Paper boy Part 1.

[Wolfman]

"Excuse me?"

The voice was a woman's. He stopped and turned around.

She was almost as tall as him, with long blonde wavy hair flowing gently in the rooftop breeze. She was wearing a man's blue and white striped shirt, unbuttoned. Underneath, a yellow bikini, accentuating her tan and almost but not quite hiding a gorgeous hourglass figure. Striking blue eyes and a sultry smile that almost made his knees buckle finished the picture of an attractive woman that had stopped the paper boy on his rounds.

His rounds was in the city's most affluent neighbourhood, a series of shops, apartments, and penthouses built over and around an old shipyard.

He'd noticed the woman on his rounds before, as she was a frequent user of the rooftop pool, explaining her tan and her swimwear. He'd stolen more than one furtive glance at her and her neighbours on his rounds, idly fantasizing about their bodies and what he'd do with and to them given half a chance.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

He heaved an inward sigh as he nodded. Probably she was unhappy about the delivery of the evening paper and about to give him a piece of her mind. That smile, though...

"I'd like to discuss this in private, if you don't mind."

OK? Curious, but he wouldn't mind getting out of the blistering sun for a few minutes, so he said "sure", and swallowed drily as she beckoned him into her penthouse.

She held the door open to him, and as he passed her he could smell her. It was a heady mix of a warm sunbaked body, fresh sweat, clean clothes, and expensive soap and perfume. It was intoxicating, alluring, and he wondered just what the hell was getting himself into.

He heard the door close behind him and she brushed past him, grazing his warm and sweaty form. "I think you could use a drink. Come with me."

He hesitated. He felt very self conscious. He was dressed in worn out jeans, sneakers, and a t-shirt turned grayish black from the ink of the newspapers he carried. She was clean and smelled of fresh flowers, and her apartment...

The entrance alone spoke of wealth and taste, and he was afraid of breathing too loudly or harshly lest he break something.

"Well come along, I won't bite you."

He followed her, acutely aware of her long sculpted legs and her butt moving behind the oversized shirt she was wearing.

They entered the kitchen area and she poured him a glass of cold water. She handed it to him, their fingers grazing, sending shivers through his body.

She leaned her back on the kitchen counter, the shirt sliding off just enough to reveal more of her body. She fixed him with her eyes.

"I've noticed you. You're trying to be discreet about it, but you like checking out the women here, don't you?"

There was no point denying it. He just nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"There is a longing in your eyes. I am guessing you don't have much experience with women."

"No I don't, unless you count what I've read about, um, women and men" he replied awkwardly.

She cocked an eyebrow at that. "And what have you read and what have you learned?" Her tone was amused and teasing, her smile playful. But he sensed no malice, so he pressed on, blushing furiously.

"Um, well, that- that, the thing with the, um, sex, can be wonderful if done right, but only if there's agreement by both and proper precautions are made and-"

He was babbling a mile a minute now, and she looked at him amused as he got more and more awkward. She stood up from her leaning posture and sauntered towards him, that playful smile still on her lips.

"Well, I like you. You are clearly not conceited, and I get the feeling you are unaware of just how attractive you are." She was so close to him now that he could feel and smell her breath, and he could feel the heat of her body radiating towards him.

She cupped his face in one hand and looked at him. The touch of her hand made him catch his breath as his dick roared to life and pressed painfully against his pants. He twitched involuntarily and she smiled at his predicament.

"We can't have you delivering papers in this state," she whispered, leaning so close that he could feel her boobs press against his chest as her warm breath caressed his ear. Her left hand grabbed him by the nape of his neck, pulling him toward her. He gasped as he felt her nibble on his earlobe as her right hand stroked the outside of his pants, feeling his erection through the rough fabric.

"No. That won't do at all." Her voice was deeper now, tinged with lust. He was suddenly aware of her hands busying themselves with his belt buckle, buttons and zipper of his jeans.

He felt powerless to stop her and he didn't want her to, anyway. She slowly pulled his pants down and giggled when she saw his dick straining against the boxer shorts. She hooked her fingers on the top of his boxers and slowly pulled them down as she too sank to the floor in front of him.

"My my, look at this" she said, and there was no denying the tone of her voice now. She was horny as hell. She gently grasped his manhood, and his knees buckled as she slowly started stroking him.

"Lie down." He obeyed her instantly, lying on his back with his dick standing up like a throbbing flagpole.

She straddled his knees and lowered her head towards his member. She started licking the length of his shaft and he struggled to breathe as stars flashed before his eyes. Then she focused on the head of the cock, licking and lightly sucking him before she started sweeping her tongue around the glans.

He could not contain his moans under her administrations, and he started bucking his hips against her mouth in eager frustration of wanting more.

And then she engulfed him completely with her mouth and started working on him rhythmically up and down, in and out, while her tongue seemed to live a life of its own, hitting all the sweet spots.

He was not going to last very long. He came with a roar and emptied copious amounts of semen into her mouth. He could hear her moan and swallow and swallow and moan as he spent himself inside her.

He almost blacked out from the pleasure and lay panting on the floor, feeling her mouth still on his cock.

He slowly came to his senses. She had released his willy that was still half erect and she was looking at him with a hunger.

"You need to finish your paper route, but I expect you back here as soon as you're done. After all" she winked at him "you owe me a screaming orgasm now".

And how could he refuse? He got up, his legs wobbling. "I can be back here in 30-40 minutes" he told her. A pause. "I need to tell my parents I'll be late, though."

"How old are you?" she inquired. "17" he replied. She smiled, as if expecting a question in return. But he knew better than to ask. "Well, I am old enough to be your mother. I am a mother, in fact, but she'll be with friends until tomorrow, so..."

Another question hung between them, and she volunteered: "I'm married. My husband knows about this, as I know about his lovers. We have an open relationship that actually works. And that's a rare thing."

She seemed lost in thought for a moment, then: "Now hurry up. Finish your rounds and come back to me. I want to experience all of you!"

He stood at the threshold, unsure of the proper etiquette of saying farewell to the woman that had given him his first ever blowjob. She pressed herself against him and whispered "hurry back" as her hands caressed his chest and her teeth playfully nibbled his ear.

Then she unceremoniously turned him around and gave his butt a slap as he headed through the door and out into normality again.

The rest of his rounds were a blur, his mind filled with what had just happened and the promises of more things to come. He passed by people on the street, wondering if they could see on his face what he was thinking about and what had just happened to him. They seemed oblivious.

His rounds finally finished, he called his parents to inform them he'd be incommunicado, that he'd be with some of his high school classmates, and that he more than likely would spend the night sleeping over with them.

The rest of the evening was now his, and his alone. It was a heady feeling of freedom and the promise of more wonderful sex with the beautiful woman he'd been accosted by.

Less than five minutes later, she let him into the huge penthouse apartment again. He had grown more and more apprehensive as he approached, a thousand scenarios running through his mind: what if her husband was there, what if her daughter was there, what if she'd changed her mind?

All these doubts were laid to rest as he entered the apartment. She'd opened the door but kept herself behind it as she let him in. When she closed it, he understood why. She'd changed into very white and very sexy lingerie and draped herself in a black seethrough negligee that, he was sure, was designed to drive him even more wild with lust.

He felt bold tben, and stepped toward her. She stopped him, gently but firmly. "You need a shower. Come with me." He was suddenly selfconsciously aware of his heavy smell of sweat after running with newspapers the whole afternoon. He kicked off his sneakers and they were both assailed by the heavy smell of warm and sweaty feet.

"You DEFINITELY need a shower" she proclaimed, grabbing his hand and pulling him along.

He presently found himself in a luxurious bathroom. Marble floor and walls, and golden taps, a large jacuzzi tub and a spacious shower cabinet.

She made no sign of leaving and he felt a pang of bashfulness until he remembered she'd had his dick and cum in his mouth less than an hour ago. The thought made his dick twitch in anticipation, and he knew they'd see each other naked again before long. And so he stripped in front of her.

He was aware of her eyes taking in his body. He was not very buff, and he had just recently shed the last of his puppy fat as he started working as a paper boy. He was an even 6 foot tall and dark haired with blue eyes. He had a very uneven tan, thanks to his job.

Finally naked, he looked at her. She in turn was checking him out, her eyes lingering unashamedly on his body. "Turn around" she told him, and he obeyed. "I like your body. I think I like you. I want you to fuck me until you drop from exhaustion tonight. I expect nothing less."

Her words held promises of physical delights he'd only dreamed of, and he shivered in anticipation. She nodded towards the shower and he obliged her, stepping inside. He turned the water on and lathered himself once, twice, three times to get rid of any muck and lingering smells. He was dimly aware of her moving about outside, but at this point he was more focused on gifting her with as clean and pristine a body as possible.

Stepping out of the shower, and she was waiting for him with an impossibly huge white and soft and very fuzzy towel. She draped it around his shoulders and started drying him off and massaging him at the same time.

He'd never felt this pampered before. He closed his eyes and enjoyed her touch as her hands roamed all over his body, awakening a deep arousal he'd never experienced before. This was heaven. Bliss.

"Do you see what I'm doing?"

Her words, though soft, startled him out of his reverie. What WAS she doing? "Um..."

She laughed. "See, if I went straight for your dick I would have gotten you off about as quickly as I did earlier. But where's the fun in just coming? Equally important is getting there. Never forget that."

He was smart enough to understand what she was telling him.

"I want to make you feel good, too" he said.

"Not like that, you're not" she retorted, pulling away from him. She reached for a red silk robe and helped him put it on. It was cool and soft and sensuously tickling his skin. "I don't want you catching a cold" she said with a teasing smile.

She was right in front of him, tying a knot on the robe when he realized he needed to show some initiative. He reached up with both hands and slowly plunged them in her hair. It was cool and soft and almost silky against his fingers and he relished the feeling.

She had stopped fiddling with the silk robe, her hands resting on his chest. He plunged deeper and started massaging her scalp. "Hmmmm!" A soft sigh escaped her, and she sounded pleased. "I like this" she offered. "I like feeling your hands being so gentle". Her eyes were closed and her voice was low and happy.

He grasped her head a bit firmer and tilted her face towards him. Her eyes were still closed as he leaned in and kissed her. That took her by surprise, but she said "Oh!" while giggling and returned the kiss.

They traded several pecks where they both attempted to tease the other with their tongue until they clicked and melted in a french kiss whose intensity he was unprepared for. Their lips mashed and slipped against each other as their tongues all but made love, as they plunged and tickled and twirled.

When they released, he felt like a new man. He was rock hard. He was dizzy with lust. His lips were tingling with delight. His breathing was deep and aroused. She was in a similar state of arousal, judging by her heavy breath, heaving breasts, and pink cheeks. "Wow" was all she could think to say.

"Kiss me again" she said in a thick voice. He eagerly obliged. The kiss felt more controlled, but now his hands seemed to be roaming her body of their own accord. Soft smooth skin, delightful curves, silky lingerie, soft boobs, firm butt, smooth legs... this all registered in his fevered brain as he hungrily and deeply kissed her like he'd never kissed anyone before.

They broke the kiss again and she looked at him. "You're- you're a good kisser" she croaked. She seemed surprised but not upset.

"Show me what else you can do with that mouth of yours." He hesitated, then thought he should lighten the mood. He leaned in, intending to startle her by licking the nape of her neck. He himself was kind of ticklish there, and he wanted to surprise her.

He leaned in and licked the side of the neck below and slightly behind her ear. He was not ready for her response at all. She let out a loud moan of "Oh yes!" as his tongue inadvertently hit a sweet spot that made her quiver with delight.

Encouraged by finding her so receptive, he explored her lower neck, and remembering her farewell earlier, started licking and nibbling her ear. "That- that also fe-els good on my neck. Please..."

He lowered his head and opened his mouth and gently bit down on her soft smooth skin. She moaned loudly as he all but devoured her.

"MORE" she demanded. "Devour me! Take me!"

He wanted nothing more than to tear her panties down and fuck her into oblivion. But he also wanted to explore that magnificent body of hers, and he kissed his way down her body.

She snapped out of it and grabbed his hand, leading him out of the bathroom and into a huge bedroom with a king sized bed. She tore off his robe while he did the same to her negligee and bra.

His member was throbbing painfully, pointing towards her like an unfaltering compass needle. He grabbed her boobs, marveling at their softness before licking and sucking on the nipples. She moaned as her hands grasped his dick and started to stroke it.

His hand sauntered down to her crotch to find the panties to be soaked through. There was one thing he wanted to do before fucking her. He pushed her back onto the bed and tore of her panties.

She spread her legs, welcoming him. He started kissing his way up her legs and licked and nibbled his way towards her slit. She was ready for bim, the labial lips splayed and glistening.

He lowered his head and started licking her. A sharp intake of air was followed by gentle guidance in a voice straining to retain composure. He soon found her sweet spots and her preferences and started eating her out in earnest.

