let my breath out in a rush, “Ever so much!” I couldn’t express how the thought of it caused almost physical pain. “Do you want to … play with me first … down there?” She bobbed her chin towards her belly. My answer must have been in my expression because she parted her thighs and drew her knees higher, opening herself.
I felt frozen and overwhelmed, probably with my mouth agape and looking stupid. “Do you think I look nice … down there?” “There’s no one more lovely!” She smiled, pleased that I’d said it, no longer caring whether it was true or not. “I’m glad you seem to like it so much.”
I realised she wasn’t really wanting me to just look, or to engage me in conversation. She was just chivvying me along.
I remembered her question – do you want to play with me down there first? It rather implied that if I didn’t know what to do, and providing her most intimate parts were being touched, it didn’t really matter.
I sort of recalled that Chandler was kneeling between my sister’s legs when he inserted his finger. It was exciting then – to watch – but in this new context it seemed a disrespectful thing to do. He’d simply poked his finger up as if into the end of a pipe. I didn’t want to do that to Susan.
I just shuffled my position, while I stared soulfully into her blue eyes, and reached out to touch her soft midriff. My hand slid over her tummy and down into the start of her crisp pubic hair, caressing her in the same way she had first caressed me.
The enormity of the thought that I was actually touching a girl’s pussy fur bounced around inside my head like an electronic pinball, shooting hot darts of pleasure into my groin. I thought I could hear the ching-ching-ching of each contact with my skull.
Susan’s hips swayed, pushing her pelvis against my hand eagerly. Her eyes told me how aware she was of where I was touching her. If I went any further, I felt certain I’d make a fool of myself. Just having my hand where it was seemed the ultimate! It was giving me more pleasure than I’d ever imagined anything could.
But she’d said, “Play with me.” How did you play with a girl’s thing? How did you make sure you were giving her pleasure too?
I let my fingers slide down through the hair because it seemed the only thing to do. Her body tensed, and I knew nobody else had ever had his hand where mine was heading. She had no experience to compare my attempts with, no matter how fumbling I might be.
I had some idea of her genital anatomy from pictures of shaved pussy I’d seen in magazines. I anticipated the relative position and shape of her outer labia as my fingertips separated and slid onto them. I knew that a girl’s slit (and I did not dare touch Susan’s yet) not only separated her two labia but also enclosed smaller lips and, somewhere low down, the entrance to her vagina. I’d heard the word “clit” bandied about as well, and I knew it was some part of a girl’s pussy that gave her special pleasure – but I could never figure out, from the porn photos, which part it was in all the intricate pink parts that showed when a model was holding herself open.
Through the fur, my fingertips touched the bottom of her labia.
Susan was still tensed, and I was holding my breath. I brought my fingertips together and tentatively drew them back up. I could feel a barrier of hairs, and sense a groove underneath it.
Susan’s eyes had gone wider. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly.
With my index finger, I traced the line of the depression upwards, and then slid two fingers back down together, trying to part the hair to either side. I found a spot that felt matted and wet, and instinctively concentrated there. The wetness was slippery, and the hair parted as if oiled. My fingertips touched something yielding that was softer than velvet.
The tension in Susan’s body melted away. The part of it I was touching was opening wider under my fingertips. I explored, encountering firm, lubricated flesh.
Susan began trying to slip the ring of her tight entrance on two of my fingers at once – as hard as I was endeavoring, without hurting her, to push them into the hidden depths beyond. She was breathing deeply in a jerky kind of way and her eyes had closed.
The entrance ring yielded gradually, seeming to grow more elastic, and then I was through, my fingers slipping into a yielding sheath that was squishy with wetness.
I was feeling Susan up!
She moaned softly as my palm came up against her pubic mound and my extended fingers investigated everything they could reach inside her. All the time, her entrance was opening wider, letting me further in.
As I stared at Susan’s lovely face a strange sensation came over me – I felt I was going gooey inside, as if all my internal organs had turned to marshmallow. It was incredible what she was letting me do – so overwhelmingly intimate!