It was like nothing he'd expected, but surprisingly pleasant and arousing. She was clean shaven, and there was a clean musky smell he'd never experienced before. He loved how her pussy lips felt against his lips and tongue, and the moans and squeals from her as he explored her.

Her moans grew louder as he tickled her with his tongue, and her hips started gyrating more wildly. Her legs started arcing upwards and her hands gripped his hair and the sheets as she seemed to lose control of her faculties.

And suddenly she went "ah-ah-AH-AH-AAAAH!" as her body tensed like a spring and her gyrating hips all but broke his nose.

She shivered, convulsed, and moaned for a few minutes before opening her eyes again. "You- you're a natural" she exclaimed, half delighted half surprised.

He was aroused like he'd never been before, and he actually marveled at his owm restraint as he'd eaten her out without jumping her bones. But now he neither would nor could wait any longer.

He moved up between her legs and tried entering her. His efforts were somewhat clumsy and she reached down to help him out of his frustration. "Calm down, I'll guide you in" she said reassuringly. There was her hand pulling him by the dick and suddenly she just said "push" and he did and it was like falling into a warm welcoming cave, triggering a shiver of delight that ran all over his body and culminating in his head and he let out a contented and lustful "Aaah! Oh my God!" as he slid inside of her to the hilt and she was moaning and moving under him and he started moving inside of her and she moaned and started moving against him and they were thrusting and moaning and he felt a pressure starting to build both in his head and his dick and he wanted this to last but it felt so good that he couldn't stop and it kept building and building and he kept going faster and faster and suddenly he felt his dick engorge and he felt like his spine was being pulled out of him along with his brain and he roared his lust and contentment as her hungry pussy kept milking him and tickling him until all he could do was laugh and the laughter turned into moans turned into laughter until he collapsed on top of her, spent.

For a long time, all he knew was warmth and pleasure, her breath and her heartbeat beneath him and her warm blushing smooth skin against his face as he slowly caught his breath and started giggling. "Oh. My. GOD!" was all he could think to say before succumbing to more heady giggling. "That was...."

"Just the beginning" she interrupted with a smile. He was happy to see she was giggling too. They snuggled and embraced and kissed, and he couldn't ever remember feeling like this before. So happy. So content. So at peace.

They fell asleep.

 

[Wolfman]

Part 2.

He slept a heavy dreamless sleep. The feeling of contentment permeated his whole being. He only started coming to when he felt his penis engorge again.

He woke up to find her lovingly licking and stroking his member. He stretched with a tiredly happy keening sound as he let her go about her loving care of his dick. Soon he was fully erect and almost painfully throbbing.

She never said a word as she made him ready for another round of lovemaking. She knew what she was doing and he had no issue with letting her take the lead for now.

She pulled him up and placed herself on all four in front of him, and the meaning was clear. She wanted him to fuck her like an animal. He got up on his knees and lined himself up behind her.

It was a wonderful sight. She was lying in front of him head down and ass up. Her buttocks were milky white, a stark contrast to the beautiful tan that graced the rest of her body. She looked back at him and her eyes seemed to beg him for more.

He had a good view of her vagina and anus, and he slowly inserted first his middle finger and then his ring finger into her eager snatch. He fidgeted about inside of her and soon found that if he curled his fingers towards her belly, she moaned loudly.

He started finger fucking her with his right hand while gently massaging her clitoris and labial lips with his left hand, eliciting moans of pleasure from her. Her hole was slippery and moist and warm, and he lost himself in a state of arousal listening to her moans as he pushed her closer and closer to the brink.

He could see her face was flushed, and she was biting the sheets while at the same time gripping them hard with both hands. Her toes were curling and her back was arcing and she came from his manipulations.

When her convulsions subsided he lined his throbbing member with her vagina and unceremoniously plunged inside her, surprising her. A loud "OH!" escaped her, and then she started moaning in earnest as he plowed into her.

He loved this position. He had more control of his pace, he could go deeper, and the view of her lying in an almost submissive pose tickled him in a new and unexpected way. He started slowly, savouring the lovely wet friction inside of her. He looked down and saw his dick pump into her, providing him a visual he'd never even dreamed of.

Her muffled voice reached him: "God damn it! Give it to me! Fuck me!" He increased his pace and lost himself in the luxurious feeling of her pussy receiving him. He grabbed her by the hips as she started thrusting back, almost unbalancing him.

She kept pushing back, threatening to unbalance him, and a dormant instinct awakened in him. His grip on her hips hardened and he pushed her down and kept her in place as he started fucking her in earnest. This, apparently, was what she'd wanted.

She grunted "Oh yes!" and started moaning deeply and loudly for each of his thrusts, arousing him further and egging him on to fuck her harder and faster. Having come twice already, he wasn't in any imminent danger of exploding inside her, so he needed to pace himself just a little.

But every time he showed signs of slowing down she would complain and egg him on. It was as if she was testing him for something. He grew short of breath after a very energetic spurt and needed to slow down, but she wouldn't hear of it. In frustration, he said "give me a chance to breathe!" as he slapped her butt.

The effect was instantaneous and unexpected. A moan halfway between pain and pleasure escaped her and she turned around and looked at him with her flushed face. "Spank me again. Please."

He smacked her ass again. He felt her pussy convulse around his member as she squirmed and keened with pleasure. He spanked her again. And again. And again. Each of his strikes seemed to transport her further and further towards an orgasmic nirvana, and he noticed he himself had grown even hornier. He had, in fact, started plowing her with renewed vigour.

The situation was so electric and tense that he summoned energies he didn't know he had. He went at it like a jackhammer, pounding her into the mattress and landing blows on her ass at a pace he'd thought himself incapable of.

She was incoherent, lost in a fog of lust she hadn't experienced for years. She came multiple times and at the end almost continuously when she felt a new urgency and the telltale swelling of his dick telling her that his orgasm was imminent.

They went over the edge together, her scream and his roar resounding in the huge bedroom as they collapsed together in a sweaty shivering heap of warm ecstatic bodies.

Neither of them was incapable of speech. He held on to her like his life depended on it and hungrily kissed and bit her soft skin in a primitive act of reverence.

He rolled over on his side and off her back, his dick falling out of her with a wet sound, eliciting a gasp from her. He pulled her after him and held her and caressed her as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

"Wow."

His first word post coitus was spoken with a mix of exhaustion, horniness, awe, and unbridled joy. She turned around and looked at him, her face still flushed, her hair a tangled sweat streaked mess, and a smile mirroring his.

"You were magnificent!"
Her first words were a bit more lucid than his. She propped her head on her elbow and looked at him. "You're SURE you haven't slept with any other women before?" He nodded and said yes.

"You could have fooled me."

A long luxurious pause followed. He was enjoying lying next to her, feeling her body against his, listening to her breathing, smelling her, and gently caressing her. How long they were lying like this, he had no idea. The sun was still up, though. Still, he felt a tired contentment like he'd never done before.

His eyelids started to grow heavy when she abruptly sat up. "I'm hungry!" she exclaimed, jolting him out of his drowsiness. He realized that he was famished as well. "Yeah, me too" he said groggily.

She led him into the kitchen and produced cold chicken and potato salad and soft drinks, humming happily while all he could do was watch her move about in admiration.

Though she was, by her own admission, old enough to be his mother, her body showed little signs of wear and tear. She had a flat stomach, beautiful firm breasts, no cellulite, and very few stretch marks. Every time she turned his back to him he was treated to the sight of an ample but firm ass whose cheeks were still a very vivid red after the spankings he'd administered.

"I'd never have guessed you were old enough to be my mother" he exclaimed. He continued "I mean, I've seen girls my age with bodies looking... um... not as beautiful as yours."

She smiled wistfully. "Life is a lottery, kid. Some of us are born with good strong genes, some aren't. Add to the fact that my husband can afford the best plastic surgeons and spa treatments money can buy and..." She made a theatrical gesture as if to say "and there you have it".

"Still," he ventured "I'm happy you have an interest in me. Happy and grateful." She looked at him then. "Grateful?" There was a quizzical sharpness in her tone and her features were sharp and strict for a moment. Then her face softened again and she cocked her head to one side as if she saw him for the first time. "You really don't think much of yourself, do you?"

Ouch. That hit the mark perfectly. His self esteem was not very good, though it had had a healthy boost this afternoon. "Well..."

And then it was as if a floodgate had opened, and he freely told her everything about his bookish side and moving from another part of the country and the bullying he'd endured until high school where a new set of friends had actually treated him like a person worth knowing, something he was still adjusting to.

Her eyes never left him as he spoke and she didn't interrupt him. When he was done, she said: "Let me tell you what I see. I see a handsome young man unaware of how attractive he is. I see a sensitive soul who is starting to come to terms with his emotions, and I KNOW you have an instinct for what I at least crave in bed. In short, I think you're a pretty good prospect."

Humble pride swelled in him and he lit up in a smile even as his eyes glistened with grateful tears. No one had spoken this fervently bluntly about him, and he suddenly felt like the world was his to conquer.

He blinked a few times to rid himself of the tears while she tactfully busied herself with the dishes.

Something was nagging him, though. Why did she use the word "prospect"? It sounded a bit... like she had a plan for something about him. A vague unease filled him.

Casually, he ventured: "So your husband knows about this and is actually OK with it?" She turned and looked at him, his faux casual tone not fooling her for a moment. She elected to reply to his question, though. "Yes he is, just like I'm aware that he is boning that beautiful blonde secretary of his who, if you want to know, is also aware of the arrangement my husband and I have."

He was taken aback. "So when you said 'prospect' you meant, um, that you want me as a kind of long term lover?"

She smiled. It was hard to decipher, but he felt like he was on safe ground. The smile contained a hint of sadness and mirth. "I'd love that," she said, "but no".

"Before we go on, tell me: what do you want out of life?"

Whoah. This was getting very serious very fast. Where the hell was this headed? Still, no sense in not answering. He was curious about where this conversation was headed. He replied truthfully that he didn't have any plans set in stone, but that he had thought about applying for OCS and spend a few years in the military. If it suited him, he might make a career off of it. If not, he'd play it by ear when that time came.

"And what about personal relationships?"
This was getting VERY weird!

"I'm sorry, but why are you asking me all this?" He could no longer contain the question. This was getting more than a little intrusive, especially since she'd made it clear that she wasn't wanting a long term arrangement with him as her lover.

"I'm sorry," she said, "but I really want to know".

"Why!?" His voice had started to rise in frustration over her taciturn replies. "If you consider this a one time thing, why do you wish to know all this? Don't get me wrong, this has been the most wonderful evening of my LIFE, and I can't begin to express how great this all is. But now you're asking me all these questions that may indicate a wish for permanence with you, and yet you tell me you have no desire for such an arrangement with me."

He shrugged in frustration. "I've told you everything else, though. And I don't wish to part on unfriendly terms. So to satisfy your curiosity, let me tell you this: I wish to meet and marry someone along the way. I wish for a partner that is my equal and not a doormat. Someone who has her own life and her own interests. Someone I respect like she respects me. Someone I want to raise kids with and grow old with, in body if not in spirit."

This all came rushing out of him. Half the things he'd said were things he'd only vaguely felt but never put into words even in his own head. He paused, staggered, sat down. "Whoah."

Her smile had returned and broadened. "I was right about you. You can tell a lot about a person from body language and lovemaking and some gentle prodding. You are kind, you are handsome, you are a good lover, and you know you can't plan your life in minute details."

His mind was still reeling. Where had that all come from? It was like an adult had taken over his mind and spoken through him. Or maybe, just maybe, he was in some ways more adult than he gave himself credit for?

Lost in thought, he didn't notice her rummaging in a drawer and returning to him. She held out a photo to him. "Tell me what you see."

He grasped the picture. Staring back at him was a beautiful young woman. Strawberry blonde with a peppering of freckles over her nose. He blurted out his first thought: "This is you about my age-"

But no. The features were subtly different. "She's my daughter," she said.

"You must have been very young when you had her," he said casually. "She's stunning". This was not polite hyperbole on his part.

"God, I can't believe I went through with this," she exclaimed, clearly upset. "I should've just... but it's too late for regrets now."

He looked at her, willing her to go on, hoping to get confirmation of what he was starting to suspect.

She went for a drink and offered him one, which he refused. She took a big gulp and exhaled slowly.

"Please don't judge me too harshly for this, but you deserve the truth. My daughter... all her friends and aquaintances and," she grimaced, "prospects are all toxic and backstabbing conniving gold diggers. They know full well that she will inherit the family wealth. She is aware of this, and has grown wary, shy, and distrustful as a result. She is considering giving up her inheritance to free herself of that pressure."

"Now, being her mother, I want my daughter to have her cake and eat it as well. I want a good man with a good head on his shoulders who loves my daughter for who she is and not for her fucking bank account." She looked at him meaningfully.

"Like you, her self esteem has taken a hit. Different reasons, but the result is pretty much the same. She is withdrawn and only has a couple of friends she trusts unquestioningly."

This was a lot to take in. To casually discuss both his and her daughter's future casually, while sitting buck naked after their lovemaking struck him as almost surreal.

"But I don't know her, and I very much doubt we're moving in the same circles, so..." he shrugged.

She smiled enigmatically. "We're just going to make sure you meet, then. Aren't we?"

She pumped him for information then, not only about himself, but about his family. After a seemingly exhausting round of interrogation it had finally grown dark and he was stifling yawns. The air had grown colder and they had put on robes again.

They went to bed. His mind was a boiling mass of delight and confusion as he fell asleep with her lying next to him.

He woke up the morning after with a severe case of morning wood. He looked over at her, still asleep. She was lying on her back, her arms and legs almost spread eagled, with a thin sheet enticingly half draped over her.

Remembering the way she'd woken him up last night he got a wicked idea. He ever so gently snuck his way under the thin sheet covering her, stopping every time she moved or her breathing shifted. After a couple of minutes he was again facing her vagina. It was beautiful and smelled of soap and fresh juices. He had a blurry recollection of her getting up during the night for the bathroom, and the absence of his juices seeping out of her confirmed his suspicion. She'd cleaned herself after he went to sleep.

Oh well, he hoped she would like the wakeup call he'd planned for her. He gently started licking her vagina, using broad strokes like she'd instructed him to in the beginning. Her breathing shifted shortly after, and as he continued, low drowsy moans started emanating from her lips.

She woke up to the most wonderful feeling of oral attention between her legs. She stretched luxuriously before burying her fingers in the head of the eager youngster so willing to please her. "Good, ah! morning!" He peeked up from between her legs, a rascally innocent smile on his face.

"And good morning to YOU!" he said before returning to the delicious task at hand. He wanted to try something new. He moistened two of his fingers and edged them gently inside of her. He made the same "come here" movement he'd done the day before and then resumed his licking.

All the while, his wood was threatening to burst from arousal. But he liked seeing and hearing her respond to his ministrations. It was a powerful aphrodisiac to him.

Her arousal grew and her pace quickened, and he did what he could to match her pace until finally she exploded in a torrent of raw lust.

He pulled his fingers out of her and watched her as she lay writhing before him. She would let the orgasms consume her entire being, and the raw unfiltered moves of her body were a thing of beauty to him.

As her climax subsided she looked up at him and said: "My turn now. Lie down." He obeyed.

She snuck her hands under her pillow and told him "close your eyes". He obeyed again and felt her gently grasp his arms, pulling them above his head. And suddenly, a metallic rattling and the feel of cold metal on his wrists. Opening his eyes, and he saw that she had handcuffed him to the headboard, leaving his body stretched out and vulnerable.

She straddled him and looked at him seriously. "If this is uncomfortable to you, please tell me now. I want to help myself to your body, and I want you to just relax and enjoy this. I will not harm you."

He trusted her and told her so. She smiled and slid off of him. She went into the kitchen and returned with, of all things, a box of Nutella. "I haven't had breakfast yet," she said coyly before unscrewing the lid and dipping two fingers inside the goopy chocolate spread.

She plopped a dollop of Nutella on his chest and smeared it all over, taking special care to cover his nipples. She placed the fingers with Nutella on his lips and he eagerly licked and sucked the chocolate treat off of them, making sure they were thoroughly cleaned.

"Good boy," she purred. "My turn now." She straddled him again and slowly started licking the spread off of him. It was the most delicious torture he'd ever been subjected to, lying helpless while her tongue in long strokes alternating with teasing little licks cleaned the chocolate off of him. He'd had no idea his nipples were that sensitive and how delicious it felt when someone who knew what they were doing teased them.

His breathing grew short and hectic under her ministrations, and his dick was raging hard still. But maddeningly, there was no release. She continued licking, biting, and sucking on his body, and he was transported to an overwhelming sensation where he felt like he was on the brink of exploding but, maddeningly, was denied release.

This sermed to go on for the longest time, and he grew horny and impatient in equal measure. His dick was throbbing and jumping for attention and he was dry humping the air, hoping to hit her and get some release.

She stopped and looked at him with a mischievous grin. "I'm still hungry," she whispered and reached for the jar of chocolate spread again. She brought another dollop out and started sliwly covering his dick while giving him a sultry look that promised extacy like he'd never experienced before.

She put her fingers in her mouth and licked and sucked the chocolate off, still fixing him with that sultry look and he almost pleaded with her to end his torture now.

She took up position between his legs and looked at his chocolate covered willy. "Mmmmm, yum yum," she said before finally, mercifully, she started licking him.

She licked from the bottom of his shaft up towards the dickhead, always stopping short of the glans, always slowly inching him towards his climax. Slow langorous licks after slow langorous lick, his dick was getting cleaned. But no release.

Eventually, only the head of his dick was left covered in chocolate. "I'm full now," she said, and she proceeded to wipe the chocolate off of his dickhead rather roughly with some wet wipes, a teasing grin on her face. She undid the handcuffs and threw them at the bed and told him: "Time for you to shower!"

She was testing him and he knew it. He was so horny that he couldn't think straight. He got up and approached her. She stood her ground and smiled. "Bathroom's that way," she said, biting her lower lip.

"I want you," he growled, unable to cut through the horniness in his mind. "Now!"

"Well, then maybe you'd better do something about it, then," she said in the same teasing manner before turning her back on him.

He pounced and pushed her down on the bed. She shrieked with laughter and got back up, awaiting his next move. Her chest was heaving and as flushed as her face was.

It appeared he'd need to get heavy handed with her. He feinted a left, making her move to the right, bringing her closer to the bed. He switched direction and grabbed her firmly before pushing her down and pinning her.

She was laughing and writhing under him, and he knew what he had to do. He grabbed the handcuffs and clicked one of the loops on one of her hands. He used the handcuff to drag her toward the headboard and pinned her down while he managed to secure her to the headboard.

She was chained in a position perfect for doggy sex, and he was on her with a roar of unbridled lust. He plunged inside of her and started fucking her furiously. Her laughter turned into shrieks and moans of pleasure as he took her hard and fast. She did a few half hearted tugs on the handcuffs, but seeing her helpless like that only aroused him further, invigorating him more and making him increase his efforts.

He was engulfed in a roaring abyss of lust, and he came violently. This time, though, he just continued fucking through his orgasm. He slammed into her again and again like a piston without mefcy or compassion, and he heard her moans reach a pitch he'd never heard before.

He didn't know for how long he fucked her, but when he finally came again he blacked out and collapsed. So did she.

 

[Wolfman]

Part 3.

He came to with a start. The handcuffs! They were still... not on her? He saw them lying on the nightstand on her side of the bed. And she was not in the room. Groggy with sleep, he reached for the cuffs and inspected them. After testing them, he found a panic release button. Clever. He sighed with relief.

"Time for breakfast and a talk," she said, entering the room barefoot, dressed in a white t-shirt and cutoff jeans shorts, her hair done up in a loose bun. "I let you sleep. I was going to wake you up within the next hour, sleepyhead."

She seemed happy, but there was something in her tone and choice of words that told him the sexcapades were over. Not that he thought he'd be able to perform anytime soon anyway.

"I ran your clothes in the washing machine and dryer for you so you won't have to wear stinky clothes to work."

"Thank you," he finally croaked by way of reply to her energetic greetings. He stumbled to the shower and cleaned the sweat and body fluids off of himself, clearing away the cobwebs in his mind.

He emerged from the bathroom in clean clothes and refreshed to find her waiting for him by the kitchen table with a sumptuous amount of food. "Dig in" she told him, and for the next 20 minutes all that was heard was the clatter of kitchenware and small talk while they ate.

After they had finished, she sat down and looked at him with those piercing blue eyes of hers. "This morning was the last time you and I were intimate. No more." He nodded. He'd expected something like this.

"I understand," he replied. "But tell me, did you just have this night with me to see if I was good enough for your daughter, or..."

"No," she replied. "Initially I wanted you all to myself, but I quickly realized that you'd be good for my daughter."

He couldn't help but be flattered by that, but he needed to ask her something. "I hope you're not proposing a union like they did in the old days, because..."

She laughed then. "Of course not. I just want to make sure you meet each other. Nothing more. I am not even going to coach you to ensure she falls for you. But I do believe you'll be a good mach for each other."

Relief surged through him then. He'd been afraid she'd want to pressure him to woo her daughter no matter what. Just meeting her and take it from there, good or bad? That he could do. "I assume this night should never be discussed with her, though," he said. "Of course not," she replied. "I'd rather you didn't discuss this night with anyone. I have no interest in discussing this with anyone either. This is ours, and only ours." She smiled wistfully. "And it's the greatest night of sex I've had in years," she added.

He couldn't help but feel proud about that. Just a couple more things were bothering him. "Two things I wanted to clear up," he said. "First, I assume we 'don't know each other' for appearances' sake?" She nodded. "Second, how do we go about for your daughter and myself to meet?"

"I have a few ideas on that," was her cryptic reply. After that, the mood slowly started getting awkward. He made to leave, and he broke through the barrier they had started to build between them and thanked her for the most wonderful night of his life so far. She gave him a peck on the cheek, whispered "likewise", and ushered him out the door. He had the presence of mind not to linger, but to head straight for the elevator and out of her life. For now.

The next couple of months saw him going on summer vacation to the family cabin with his parents, meeting friends, and continuing working as a paper boy. He caught glimpses of her, but never did more than he'd done before, mainly nodding politely and saying "good afternoon".

Autumn came, and with it came the penultimate year of high school. Meeting his classmates again and grappling with new subjects made for busy days. But a seed had been sown in him. His classmates, friends, and family noticed a change in his demeanour. He came across as quietly confident where he before had been more of a wallflower.

He even had a shortlived fling with a girl in another class at his school. It ended on amicable terms. He still delivered newspapers and still caught glimpses of the woman who so deliciously had taken his virginity.

In the beginning of October, his father announced that a patron of the arts had shown an interest in an art gallery he was helping to run as a hobby. So interested was the patron that he'd invited his father to dinner. And insisted that he bring his family.

Alarm bells went off in the boy's head, and he only put up a weak show of resistance against wasting a friday evening on boring art talk. He was persuaded when he was told there was a girl "about his age" who might need some rescue from the boring art talk as well.

And so it was that the following friday, he showed up with his family outside a very familiar penthouse in the most affluent part of town. He had been told the name and address and said with well acted surprise "that's on my paper route," something his parents found very amusing.

It was a clear crisp evening, and the air held the promise of frost during the night. He had taken great care in dressing casually nicely, much to his parents' surprise. A new pair of black slacks, a charcoal gray shirt, a black leather jacket, and black Doc Martins.

They approached the penthouse door, and his stomach was a knot of anticipating butterflies. He vaguely remembered the picture of the daughter, and he remembered that she was beautiful.

And suddenly the die was cast as his father rang the doorbell. Light footfalls could be heard on the other side and then the door unlocked and opened. And lightning struck.

A girl about his age was standing in the door. Her strawberry blonde hair was done up in a loose bun, withva few loose strands softening what might otherwise have been a severe look. The freckles looked almost unbearably cute. She was wearing a rather tight black turtleneck sweater, a dark brown pencil skirt, black woolen stockings or pantyhose, and black shoes. An abstract spiky silver pendant hung around her neck. She wore no makeup that he could see. Her form was slender with womanly curves and she was about 6 inches shorter than him. But her eyes... her eyes were what mesmerized him. Big expresdive blue eyes that for the moment registered surprise and something he could not put his finger on. He noticed that she blushed when his eyes locked with hers.

Apparently time had not been standing still, because his father cleared his throat and said "we're the Johnson family and we were invited to..." and that's as far as he got. "Yes!" the young girl exclaimed. "The Johnsons. Are you. And we invited you for dinner. Come in!"

She stepped aside to let them in, and the boy drank in her scent. It was sweet and fresh with a hint of strawberries. And he also noticed that the photo hadn't done her justice.

"Is that them?" A jovial man's voice rumbled from the living room. "Yes", the girl replied loudly. The man came to greet them. He was friendly but slightly overbearing. "The Johnsons! So nice of you to accept my invitation! My name is Marcus Lawrence, and this is my daughter Tina. My wife Thora you will meet in a moment, of course."

Ah. So that was her name.

His father in turn introduced himself and the boy ("both named Peter Johnson, birthday on the same day, but not the same year, obviously. And the same address. You can imagine the trouble we have with the IRS, ha-ha-ha!") and then he intoduced Peter's mother, Margaret.

Peter couldn't help but roll his eyes at his father's introduction. The same goddamn joke about the names and the birthday EVERY chance he got, and-

He caught a movement, and saw that Tina had hidden her mouth in a giggle. Apparently she had caught his exasperated eyeroll and found it amusing. He smiled sheepishly and shrugged while the adults exchanged pleasantries.