Her eyes fluttered open and I melted even more. I exclaimed, overcome, “You’re amazing!”
“Make love to me!”
Her cunt muscles were expelling my fingers. She sat up, pushing me onto my back before starting to pull down the waistband of my shorts. My cock shot up, released as the elastic cleared it. She stared for a long moment and then finished taking off my swim-trunks with my eager help. Straddling my legs – all nude and beautiful – she made me begin to feel how it was to die and go to heaven. Her lovely blue eyes on mine, she reached between her legs to find the shaft of my penis, grasped it, and then guided it to her entrance. Before I could even think about what was happening, she was lowering herself onto the blunt point, enclosing it in juicy softness. I felt the same muscular ring as my fingers had, and momentary resistance, then my cock slid through.
My heart felt as if it had stopped beating and was going to burst, all my nerve endings as if they were concentrated in the one part of my body that was intimately wrapped by hers.
Involuntarily, I started thinking about hymens, wondering if I’d pierced hers as she came down on me. Would she start bleeding? Would the after-pain be more than she could bear? I’d heard the first-time horror stories. I tensed and froze.
“It’s all right, ” she said. “I tore mine a few years ago playing netball.” It was as if our intimate sexual link had let her read my mind. Either that, or she wanted to convince me she was still a virgin in every other way but one.
She lowered her head to kiss me. As her lips touched mine, she let her hips sink down, a reserve of elasticity allowing her to take me all the way up. I felt as if I was part of her, as if our flesh had merged.
My hands, on her back, were stroking its bareness as I responded to her kiss. She broke from the embrace, her breasts lifting to lightly touch my chest, and stared down into my eyes.
Still braced on her arms, she began moving her hips. I felt the taut ring around my cock sliding up the shaft. Just when I thought the head was going to pop out, she slid herself down again. I almost came. I had to fight the burning itch, in some hidden vessel connecting my balls and penis, to gush into her.
Somehow, she understood – perhaps she could see a struggle in my eyes, though I thought they were busy just adoring her – and she stayed still.
The urgent throbbing at the base of my cock ebbed. Then the stretched-tight ring moved up again, causing sensations that were pure magic. When it came down it seemed to go on forever. Her pubic hair merged with mine, her pubic bone grinding against me. The tip of my penis settled in some unyielding space deep inside her.
The next time her hips came down towards me, I thrust up instinctively. She groaned and stopped moving lower. I took over, bridging the space between us by lifting my hips, tightening my butt to plunge all the way in, and then semi-relaxing to pull part way out of her again.
Her gorgeous cunt started gripping my cock as it moved inside her. I made passionate thrusts only a further three or four times before I felt uncontrollable sensations in my groin boiling over. A flood of heat channeled through my loins. Then my cock was jerking, spurting into Susan. She gave a little gasp and sank onto me, grinding her pubic bone wildly.
My hands grasped her soft butt cheeks, holding her on my cock, my hips thrusting up. She bucked and rode me. My cock had gone numb. Her fingernails dug into my shoulders, and then her back arched. Her breath came out in a long, drawn out sigh. She collapsed on my chest and we lay together.
Between her legs, I felt my limp cock being progressively expelled until it flopped out like a slippery eel.
I realised we were both panting. She rolled off me onto her back, with my arm under her shoulders. I wanted to kiss her lips then her nipples and, more crazily, between her legs. But I lay exhausted, recovering.
Do you still like me?” Her voice was almost plaintive. I turned my head towards her and it just came out, “I love you!” “I love you too!” Her eyes were warm with emotion, and she twisted over to come into my arms. Her beautiful nude body pressed against me. My cock felt a damp wetness where it touched her. “I’ll always love you, ” she vowed before her lips found mine. A passionate kiss sealed our new commitment to each other.
It was the start of the longest and most beautiful teenage relationship in my life.
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