And suddenly there was a question directed at him he hadn't caught. "I'm sorry, what was that Mr. Lawrence?" Marcus Lawrence smiled. "Please, it's Marcus. Only my secretary calls me Mr. Lawrence!" Peter managed to disguise the laugh as a coughing fit, though his mother gave him a sideways glance. Peter had a hard time imagining his secretary calling him "Mr. Lawrence" while he was fucking her.

Marcus hadn't noticed anything, though. "I was just asking where I know you from, Peter. I know I've seen you somewhere." Ah. Safe ground. "I'm flattered you remember, Mr Law- Marcus. I deliver the evening newspaper here."

"Well isn't THAT a coincidence," roared Marcus. "Not really," Peter thought, but he replied "yes, it really is". Marcus grabbed his hand and shook it. "Let me just say, young man, that I am impressed by your precision and punctuality. I always tell Thora that we can set the clock by you. Isn't that right, Thora?"

"Yes it is," she replied. She had entered the room without Peter noticing her. "And I must commend you on your stamina too, the way you pound up and down all those stairs." Peter didn't know where to turn after that double entendre, but help came from the most welcome corner imaginable.

"Mo-om! Da-ad! You're embarassing him!" Both her parents turned and looked at her. She looked at them sternly. "Too much praise can be as bad as no praise at all," she continued. He saw surprise on their faces, but he also saw a quick flash of delight as Thora turned and faced him again.

As the adults started talking again he caught her eyes, nodded, and mouthed the words "thank you". She smiled back and nodded, blushing as she did so. He found her almost unbearably cute.

After the awkwardness of the greetings was over and done with, they went into the living room and sat down in opulent leather sofas that seemed to want to swallow them whole.

They went around the room talking about each other. Marcus was one of the leading architects of the country while Thora, to his surprise, was a practicing (though not full time) psychologist. Not that she needed the work, as she was one of three heiresses of a very wealthy shipping family. Tina had just started a new year in high school, and they discussed her high school compared to Peter's high school with some interest.

When it came to Peter, he freely told about his plans regarding the military, which almost led to an argument. His mother was an ardent pacifist and strongly opposed to the military in any form. Marcus was delighted, and both him and Peter's father spent some time boring everyone out of their minds reminiscing about when they did national service.

"The military instils a sense of duty and responsibility in young men... and women," Marcus added hastily as three pairs female of eyes bored into him.

"What about you, Tina? Have you given military service any thought?" His parents turned and looked at him in surprise. It wasn't like Peter to be this bold.

Tina scrunched her nose and replied: "That's not really for me. Running around with guns all the time and having people yell at you constantly? No thank you."

Peter looked at her and drew an inward sigh. He'd like to be alone with her so they could talk freely. He was already crushing on her, and he sensed more than a little sympathy from her end as well.

He'd been afraid of being in the same room as Thora after the night of lust they'd shared, but apart from her initial teasing double entendre she behaved like the consummate hostess. Peter also found it hard to tear his eyes from Tina, though he did his best not to stare. He caught her looking at him, and whenever he did, she quickly turned her head away, red in the face. Peter had a warm fluttery sensation in his belly looking at her and exchanging words with her.

Dinner was served, and nothing had been left to chance. He was sitting opposite Tina. Thora sat next to him opposite his dad, while his mother was seated opposite Marcus. The talk flowed freely about art, artists, gallery opening hours and whatnot, but Peter only caught glimpses of that.

Tina had launched into a lengthy ramble about her school and her subjects. He looked, listened and mostly nodded or exclaimed. He was absorbed by her whole being. She had a very lively and expressive face, she gesticulated eagerly, and she kept tucking strands of hair behind her ears absentmindedly while she spoke.

Peter in turn told about the school he went to, and she became silent, watching and listening. He told how on his school, because the students helped running the actual school, the teachers could not give out grades. All students had to take exams in every subject.

"Mom! Dad! Did you hear what Peter just told me!?"

Silence. Her parents looked at them, puzzled. Peter explained again how things worked at his school. "So what you're saying," Marcus queried, "is that your grades reflect your actual knowledge and effort?" Peter nodded. "And how is that working out for you?"

"So far I've scraped by passing grades on natural sciences and math. But those were always my weakest subjects. I am expecting a definite upturn in grades this year," he said with a sidelong glance at his parents.

Marcus spoke. "Hm! That might be worth looking into, don't you think, Tina?"

All eyes were on Tina, and she squeaked "yes" and busied herself with her food.

Peter's father, who could be about as tactful as a rhino with hernia, thought this an opportune moment to interrogate Tina in what he thought was an inclusive and friendly manner. More often than not, it came off as badgering more than anything else. When Tina made the mistake of saying she was fond of some art, Peter's father cranked the intensity up to eleven. Peter saw with some alarm that Tina started looking overwhelmed, and to his own surprise he spoke up.

"Da-ad! At least give her time to think and answer before you badger her with the next goddamn question!"

Silence. Complete silence. His dad's face turned red, but not from anger. Peter and his father's eyes were locked to each other. Peter's father looked away and muttered something about getting carried away. "Like you always do," Peter and his mom said simultaneously, breaking the awkward spell. The table burst out laughing, Peter's father included.

He turned to Tina again and was awarded with a huge smile and the words "thank you" mouthed at him. He shruggged, blushed, and felt like he could take on the world all by himself.

The dinner was over and they returned to the living room where more talk of art made Peter's eyes glaze over. He fell into a kind of waking stupor, resting his gaze on Tina. She jerked upright from what appeared to be the same stupor as Thora spoke to her. And suddenly Thora addressed him: "...would you like that, Peter?"

"Huh? I'm sorry, what?"

Thora snickered and spoke again. "I asked Tina to show you the apartment before you both die of boredom. Would you like that, Peter?"

He nodded gratefully and got up, following Tina. He fell in step beside her and he could hear her whisper "finally" as they sauntered out of the living room.

She gave him a perfunctory tour of the very large penthouse apartment, not very enthusiastically, but not unfriendly either. He got the distinct feeling she was embarassed about something but didn't want to pry, as he felt that it was none of his business.

"...and this is my room. Please come in." She held the door open for him and let him inside. He didn't know what to expect from her room, but he was pleasantly surprised. A huge bookshelf took up most of the wallspace on one side, while a desk with an ocean view faced the window. Her bed and nightstand took up the wall furthest from the door, while a TV and stereo occupied the fourth wall. A few posters adorned some of the free wall space, and pictures of Tina and her parents decorated her desk. Clothes were piled on the bed and chairs, and she hurriedly cleared them away, muttering apologies for the mess.

"Eh, my room isn't exactly the picture of tidiness either," he offered, making her smile. He busied himself studying her bookshelf, like he always did when visiting someone for the first time. They spent the next half hour eagerly discussing books and authors, sometimes disagreeing but mostly agreeing, to his great delight. This segued into discussions about movies where the pattern of tastes repeated itself, and before they knew what had happened they had agreed on a movie date, just like that.

A couple of hours flew by where they talked about everything and nothing. It would be one of Peter's dearest memories, this evening with their carefree discussions. She came across as a caring, big hearted, but guarded girl with a very serious outlook on life. She had a sometimes quirky, sometimes wicked, but mostly goofy sense of humour. Her laughter was contagious and hearty, and it took him by surprise the first time she roared with laughter.

He was, in a word, smitten.

When, after a while, their parents came looking for them, they found them in her room, her crosslegged on her bed looking him deep into his eyes as she argued a point, him in her office chair eagerly leaning forward to catch every gesture and nuance of her argument.

They said their goodbyes, and Peter was walking on clouds. His parents gave up trying to talk to him, although they exchanged knowing smirks over his goify dreamy smile.

 

[Wolfman]

Part 4

"Excuse me."

A few days after the dinner, Thora's soft voice called out to Peter on his rounds. He turned around and smiled at her, a smile she did not return.

"Could I have a word with you? In private?"

"Of course," Peter replied. He entered the penthouse again, a bit apprehensive. Was she going for a new round of sex with him? Was she about to interrogate him regarding Tina and himself? Was something wrong?

She closed the door behind them, and only then did her facade crack into a big hearty smile. Peter exhaled, not realizing he'd been holding his breath.

"I was right about you," she said with a smile. "Tina hasn't stopped talking about y-"

"STOP!" Peter didn't want to hear this. He didn't want a behind the scenes confirmation of how things were going.

"I know you mean well for both Tina and myself, and believe me when I tell you it's a huge liad off my mind that both you and my parents are rooting for us. But I want things between us to develop naturally from now on, warts and all."

Thora nodded. "You're right of course. Forgive my pushiness, but it's just, I've never seen Tina this way before." A warm smile. "And to honour your wish, I'm not going to elaborate on what I mean with 'this way'. That's for you to find out."

Peter smiled, happy that they resolved things so quickly. "One thing, though."

Uh oh. Now what?

"Tina is still not 16. If you want to get intim-"

"Enough!" Anger flared in him at the implicatìon. "Look, Tina and I have met ONCE, and we are going to the movies this saturday! I don't yet know her well enough to even consider getting intimate with her! If we ever get to that stage, great! But it's not something I want to rush with her, because..."

Because what? He was lusting after her, as any straight man would. Because he respected her? Yes. Did that mean he had no respect for Thora who seduced him and fucked him silly? Of course not. What then? And the answer came to him in a rush of understanding: Boundaries.

"Because if it happens between us it's because we'll both want it. Much like with what happened with us. Look, I'm as horny as the next guy, but I do understand the concept of boundaries and respecting them."

Thora smiled again. "Your reasoning is sound, Peter. I won't interfere with y- AND PLEASE TELL YOUR FATHER THAT WE LOOK FORWARD TO SEEING YOU ALL AGAIN!"

Huh?

The door shut behind him, and he turned around, knowing what he'd see. Tina. She stood looking from Peter to Thora and back again, a quizzical look on her face.

Peter flushed, hoping she hadn't overheard the real conversation.

"What's going on," Tina inquired.

"Oh, I was just asking Peter to convey a message to his father," Thora replied, fidgeting with her fingers. Tina's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing.

Peter sighed. For a psychologist, Thora was a terrible liar. The fallout from this could be catastrophic. But he saw no way of saving this situation with all three people present.

"I have to continue my rounds," he said abruptly and loudly, before going on to ramble on about WHERE he still needed to deliver the newspapers, hoping they'd both get the hint.

He left and continued his deliveries, his mind a miasma of hope and despair, his stomach leaden. After a couple more deliveries he found Tina waiting for him by his trolley, shooing off people that wanted to snatch away newspapers from it.

"Tina." She turned and looked at him imploringly. "What were you talking about. Mom insists she only wanted for you to deliver a message to your father, but I can tell she's lying."

Peter looked into her eyes. She was confused and hurt. "Your mother loves you and is looking out for you." She scoffed angrily, but her eyes softened a touch.

"She knows we're going to the movies together. She wanted to know what my intentions regarding you were. I told her."

Eyes flashing, she fixed him with a stare, her face flushed with anger. "Oh I see!" Her voice dripped with venomous anger. "And what ARE 'your intentions' toward me, if I may ask?"

"To get to know you better."

That took the wind out of her sails a little, but she was not fully satisfied with his answer. "Why do you want to get to know me better then, Peter?"

"Because I like you. Because the part of the evening we spent in your room talking was one of the best evenings of my life," he replied, truthfully.

Her looks softened considerably after that, but there was now a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Just 'one of' the best evenings? Not THE best evening?"

He felt he was out of any immediate danger, but he couldn't help himself. "Well, you're up against some PRETTY stiff competition," he ventured. Her eyes betrayed her again. Anger, hurt, and outrage was building in her, so he quickly defused it.

"I mean, there's the first time I got to watch fireworks as a kid, the first time I cracked open an actual book and got lost in it, the time my parents found my teddy bear I'd lost, but... nah, come to think of it, the evening spent with you is a photo finish winner."

He smiled teasingly at her and she made a rather poor effort of hiding her own smile. "It better be," she mock grumbled. "If I ever lost out to a moldy old teddy bear I'd never leave home again."

He turned serious then. "I love my teddy bear still, make no mistake about that. He's been there for me since I was a toddler. But I loved the evening we spent talking together more than I could ever imagine."

She smiled brightly at him. "Same," she replied shyly.

"And I am really looking forward to seeing you again this saturday," he continued.

"Me too.," was her response.

Happy awkward silence.

"Don't be upset with your Mom. She's only looking out for you. I told her my intentions and she seemed happy with my answer. I must admit, I thought it a bit much of her to question me like that, but I can understand why she did it. I think you should forgive her but make your boundaries clear to her. She's a psychologist, and she doesn't seem unreasonable to me."

This came out calmly and in a meadured tone. She listened and nodded as he spoke.

"She has her reasons," she replied. "I won't get into it now, but she has her reasons."

"When you're ready," he replied. "I also have some demons that may be good for you to know about. But only when I'm ready."

Another silence where they were both lost in thought.

"Well, I really should finish my route now. I'll earn the ire of my boss if I'm late."

She nodded and looked at him with a shy smile. "Thank you for taking your time to talk to me, Peter."

"I don't want there to be any misunderstanding between us, Tina. I like you and I want you to like me too."

Her smile grew wider, and she took a step towards him. "You 'like' me, huh? Well let me give you a little hint, Peter." And she leaned in and gave him a quick peck on his cheek.

Stunned, his hand flew to where her lips had touched him. She stood in front of him, blushing and biting her lower lip before abruptly turning around and walking away. He followed her with his eyes and saw her turn around to look at him, a bright smile on her face each time she saw him looking at her.

He remembered very little else from that day.

 

[Wolfman]

Part 5.

Saturday arrived way too soon and not fast enough.

He spent half an hour showering, cursing the newspaper ink that seemed to permeate his hands and lower arms. He shaved and put on cologne, something that really shocked his mother and sister. He spent an bour agonizing over what to wear until his big sister showed him some mercy and helped him put together a fairly well coordinated look.

On the commuter train into town he tried calming himself with some music, but he mostly ended up with lovesongs, happy or otherwise. With a frustrated grunt he tore off his headset and rode the rest of the way downtown with only his thoughts for company.

The peck on his cheek was still etched in his head, as was the smile she gave him when she turned around to look at him when she walked away from him. A part of him longed for her company, another wished to run away. He'd never been so nervous in his life.

He was waiting outside the cinema, doing a slow and deliberate 360 degrees turn looking for her. As the minutes ticked by, he he grew ever more apprehensive. Maybe she'd changed her mind? Maybe she thought they were supposed to meet at another cinema? Maybe-

"Hi Peter."

And there she was. She had managed to come up behind him unnoticed despite his constant rotating and looking for her. They looked each other over. She wore a light brown formfitting leather jacket, black and white knee length plaid skirt, a black beret at a jaunty angle, black pantyhose, black suede shoes, and a thick black cotton sweater. The strap of a leather purse matching the jacket was draped across her chest, with the purse resting under her right arm. She was holding two beverage cups in her hands.

"I thought some hot cocoa would be nice," she told him. Peter looked at her and smiled. And smiled. And then her words got through to him, and he gratefully accepted the cup she held out to him.

He opened the lid and took a sip. It had a generous amount of whipped cream, and after his first sip she started giggling.

"I thought you shaved today," she said, pointing to his newly aquired whipped cream moustache. She showed mercy on him and wiped it off with a napkin, and he on impulse leaned in and gave her a belated reply to the peck on the cheek she'd given him, causing her to blush.

"What was that for," she asked, smiling and blushing. "That was what I wanted to do the other day when you did the same. And this," he gave her a slightly bigger peck on the other cheek, "is for being kind enough to clean up my face."

"Don't be silly," she muttered with a smile. They drank their cocoas and made some guarded and nervous small talk before they headed in to watch the movie. It was a re-issue of a very popular fantasy franchise movie based on some very popular books. He'd seen it before, she hadn't.

The movie had its fair share of tense moments and a few jump scares, and about halfway into the movie Peter was delighted to find her hand seeking out his to hold onto. Her hand was dry and cool and soft, and he could smell her slightly sweet scent despite the stench of popcorn in the theatre.

After the movie they burst out into bright disorienting daylight, and decided to go to a café to discuss the movie. They compared scenes, talked about omissions and whether or not they were necessary, and how well the books had been adapted.

When that subject had been exhausted, they discussed movie adaptations in general, and bizarre book adaptations of movies. They shared similar views on many of these subjects, and after a while they talked about personal favourites and suddenly they were talking about personal stuff, full stop.

She looked at him and furriwed her brow, a pensieve look on her face. "Penny for your thoughts," he said.

A pause.

"I think I really like you, Peter. And I get the feeling you like me too." Peter nodded. "I do. I really do," he replied.

"The other day when I met you at work, we were talking about demons. Remember?" Peter nodded. "Well, if we're going to get... close, I need to tell you mine. I think I can trust you."

Peter grasped her hand, making her jump and squeak a little before she relaxed. "Sorry, I'm a bit jumpy- don't you dare letting go, Peter!" He happily kbluged her.

"Yes you can trust me," he replied. She held his eyes with hers for a moment and then she nodded with a tired look in her eyes. Peter was alarmed to see tears welling up in them, and he was unsure what to do, so he grabbed her kther hand and told her: "You don't have to tell me now if you don't want to."

"But I want to," she replied. "Because I like you." And so she began.

"It's no secret that my parents are rich. Obscenely rich. You'd think I lived a happy and carefree life, right?" She looked at him, clearly expecting a reply.

He thought for a moment, then: "Not necessarily. If people know you're rich, how can you be sure they like you for you and not your money? And so, how can you truly trust someone? How can you trust me?"

She nodded vigorously. "Exactly! That's exactly it! How CAN I trust you? I mean, don't get me wrong, you seem genuine and nice, but how do I know it's not an act?"

He sighed. "You can't know. I don't think there's anything I can say to convince you. You'll either learn to trust me, however long that takes, or you won't. Words are just that: words. And words are cheap."

She nodded. "I like what you're saying, especially about how I can't trust you until I know you better. Thank you, Peter." She did not let go of his hands. "As you can imagine, I don't have many friends because of this."

A sudden frustrated outburst: "Ugh! I hate talking about this! I hate sounding like the "poor little rich girl"!" Peter looked at her calmly.

"Would it surprise you if I told you I don't have many friends either?" She gave him a quuzzical look. "Frankly, yes," she replied."You don't?" she continued.

Peter shook his head. "No. I have a hard time trusting people. My reasons are different than yours, but no less valid."

And so he told her about moving from another part of the country, how he initially was ostracized for his dialect and for preferring books instead of football, and how that turned into bullying. What hurt the most was that the bullies one-on-one with him were perfectly nice, but turned on him in groups. It had culminated in a game where the bullies wanted to play slave owners and Peter was appointed the slave, of course. The game had turned serious when he'd been tied up and whipped for real on more than one occasion, and his pathetic reasoning for returning to the game: "at least they're playing with me". It turned dangerous one day when they had tied him up, whipped him, and set fire to the ground around Peter. Only the interference from an older girl had stopped them from seriously hurting Peter. He was 8 at the time.

Tina looked horrified, tears running down her face. "No."

"Yes," he confirmed.

"But you seem so normal. So confident." She was holding on to his hands as if both their lives depended on it.

"That's partly an act. But I am doing much better now. And it's taught me some valuable lessons about reading people and their intentions. But in some things, my self esteem is very low."

She looked miserable all of a sudden. "I feel kind of stupid now," she said. "Why," he asked her. She shrugged. "Because..." She seemed to struggle to find the words. "Well, because you went through Hell as a child, while I-"

"Please stop," Peter said. "Look Tina, this isn't a competition in suffering. Me having had a shitty experience does not in any way invalidate your shitty experiences. What you feel is valid and should be taken seriously, as should my feelings from my trauma. Don't belittle your experiences because you feel someone's had it worse than you. OK?"

She was quiet for a long time. She kept looking at him. He looked back calmly. This was a lot to digest for her. Hell, for anyone. Peter had, after many therapy sessions, made a semblance of peace with his trauma.

She finally spoke. "Thank you for trusting me with this, Peter. It means a lot that you told me this. I need some time to digest this, but... I believe maybe I can trust you, Peter."

"I can't tell you how glad that makes me feel," he replied. "And I would like to say the same to you. Thanks for trusting me with your demons. It means a lot, more than I can say."

"Then don't say it, silly," she teased, lightening the mood as she stuck her tongue out at him. "It, silly," he retorted. "Now what are you gojng to do about me speaking the Forbidden Words?"

She swatted him playfully and giggled. "You're silly!" she exclaimed.

The next half hour saw them just laughing with goofy humour, but there was a deeper warmth between them that they both noticed but didn't speak of, lest the spell would break.

He followed her home, both walking slowly to drag out the time before they parted ways. When they finally reached her door she grasped his hands again. "I had a wonderful time tonight, Peter. Call me when you get home so I know you're safe, OK?" And then she kissed him gently on the lips. Before he could kiss her back, she was gone. It took him 15 minutes to move from his spot.

He was so much in the pink clouds that he forgot to call her back.

 

[Wolfman]

Part 6.

Peter was having the most wonderful dream. He was in a lush green garden and it was sunny and they were in the shade of a tree and they were naked and the sky was ringing and-"

He woke up. The garden was gone. The ringing continued. It stopped abruptly as he heard his sister answer the phone with a groggy voice. A tone of alarm, then a placating voice before the door to his room flew open with his sister staring daggers at him. Her face was red with anger and she told him "You idiot! Go to the phone and apologize IMMEDIATELY!"

What the- Oh shit! OOOOOH SHIT! He was out of the bed, past his sister, and on the phone in the space of three seconds.

He heard a ragged impatient breath and he knew it was Tina and he knew she'd been crying.

"Tina I am so s-"

"YOU BASTARD! Do you know I sat waiting for your call until my parents had to force me to bed!? I haven't slept a wink because of you, you thoughtless, selfish.... PRICK! We had a wonderful day together and I just thought we might have something after we opened up togerher like we did and..." she started weeping again, "and just went 'LALALA I'M NOT GOING TO BOTHER TELLING MY GIRLF- HER THAT I'M OKAY, LET HER WORRY LALALA!"

Peter stood there and he took it. He felt lower than a worm, and he was tearing up from knowing how distressed and upset she was. So he let her vent her bile which he felt was justified. He did dimly register that she had almost used the word "girlfriend" about herself, though.

"...and I don't want to talk to you EVER AGAIN!" And the line wnet dead. With a sinking feeling, he realized that she'd hung up on him, her final words being that she didn't want to hear from him.

He broke down, huge sobs wracking his body. Guilt, sadness, and despair fell on him like relentless merciless waves. He'd ruined it. He'd ruined it even before there was a tangible "it" to ruin. His sister stood looking at him.

"Well? Are you going to wallow in self pity and ruin this or are you going to call her back?"

Call her back? "But she said-" His sister cut him off. "Yeah. I heard her. Women say things like that when they're uoset. Why do you think she is so upset with you?"

Peter thought about it, then said: "Because I broke my promise to her." His sister countered impatiently "and why do you think that hurt her so much?"

"Because... she trusts me." His sister rolled her eyes. "Try again, brother."

Peter furrowed his brow. "Because she likes me?" A short derisive laugh from his sister, then: "God, you really are clueless, aren't you?"

She smacked him on the head somewhat hard. "The only emotion that can stir up such an imoressive amount of anger and hurt feelings, little brother, is love. Now call her back, apologize, and prepare to eat heaps of humble pie."

He was stunned. But it made sense, what she was saying. He just didn't see it because he didn't dare hope it was true. But it was. There was no other explanation. "Thank you," he told his big sister. She muttered something about finally getting some sleep around here and closed the door.

He called Tina. The receiver was picked on on the first ring. "Tina, please listen to me. Please." A non-comittal grunt was all he heard but shee didn't hang up.

Peter bared himself completely over the phone. He told her how much her parting kiss had meant to him. He told her he had been rooted to the spot for 15 minutes, less the spell her kiss had cast on him would be broken. He told her how he had replayed the day and their previous encounters in his head on a happy repeated loop until that was all he could think of. He told her how devastated he was that his forgetfulness had caused her so much pain. (Huh! Not THAT much pain" came her terse reply), and he told her how much going on without her would hurt, as he'd grown very fond of her through their meetings.

Silence. Long agonizing silence. He could hear her breathe over the phone, but she didn't speak. Then "I thought I could trust you, Peter."

"You CAN! I fucked up today when I didn't call you when I got home. I think that upset you because you care about me and you were afraid that something had hapoened and at the same time you were afraid to call because you didn't want to feel clingy or pushy and..."

A small "yes" gave him the confirmation he needed.

"Look Tina, I don't want to say any big words over the phone. Can we maybe meet tom- later today?" An eager "Yes!" made his heart jump with hope.

They agreed to meet at the municipal Botanical Garden and stroll through the autumn leaves and colours. They hung up and went to bed. Peter had promised to apologize to his sister for waking her up.

The morning after, apology delivered to his sister, he dressed after breakfast and went to the Botanical Garden. He had made painstakingly sure that they agreed on the same entrance. On impulse, he bought a single red rose which he was now shifting from one hand to the other, afraid he'd crush it.

"Hello Peter," came her voice from behind. How she always managed to sneak up on him was beyond him, but here she was, at least. Red puffy eyes and dark rings under them told Peter enough.

"You look wonderful," he muttered. A dry derisive laugh was her reply. "Oh yes, I look simply WONDERFUL!" Then she stopped herself, looked down, looked up at him, looked down, then said: "I'm sorry. I don't want to be mean, but I'm still upset with you and I didn't get much sleep."

"Don't apologize. I deserve you being uoset with me. All I can do is ask for your forgiveness and promise not to frighten you like that again."

He paused. "I'd probably react the same way if the roles were turned." She looked up at him then, tears in her eyes. He couldn't take the pain etched across her face!

He started crying. "Tina, I-I'm so so sorry for frightening you like that! If I could turn back time and undo i,t I would!"

Seeing him cry startled her, and suddenly they were in each other's arms crying and apologizing and babbling. After a little while they quieted down and just savoured the embrace, oblivious to the tittering and cute comments about young love from people passing by.

Presently and very reluctantly they slowly broke apart. She looked up at him and told him in a warm stern voice to never frighten her like that again. He nodded, lost for words because of the beautiful young woman in his arms. And then he kissed her. He kissed her in earnest.

A tiny squeak of surprise escaped from her before she with a deep contented sigh first accepted, then leaned into, then reciprocated the kiss.

Her lips were soft and sweet, and she kissed back with a fervent eagerness that spoke of inexperience and sincere love. They settled into the kiss and found a pleasant rhythm as they both relaxed and went with the moment.

When they finally, reluctantly broke off the kiss, he held her tightly and looked into her eyes, willing her to see what he wanted to tell her because The Words sounded so hollow when spoken. Still, there was nothing for it. He needed to tell her. She needed to know.

He slowly backed out of the embrace, but still held her hands in his, his eyes locked to hers. "Tina, this sounds so lame, and I think you know what I'm going to say, but I need to say it so that there is no doubt: I have fallen in love with you." He held out the rose, and she took it gingerly from his hands, smelled it, smiled, looked at him with a warm and teasing smile and replied "Duh!"

He laughed and embraced her ("don't crush the rose!") and kissed her again, deeper and longer than their first kiss. "I have fallen in love with you too, you absolute idiot" she told him when they came up for air.

They ventured into the park of the Botanical Garden, hokding hands and trading kisses, running through dead leaves to see them fly and make that wonderful autumn sound of dry leaves.

They found a sunny and fairly warm spot under a big maple tree and sat down, basking win the sun, all warm from the newfound and now official love. He sat leaning against the tree while she sat with her back to him between his legs, leaning into his chest.

They professed their love for each other over and over again, the way only new lovers could get away with with each other. The kind of moochy talk that would have most diabetics reaching for their insulin in disgusted panic.

After a while, they just sat in comfortable silence, their hands entwined and resting on her stomach. He looked down on her. Her face was peaceful, and she was smiling. And, as it turned out, she was asleep in his arms.

His heart melted all over again when he realized this. He let her sleep as he drank in every detail of her. Her soft strawberry blonde hair. Her freckles. Her smiley dimples. Her nose. Her chin. Her soft white skin. The way she breathed, almost without sound in his arms. The warmth of her hands that seemed to hold on to him even now. Her long slender legs. Her breasts, tastefully padded by warm clothing. Her hips, so mesmerizingly curved despite her overall slim body type.

She was a perfect beauty both physically and as a person. And she loved him. He let her sleep, but caressed her, stroked her hair, and whispered sweet nothings in her ears, sometimes eliciting a grunted response, sometimes not.

Peter, for the first time in his life was at absolute peace and in a state of perfect bliss.

 

[Wolfman]

Part 7.

He couldn't fall asleep even though he was tired. He watched her in his arms, smiling and peaceful in her sleep.

He'd never felt such tenderness towards anyone before. It was a new and wonderful feeling, though slightly intimidating. He understood now how people could willingly sacrifice themselves for their loved ones.

She muttered in her sleep and then her eyes started to flutter open. She started at the unfamiliar surroundings. Then she saw his face, and her sleepy face broke into a smile.

"Hey you," she said dreamily. "Hello sleepyface," he replied.

"Was I asleep long? Did I- I hope I didn't snore? Please tell me I didn't snore. Did I say anything in my sleep?" She was even cute when she was babbling uncertainly.

He pulled her closer to him and kissed her to stop the worried chatter. "To answer your questions: you slept for about an hour. You are cute when you're sleeping. No snores. Incomprehensible muttering. Minimal drooling."

At that, her hand flew up to her mouth. His snickering told her she'd been had. "Hey!" she protested, "no fair!"

"I couldn't resist teasing you just a little. But to tell you the truth, I just sat and watched you, thinking how lucky I am and how beautiful you are."

She leaned in and kissed him. "Thank you for watching over me when I slept," she whispered. "Anytime," he whispered and kissed her back.

They got up and went to one of the local and inexpensive indian restaurants. She'd never tried indian foid before, but to his joy she liked it a lot. So much so that she spent the next thirty minutes discussing with the waiter about different types of indian food. In the end the chef had to be called to answer her many questions.

After they left the restaurant, Peter looked at her in awe. "You really don't do things in half measures, do you," he said.

She shrugged. "No, I suppose I don't," she replied happily. "And why should I or anyone, for that matter? Life's too short."

"That makes sense," he conceded and fell silent. He hadn't considered that outlook before. Stupid of him, now that he thought about it. "That makes a lot of sense, actually," he said after a minute.

"Well I think so," she said. "I want to have as few regrets as possible when I pack it in in the distant future."

He embraced her from behind as they walked, making them walk awkwardly in step. "See, here I keep thinking you can't possibly be more awesome and then you say or do something that just WHOOSH! resets the scale of awesomeness."

She shrugged. "It's what I do," she said breezily and with a teasing grin.

They walked towards her home savouring their love and the beautiful autumn day.

Saying goidbye outside her house was a long drawn out affair, but in the end he left for home. The first thing he did when he got hkme was to call her and tell her he was home, safe and sound.

 

[Wolfman]

Part 8.

Some weeks went by. They spent as much time together as they possibly could, and so much time on the phone that their families started to complain. He also was deliciously distracted on a daily basis on his paper route, as a certaon young strawberry blonde girl took it upon herself to accompany him and watch him work.

There were a few arguments and disagreements, of course. But nothing major, and the making up part was always sweet.

As far as physical intimacy went, they had not yet had sex, but their makeout sessions were growing hotter and heavier, and there had been more than one instance of dry humping that had left them both more than a little hot and bothered.

They had agreed to wait until she turned 16 before having actual sex to be in compliance with the law. She had suggested, after a particularly hot and heavy makeout session, that they could do "other stuff", but he had adviced against it as that might be a slippery slope towards having actual sex before the legal age of consent.

She reluctantly agreed. There had been many a late night where they lay in their separate beds in their separate bedrooms in their separate apartments and masturbated for dear life, while hectic rose tinted images of their first night of passion played before their eyes. This was never mentioned.

The weeks before her birthday he spent looking for a gift for her. He settled on a pretty pendant. It was a sliver necklace holding a stone inset in silver whose colour matched her hair. He also, with much stammering and blushing, bought a pack of condoms. A week before her birthday he received an invitation to a birthday party in her honour. Her birthday happened to fall on a friday, and it started late enough for him to go home, shower and change, and then get back in time for the party.

On his round that afternoon, he saw neither hide nor hair of Tina, and the blinds were down all over the penthouse. He was a bit puzzled by that, but the party was still hours away. So he shrugged and made sure he finished the route as early as possible.

He rushed home, showered, changed, put on a luxurious pair of boxers he'd bought in case they got the chance to be intimate, put the pack of condoms in a pocket with a fierce blush, grabbed her gift and birthday card, and set off for her birthday party.

He arrived at the time indicated in the invitation. The blinds in the penthouse were up, but the lighting inside was subdued. The small path leading up to the door was lined with little candles, flickering brightly and warmly in the early December night.

There wasn't much sound coming from the apartment, but he knew she didn't have many friends, so it was probably just a handful of people, including her parents. They had already talked about him sleeping over, and he had brought a satchel of changes of clothes.

He rang the doorbell. He heard it clearly, and waited with bated breath for Tina, Thora, or Marcus to open the door and invite him in. After a minute, he rang it again. He was a bit puzzled, as he could clearly hear the bell and no loud noises came from within the house. Two minutes passed, and he was torn between feeling anxious, annoyed, and expectant.

He checked the invitation. He checked the address. He checked the time. He checked the watch. They were all in agreement: he was where he was supposed to be, when he was supposed to be there.

What the hell was going on? He rang the bell again and knocked on the door, the first sour taste of panic making itself known. What if something had gone wrong? He saw a multitude of horrifying scenarios on his inner eye: a fire that had choked everyone inside. Toxic food knocking everyone out. Someone flipping out and killing everyone. (The worst scenario: She had set him up, and was laughing about the lovesick paperboy that, thinking he was good enough for her, pounded in vain on her door).

He thought of shouting out her name, then thought better of it. His knocking on the door had already stirred the curiosity in a neighbouring apartment, where an adult couple scrutinized him intently. He waved at them, and they recognized him. They opened a window and asked him if something was wrong.

He explained the situation and was told that Thora and Marcus were away for the weekend. But they knew that Tina, responsible as she was, was home alone for the weekend. As they explained this, the entrance door flew open, and Tina's face, flustered and hectic, peered at him from behind the door.

A wave of sweet relief washed over him. He thanked the neighbours and entered the apartment. She closed the door, and he seized her head and stepped in and gave her a fervent and slkghtly brutish kiss.

He looked at her deeply, felt his resistance melting away as he saw her flustered face, kissed her gently and said "Happy Birthday". A shy smile and an awkward hand putting a strand of hair behind an ear. Only now did he realize that she had dressed up for the occasion.

He took a step back, holding her hands. "Let me look at you, Tina." She looked stunning. She was wearing a black shimmering dress with high splits and a neckline that plunged to her midriff. Her hair was done up in a bun held in place by what he thought of as chopsticks, black wooden pins decorated with pink, white, and red flowers. She wore elegant black slippers and she wore no stockings or pantyhose.

He watched her, awestruck. "You look... just... wow! I can't... with words... just... WOW!" She oozed of both natural and refined sensuality. The dress was silk or a silk-like material, and she was very obviously not wearing a bra underneath. Her nipples made hard little points, teasing him.

"That's exactly the reaction I was hoping for." She said, smiling coyly. "Well mission accomlished," he countered with a grin.

He looked her over, a "worried" frown on his face. "Something is missing, though." She looked at him in alarm, anger flashing in her eyes. "MISSING!? Do you know how-"

He smiled and held up his hands in a calming gesture. "Fortunately, I have just the thing. Give me a second." Curiosity and expectation replaced anger, as she understood what was going on.

He handed her the card first. He had struggled for days to write a few simple lines. "This gift will match and complement you, but it will never EVER outshine your beauty. I hope you like it. Iove you. Love, Peter."

As she read the card, he produced the little giftwrapped jewelry box. She took it from him almost reverently, gently removed the bow and set it aside with the card, and tore open the paper. She opened the box, and to Peter's eternal joy and delight, she gasped in surprise and joy.

She put the box down gently, and the next thing Peter knew he was almost knocked over by Tina as she hugged him and kissed him deep and long.

"Peter, it's PERFECT," she exclaimed a few minutes later as they came up for air. "Oh, and the card! Thank you SO much, this is the loveliest gift anyone's ever given me! And it matches my HAIR! Oh Peter!" And he blissfully drowned in her kisses again.

"Let me help you put it on, see how it fits," he asked of her a few minutes later. She looked doubtful all of a sudden. "I have nickel allergy, maybe I should ch-"

Peter smiled. "No worries, I remembered you told me about your first ear rings. It's all silver."

With a smile, she lifted the loose hair bun away from her neck, turned her back on him and looked back over her shoulder with a very flirtatious look in her eyes. "Then by all means, help me with my necklace, Sir"

Peter struggled a little with the clasp, but managed to open it without destroying anything. He put the necklace on, acutely aware of hiw beautiful she was, how good she smelled, how intimately close he was standing to her, and the fact that they had the whole weekend ahead of them.

He adjusted the necklace and straightened out a knot on the fine chain, brushing her right boob in the process. He hesitated, an then leaned in and kissed the back of her neck.

A little shiver ran through her, and she let go of her hair as she turned around and looked at him. Her eyes were glazed and her cheeks and her chest were a hectic red. But there was also a hint of apprehension there.

"Food!" Her exclamation caught him by surprise, but he recovered quickly. "Food is ready for us," she offered by way of explanation.

Oh. Right. She led the way to the dining room where the table was set for two. It was dark except for candlelight, and there was a delicious aromatic smell that reminded him of...

"Indian food? You cooked indian food for us?" She nodded, unable to not beam with pride. "It smells wonderful," he exclaimed

They sat down and helped themselves to the food. While they ate, she explained where she bought the ingredients, what substitutes she had to make, and the difficulties she'd had preparing the meal. She, like most cooks, was critical of her own cooking and perceived shortcomings.

She had nothing to fear. As a first attempt it was an impressive effort, and he told her so. She looked down at her plate, blushing, clearly pleased with the compliment.

They finished the meal, and she put on some calm and relaxing music. They sat down next to each other awkwardly, both feeling a tension between them, unspoken but very much there.

This was The Day. She was legally old enough to have sex with him. She had clearly dressed up for the occasion, and she was as alluring as a siren to him. And yet she seemed nervous.

He leaned in and kissed her. She returned the kiss half-heartedly and fidgeted nervously. Peter thought it best to grab the bull by the horns.

"Is something the matter, Tina? You seem very nervous."

She looked at him, looked away, looked at him again, and he was startled to see tears in her eyes.

"I'm nervous, Peter. I think you know why we're alone here and why I dressed up like this."

Peter nodded. "Tina, you look fantastic. You're the most wonderful girl in the world. You are kind, smart, funny, beautiful, and sexy as hell."

"But....?" she ventured nervously.

"But nothing, Tina. I'd like nothing more than to undress with you and make love with you right now. But I think you might have been overthinking this and put too many expectations on your behalf into this."

She pouted. "Maybe. But I want to have sex with you, Peter! It's just, you've been with other girls. You know what it's like! What if I do everything wrong? What if you don't like me? What if-"

He'd heard enough. He leaned in and kissed her deeply. "Just shut up and let it happen, Tina. I brought protection, and-"

"We won't need that," she interrupted. "Uh- what?" He hadn't expected this. "What are you saying, Tina?"

"I convinced mom to get our doctor to prescribe the pill."

Oh. Damn. He'd tried sex with and without condoms. With condoms was nice. Without? Heaven.

"Tina, just stop thinking about this now. And start feeling. Your body will tell you what is right for you, and you need to tell me what you like and don't like. I promise I will do the same. OK?"

She smiled at him with gratitude, and he abruptly stood up. She looked at him questioningly as he stood in front of her, and knealed down pushing himself between her legs.

Her breath hastened as he took charge of the situation. He pulled her towards him until her butt was at the edge of the seat, then placed a hand on each knee and slowly pushed the front of her dress upwards. She looked down at him, her breath hitching as her arousal mounted.

"Be gentle, Peter. Please be gentle."

He let the kisses he gingerly placed on the inside of her exposed thighs answer for him. He pushed the dress further up and stopped in surprise. She wasn't wearing any panties.

"I see SOMEONE came prepared," he said in a teasing tone. She giggled and blushed. He pulled her a little bit closerand smelled her. Fresh, soapy, and musky in equal measure. "You smell good," he told her.

And then, ever so gently, he tasted her. A slow broad lick over her vulva. She gasped and jerked her hips. "Oh! That was... do it again?" He complied. She was more prepared this time, and let out a contented sigh. "I like this, Peter. Please don't stop."

She was already glistening, and her lips had started to open. He licked her inner and outer lips, and made some detours to lick her inner thighs. She sighed contentedly and arched up towards him eagerly.

He started licking her clitoris, at first eliciting yelps and demands of "gentler, please", then as he found the right pace and pressure, her sighs turned to moans. Soft little mkans that could have been mistaken for small sobs, but soon enough they grew deeper and more drawn out as she started thrusting toward him. Her hands gripped his hair and her legs were raised up and out, exposing her fully to him.

As his pace grew, so did her responss. She pulled at his hair and wrapped her legs around his head. It built up and built up and built up until she seemed to cramp and flail her arms. Her mouth was open in a silent scream and one more lick sent her over the edge. She screamed and moaned and twitched and flailed about. She squeezed her thighs around Peter's head and he kept licking her and she came on top of the orgasm, so powerful that she began to cry and laugh at the same time.

She pushed at his head. "S-stop! I need to rest!!" He obliged her. He got up and sat next to her and held her until her breath calmed down and returned to normal. He gently undid the sticks that held her hair up and gently stroked those luscious strawberry blonde tresses as they casceaded off her head and down on her shoulders.

She looked up at him, seized his head, and kissed him fervently. "That was wonderful. I want more!"

 

[Wolfman]

Part 9.

He swept down and picked her up in his arms. She was light enough for him to carry her upstairs and gently place her on the bed. She stared at him expectantly and her eyes were drawn to the sizable bulge in his pants.

He understood what she wanted and undressed in front of her. He took his time, just to build up the tension and expectation. His sweater went first, and then the t-shirt underneath. He stood before her barechested, and she came to him and ran her fingers through his chest hair. Her touch was electric, and he gasped as she ran her fingers over his chest and his nipples.

"Those are sensitive," he explained to her. "But what you're doing now feels very good." He was kicking off his socks impatiently as he spoke, and then he unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned and unzipped his pants.

He stood before her now in only his boxers, bulging from his raging hardon. He stepped out of his pants. Her eyes were now fixed solely on his tenting boxers. He gently reached for her hands and placed them on his hips. She was flustered, and seemed unsure of what to do.

He smiled and told her: "Go on. Unwrap your present." He was rewarded with a little chuckle from her and he knew the spell she was under was broken. She kneeled in front of him and slowly, seductively wrapped her hands around the boxer short's elastic. And she started to pull them down, ever so slowly.

She looked up at him with a look of expectant arousal as she torturously slowly pulled his shorts off. First she exposed his wealth of pubic hair, and then she saw the root of his erect member. As she kept pulling, more and more of his erect member was exposed.

The elastic kept his dick pressed down, so when the shorts finally cleared the head, it sprang up and stood at full attention mere centimeters from her face. At that she let out a delighted little shriek and let his shorts fall to the floor.

She looked up at him as if asking for permission. "It's not gojng to bite you. Go ahead and touch it. I'll tell you if it hurts. It's OK."

With his consent, she reached out and gently grabbed it in her hand, sending a surge of pleasure through him. She felt it, tugged at it, looked at it from several angles, leaned close and smelled it. A drop of pre-cum was glistening at the end and she poked at the viscous liquid and marveled at the stickiness and slickness of it.

And then she reached out with her tongue and licked it off his dick. "Mmm! Salty!" was her assessment. She looked at him and gave his dickhead another lick. And another. Each time he gasped and moaned, and his dick twitched from pure pleasure.

His penis wasn't monstrously big at 17 centimeters and a proportionate girth, but it gave her some pause. "This is supposed to go into me," she said in a dreamy voice. "Will it fit?" A note of uncertainty.

"They usually do," he replied. "Only one way to find out, though." Seeing her expression he added softly: "You are in charge with this. We go as fast or as slow as you want. If you want to stop, we stop. This is about pleasure, not obligation." He paused, thought, then added "there's two ways we can do this. You can lower yourself down on top of me, or I can be on top of you and push it in. I will of course stop or withdraw if you ask me to."

She stood up, placed both palms of her hands on his bare chest and gave him a tender kiss. "I love you," she whispered. She pushed the straps of her dress off her shoulders and it fell to the fliir with a sigh and rustle of silk.

She stood before him naked for the first time, and he was speechless. She was perfect. Milky white and smooth skin peppered with a few freckles. Pert and firm breasts that each could fill his hands, with pink nipples and areolas. A flat and soft stomach and hips that curved maddeingly, enticingly.

"My God," he whispered. "You're beautiful!" He leaned down and kissed hear breasts before licking her nipples, making her moan. "I like that," she said, her voice hitching as he tested her nipples and breasts with his mouth. "But I want to make love to you. Peter, I want you between my legs on and top of me."

And with that, she pulled him towards the bed and dragged him down on top of her. He kissed her and let his hands roam over her body while she spread heregs for him. "I'm ready, Peter. Please make love to me."

He got up on his knees and positioned himself between her legs. He grabbed a pillow and placed it under her butt so that it was easier for him to enter her.

Her breath came deep and fast and she seemed more aroused than afraid. He stroked her vagina and found her lubricated and about as open as he could expect. And so he positioned the head of his dick in the opening of her vagina and positioned himself over her so that it was now exerting pressure.

Feeling the warmth and wetness of her vagina was exquisite torture, and it took all his willpower to not just ram into her.

"This," she gasped, "this doesn't hurt at all."
He looked at her, locked eyes with her. She did not lie. There was no pain in her eyes, only happiness and desire and li e.

"Quick or slow, Tina? Quick may give a sharp pain, but then it'll be over quickly. Slow may stop us from causing any damage. It's your body. You decide."

She bit her lip, then made up her mind. "Can I pull you in? But you need to stop if I say stop!" Peter nodded, his mind a haze of lust.

And she placed her hands on his lower back, and she pulled him towards her. They gasped in unison at the sensation, and she did not stop. Before he knew it he was buried to the hilt inside her. He looked down at her in surprise.

She bit her lower lip and shook her head. "It stings a little bit, but it's mostly good. I think it might have opened when I did gymnastics. I've heard that can happen. Or riding a horse. Or a bike."

He savoured the warm tight feeling of her tunnel. It was so good it was almost maddening. She started moving against him, and he withdrew his cock. Again, the sensation was overwhelming. And back in.

Before he knew it, they had fallen into a rhythm. She bent her knees back giving him full and deep access to her vagina. A minute later she had her legs hooked behind his back, urgent red specks on her face, throat, and chest.

She moaned in pleasure and lust, and sometimes the moans were mingled with words of encouragement. "More!... Yes!... Just like that!... Oh my GOD!... Harder!... Faster!... Don't stop!"

Peter, on his end moaned equally loud: "Oh my GOD!... OH SHIT!... Just like that!... Yes!..."

Their rhythm achieved a frantic pace, and then Peter tried to warn her that he was coming, but he couldn't form the words because it was too good making love to her so he roughly seized her head and kissed her with a feverish intensity, and she sensed what was about to happen and speeded up her pace as well and his engorged dick swelled as he started shooting his load inside of her, and his swelling dick sent her over the edge and they both cried out their loving extacy in union.

 

[Wolfman]

Part 10.

He remained inside her as their orgasms subsided. He tried to move off to the side after a while and lie down next to him, but she followed him around and ended up on top on him. His dick turned flaccid and slipped out of her, eliciting a small gasp from her. She looked up at him, and he looked straight back at her. She smiled. The smile grew wider as he smiled back at her. They started laughing. It was the laughter of relief, of love, of happiness after sharing the most intimate of moments.

Peter looked at her and just said "WOW!" She slid up his chest and buried her head between his neck and shoulder and giggled even more. "WOW," she echoed, softly and happily. They rested in that position for a while, gently caressing and kissing each other.

Peter suddenly chuckled. "I'm kind of an idiot," he told her. Her head rose up. "Why do you say that?" And he told her about how anxious he'd been when he rang the doorbell and no one answered. "You're not an idiot, but maybe a little bit insecure and just a liiittle bit dramatic," she offered, shaking her head slightly and rolling her eyes.

"Maybe just a little," he grumbled. And they stopped talking and started caressing and kissing again. Peter felt like he would never get enough of Tina, and judging by the way she was enjoying his attentions, the feeling was mutual. He'd noticed that her groin had started doing some small circular grinding motions against him, and his dick was seriously starting to stiffen again.

She felt his member grow and slid her legs down to the mattress so that she was now straddling him. With hectic red cheeks and an aroused look in her eyes, she slid down and lifted her groin. One of her hands found his hard dick and she a little clumsily guided him to her opening.

She sat down on him too abruptly, and he yelped in pain as his dick bent before leaping away. "Now it's you who has to be gentle," he whispered. She nodded, and tried again. This time she made sure he was inside her before she slowly lowered herself down on him. Watching her on top of him was a sight he'd dreamed about and now he was rewarded, and it was more arousing and beautiful than he'd imagined.

She leaned forward and kissed him, almost causing his dick to pop out of her. "I've fantasized about doing it with you in this position," she admitted. "It feels great."

She started moving against him. She grinded her crotch back and forth, causing his dick to flop back and forth inside of her. OK, that felt weird. Maybe he needed to move as well? He tested more of an up-down and in-out movement, and they instinctively and wordlessly adjusted their movements and their rhythms until they again were fucking in earnest. They went at a slower and more langorous pace this time.

Watching her body on top of him was one of the most sexy images he'd ever seen. At first she leaned towards him, resting her hands in his for leverage, her boobs dangling enticingly over his chest. As their pace quickened she first sat upright, and then leaned backwards resting her hands behind her. Her slim body was now stretched as she gyrated back and forth while he thrust upwards. Her smooth skin was flushed red and covered with a slick film of sweat.

Peter licked his thumb and ever so gently touched her clit, which stood out almist like a beacon now. The effect was electric. After some adjustments, he found the right amount of pressure she preferred, and their pace intensified.

Suddenly she arched her back and her movements were becoming even more hectic, and he knew she was close. He removed his thumb, roughly grabbed her hips, and pounded into her with all his might.

She screamed in extacy and her body convulsed, her groin grinding sharply and hectically back and forth as she climaxed on top of him. The sight, sound, and sensation of her orgasm sent Peter over the edge, and he roared and arched against her, lifting his hips and her off the mattress for a second, all while pumping more of his semen into her.

She collapsed on top of him, her warm and glistening body shivering in the afterthroes of her climax. Her hands now rested on his shoulders, hear head rested under his chin, her warm and hectic breath sending warm pulses of air over his arm. She was straddling him still, but his dick had again re eded and slipped out of her.

They lay for a minute entwined, spent, and satisfied. And then Peter said, between gasps of air: "And... and you... you thought... I wouldn't... like you... or... or that... you wouldn't... be good enough!"

She answered with a deep quick kiss and a happy throaty chuckle. And thaf's how they fell asleep, deep in contented sexual bliss.

 

[Wolfman]

Part 11.

He woke up to her trying to slide off of him. Their skin seemed to be kind of stuck together, so that was a losing proposition. "I didn't mean to wake you," she whispered, "but I really need a shower. Yuck!" She made a face. He smelled her. Her body smelled like sweat, yes, but it wasn't yet an unpleasant smell. Still, a shower sounded nice.

"Is there room for two in the shower," he asked "innocently" knowing very well the answer to that question. She gave him a sly smile and replied "why yes, there is as a matter of fact."

That was all the incentive he needed. "In that case, I need a shower too," he said happily. He jumped out of bed, his dick already at half mast. His semi-engorged state did not escape her. She sauntered over to him, kissed him deeply, and gently grabbed his dick to pull him along to the bathroom.

Giggling like giddy children, they went to the bathroom, her towing him by his dick. Well installed in the shower, they turned on the water and adjusted it to their liking, before embracing and kissing each other under the warm stream. They took it in turn to wash one another, their hands roaming over and exploring each other's wet and warm bodies.

He marveled at the supple softness of her young body as his hands roamed over her shoulders, her breasts. My God, her breasts cried out for him. He leaned in and gently kissed them one at a time, taking the nipples inside his mouth and teasing them with his tongue. He loved the little mewling sounds she made when he hit her in the right spots, and he noticed her breath hitching and her own caresses growing more fervent.

His hands, meanwhile continued down her sides, lingering around the enticing curvature of her hips that mesmerized him so. He was getting hard again. In the back of his mind Peter marveled at the power the women in this family had over men.

His hands then slid to the back, seizing both buttocks, plump and firm, and pulling her to him, his erect cock crashing deliciously with her, eliciting a delighted squeak and giggle from her.

They looked at each other and not a word was said. Peter turned Tina around. His hands roamed the front of her body and cupped and gently squeezed her breasts while he kissed her neck fervently and his erection settled between her legs. She instinctively pushed her butt back towards him and arced her back.

Peter gently maneuvered his cock in position and slid into her welcoming vagina once again. Tina pushed back with her eyes closed and her mouth open in a low sensual moan while steam rose around them as hot water cascaded over them in the spacious shower.

They started slow, both torn between raw lust and sore genitals. It was a wonderful feeling to take their time, copulating slowly and tenderly. They moaned in unison as their genitals again moved in unison, and almost against their will, their pace increased, soreness forgotten as lust fired them both up again.

They were slaves to their passion as they quickened their pace ever more, the wonderful friction firing up every synapse in their brains, deliciously tickling every nerve ending as they hastened towards more extacy.

Release came abruptly and with a slow severity that overwhelmed them both. They screamed in unison before sinking slowly to the bathroom floor in a heap of young, exhausted, satisfied flesh, still gently caressed by the cascading warm water.

For several minutes they sat on the floor of the shower cabinet, kissing and caressing luxuriously, slowly, the urgency of their pent up youthful lust for each other spent for now.

Peter moved first. He reached up and switched off the water. "Bed. Sleep," he muttered happily. He got out of the shower cabinet on wobbly legs and found towels and robes for them in a bathroom that was decidedly misty after the onslaught of warm water and body heat.

He helped Tina on her feet and wrapped her in a towel with many tender kisses as rewards. He helped towel off and helped her into her robe before she reciprocated with eager hands. He watched her set her wet hair in a towel turban, and then they headed to her room.

The penthouse felt comparatively chilly compared to the bathroom, and with chattering teeth and giggles they crawled under the blanket and spooned.

They were dozing when a thought struck Peter.
- Tina?
- Mmm?
- I hope- was it- was sex as good as you thought it would be?
- No.

A torturous pause before she twisted her head back and smiled before replying.

- It was way better, Peter.

Peter kissed her and fell asleep holding her naked body against his, the happiest young man in the world.

 

[Wolfman]

Part 12.

After a couple of hours of sleep they both woke up, famished. Amidst drowsy giggling and a lot of kisses and caresses they headed down to the kitchen and raided a suspiciously well stocked fridge. When Peter asked Tina about that, Tina smirked and told him that her parents had taken it upon themselves to stock up on food so Tina and Peter woudn't have to worry about groceries.

It wasn't wholly unexpected, but Peter thought it a sweet gesture on their part, a signal without saying as much that they were OK with them spending the weekend together. Not that he was very surprised, he knew Thora wholeheartedly approved. And from the way Marcus addressed him, he felt sure he was OK in his book as well.

They wolfed down the food and just sat staring at one another afterwards, goofy grins plastered across their faces. "Do you always get this hungry after having sex?" She looked at him curiously, before interrupting herself. "Heh. I finally had sex with my boyfriend. Yay!" There was no hint of regret or sadness in her voice, and he just smiled dreamily and said, "Definitely worth the wait. And yes, you get very hungry after sex. But given the amount of energy you burn, who can blame you?"

They then sat and had goofy speculations about how much sex was needed to justify eating a litre of ice cream and other foodstuffs, laughing out loud as the amounts of food and sex mounted to ludicrous amounts.

They repaired to the couch and just dozed in each other's arms, and little by little fell asleep. Her warm, soft, and firm body was everything he'd ever dreamed of and now here he was, dream fulfilled.

He fell into dreamless sleep. He awoke with a start a few hours later, alone on the couch. A pang of miserable solitude disappeared as he heard her voice, sunny and happy: "Good morning sleepyface! Breakfast is ready!" He looked around, and there she was, smiling, putting plates of eggs, bacon, and buttered toast on the table.

Peter had noticed that women got more energetic after sex, whereas he often felt drowsy until he'd gotten proper rest. He got up and adjusted his robe and feeling his stomach growl again. Tina snickered and told him, "Come. Eat. You need your strength today". She gave him a lewd smile, leaving him with no doubt what she had in mind. Not that he minded.

He walked over to her and kissed her deeply, his hands slowly caressing her body and ending up on her breasts, gently stroking and squeezing them, eliciting a little whimper of lust from her. Resting his forehead on hers, he said: "I don't think I'll ever get enough of you, Tina. I love you."

She kissed him back fervently, her hands doing some roaming on her own, landing on his dick, eliciting a favourable response, causing a throaty chuckle from her. "Eat first," she said.

 

[Wolfman]

Breakfast was a slow and rewarding affair. Their initial stores of hormones were still spent, though the looks exchanged between them left none of them in any doubt that more sexcapades were forthcoming.

Finally sated, they just sat by the kitchen table, full, contented and happy, talking about everything and nothing. Tina's face did start to have an enigmatic cast to it, and eventually it was too much for Peter to ignore.

"Looks like there's something on your mind, Tina. Wanna share?"

She looked at him with an exasperated smile. "I wanted it to be a surprise, Peter. But after New Year I'm starting in the same school as you. See, what you told me about it piqued my interest. I want my grades to reflect my knowledge in subjects and not my ability to brown nose a teacher."

A warmth was spreading across Peter's chest as a big happy grin spread across his face. "As long as you're doing it for that reason it makes me very happy to hear you say that. An added bonus is your boyfriend attending the same school."

She laughed, seemingly relieved. "So you're not upset the primary reason wasn't to be in the same school as my boyfriend? I think I love you a little bit more now!" She got up, walked around the table, and plopped down in his lap, holding on to his neck with both hands. "Thank you for not being a possessive jerk." And she kissed him slowly and deeply.

Kissing turned into fondling and giggling, and it wasn't long before Peter found himself caressing handfuls of supple young boobs, his lips caressing her lips, face, and neck, and his dick pushing up against the cute butt sitting in his lap. They broke apart, flustered, breathing heavily.

"Peter, there's something I want to... do you trust me?" A tone of almost apprehension. "Of course I trust you," he replied. "What's up? What do you want to do?" She blushed, smiled, but looked him straight in the eyes. "I want to make you come with my mouth. May I?" Peter smiled, chuckled, grasped her head and pulled her toward him, and kissed her. "Yes please," he whispered.

She kneeled in front of him and gently wrangled his already erect dick out of annoying folds of cloth. A pair of big blue eyes regarded his member, and a soft warm hand gently grasped it, sending shivers of pleasure rippling through his body. He could feel her breath on his member, and suddenly a warm tongue started exploring him.

Up and down the shaft it went, and around his glans. And suddenly her tongue was everywhere, tickling his sack, licking the insides of his thigh, all while her hand stroked him maddeningly slow. Loud groans of pleasure emanated from him as she explored and teased him. And then her mouth engulfed him fully, and she looked him deeply in the eyes as she took a portion of his dick inside her mouth.

She seemed to have some knowledge about this, because little to no feedback from him was needed as her head started bobbing and her tongue went to work on his shaft at the same time. Her technique was almost flawless, and Peter lost himself quickly to her ministrations. It did not take long for him to come, shooting a load in her mouth, roaring his pleasure.

When he managed to breathe properly again, he looked at her and asked, "Where did you learn to do THAT!?" She shrugged and smiled coyly. "Books. Magasines. Films. Y'know." Peter smiled. "You've been holding out on me, you delicious minx," he said in a cheeky voice. The smile from her egged him on. "I- I also want to try something on you," he told her.

An expectant smile from Tina. "I trust you, Peter. Tell me what to do." He asked her to simply lie down, legs spread. She obeyed him, flushed face and expectant smile. He kneeled down next to her, savouring for a moment the way the light played with the strawberry blonde tuft of hair between her legs. "Have you ever heard of the G-spot?"

She shook her head. "Allow me," he said as he gently started fingering and rubbing her lips and clit. She was still wet from giving him his blowjob and the earlier sex they'd had, and within a minute his middle finger slid effortlessly inside her vagina. As he slowly fingerfucked her, her breathing changed, growing deeper, and she started slowly gyrating against him. His ring finger soon followed, eliciting a surprised and pleased gasp from Tina.

His fingers were as far in as they could go. Peter slowly twisted his hand so the palm was facing upwards, acutely aware of her reactions to his ministrations. The sighs and moans from her he took as good signs that he was doing nothing wrong. And then he curled his fingers. A loud gasp from Tina made him look at her. Her face and chest were flushed and her face was contorted into a mask of sheer delight, eyes closed and her mouth sensually open.

He straightened his fingers, then curled them again. Tina responded very favourably to this, and Peter started with a slow steady rhythm to massage the little tangled knot known as the G-spot. Tina quickly succumbed and started moaning deeply, almost savagely as her hips started thrusting against his hand. After a few minutes Tina came hard, but she continued grinding against his hand. And so, he leaned down and started gently licking her clitoris.

The response was electric. Tine threw all inhibitions to the wind and all but yelled out her pleasure for all to hear. Peter suddenly found himself having a hard time keeping up with the gyrations of her hips. During his ministrations, watching and hearing her enjoyment, he had again grown rigid hard, almost painfully so, and without any warning he pulled his fingers out and plunged inside the writhing volcano of lust that was his girlfriend.

"Oh yes!" he heard her exclaim as he started fucking her in deep hard strokes. He fucked her with a wild a savage energy he'd never experienced before, acutely aware of the hotness of their lovemaking and how it built up until he was in a deep red frenzy of warm sweaty bliss, his moans echoing hers as they expressed their love with intimate abandon.

And then, finally, they screamed out in unison and collapsed together on the floor. No words could fully express what they'd just experienced, so they just held each other like their lives depended on it and felt their hearts beat in unison.

 

[Wolfman]

"Is it always like this? Is it always this intense?"

Half an hour had gone by, and they were sliwly coming to their senses. Peter looked at Tina. She had a pensieve look on her face as she slowly got up off of the dark, polished wooden floor. Peter sat up, wincing as the bare skin peeled itself off the floor, stale sweat all but gluing him down.

"I can honestly say that this is the most intense sex I've ever had, Tina." She smiled at that, and her face flushed happily. "Really? You really mean that, Peter?" Peter looked at her. This was important to her. "Really," he said with a genuine smile that seemed to put her at ease. "I think it's because we waited. We got to know each other well before we progressed to sex. I can't promise it'll be like this EVERY time we have sex, but I don't think it'll be possible for us to have bad sex. Only intense or less intense."

She nodded. "I can live with that," she said with a small giggle that endeared her to him even further. She leaned into him and they just sat there, savouring the moment and each other. The intensity of his feelings for her was a little bit intimidating but mostly wonderful. And just like that he knew that if it were up to him, he'd be hers for the rest of their lives.

All these thoughts and emotions manifested themselves as a simple but heartfelt "I love you" whispered in her ear, but the sentiment was reciprocated in the kiss she bestowed on him in return.

Peter knew total bliss.