Carrie, Female, 15

	- Narrator, high school freshman

	- Beige, freckled skin, 5'4, 130lbs, curly back-length dark-red hair

Henri ('on-REE') LaBlount, Male, 23

	- Substitute Spanish teacher

	- Medium-brown skin, 5'4, 145lbs, short, straight black hair

I fucked Henri four more times that school year. Well, on four more occasions, anyway, one of them was several different times in one night. The last three were quickies, his fear of getting caught forcing us to meet quietly for a few minutes in the woods where I'd suck him before he licked me a bit, then slid his penis inside of me from behind.

Yes, I got to suck his dick. I'll tell you about the second time we had sex, the best of all the times I enjoyed with Henri, and for moments, the worst as well.

On our scheduled Friday rendezvous, I told my Mom I was sleeping over at a friend's house and walked two blocks down the street to where the neighborhood ended and the woods began. Henri met me there and we rode to his place.

He wore a dark suit and tie, had just come from a different school he'd worked at that week. He looked so hot, his brown skin so delicious to look at. The moment I got in the car I could feel myself becoming wet. The anticipation for taking Henri inside me again set me abuzz.

We talked about how the week had gone, whether things had gotten any better with the 'Loose Girl' crisis (it hadn't), if I still wanted to see him (I did), and if I could really stay the night with him (I could).

At his house, he made himself a drink, then looked at me, unsure what to do. I spoke up, “I'd love one, thanks.” I'd drank before, mostly beer, but one time, Fawn had gotten ahold of a bottle of peach schnapps and I then drank so much I nearly vomited.

Henri made me the same drink he had. I asked, “what is it?”

“Whisky sour.”

“Oh.” I sipped it, found it as sweet as it was tart, and the whisky felt smooth going down, building a slow-burning fire in my stomach that matched the one burning in my crotch.

Henri sat next to me on the couch, a bit stiff for a few minutes. I imagine he was weighing all the things that could go wrong with me there, with him fucking me. Whatever it was, he soon had his hand on my thigh, and I sat my drink aside when he knelt down between my legs.

My blue skirt ran over my knees, so he had to lift it and push it to my waist to see my white cotton panties. Henri pushed his head down, and I heard him inhale, his nose touching the fabric. He said, “mmmm... oh... yes...”

He inhaled again, then pulled my panties to the side and licked my cunt. Fire raced up my labia and to my clit, my womanhood standing up quickly, became the center of my throbbing pleasure as his fingers ran over my nub. Henri's tongue swept into my puss, licked me deep inside.

I lost myself in his touch, his tongue. When his other hand slid under my shirt, pushed up my bra, and caressed my breast, I let go. Trembling boiling fire crashed from my clit and into my puss, then down my legs. Waves flowed through, I floated on the top, pleasure flooding my senses.

Henri lapped and licked and ate everything that drooled from body. My vagina swelled with his lips kissing them, my slickness growing as my orgasm washed through.

He stood then, knelt, and started to put a condom on his penis. I stopped him, “wait. I want to put you in my mouth.”

He smiled, stood, and took my hands, pulling me to my feet for another kiss. I tasted myself on his lips, on his tongue, and I loved it. I moaned as my hand found his penis. It felt so warm, the flesh firm but giving. Precum ran from his slit, and my hand rubbed it into his length. Henri groaned as I stroked him. I wasn't sure what I was doing, didn't know for sure it was the 'right way,' but Henri never complained, and his moans were pleasant and sincere.

Henri moved around and sat on the couch, his hard long cock standing proud. I knelt down, considered whether I should tell him that I'd never had a penis in my mouth before, decided to do my best to fake it.

There was something instinctive in taking a cock in my mouth. I stared at Henri's throbbing dick, held tightly in my hand, felt my mouth and tongue forming a channel I thought would feel right.

I slid the head of his penis inside, and for the first time, I got the rush of tasting a cock in my mouth. I love the way cock tastes. Later, I'd know how different men had such different flavors, but that night, Henri's dick was everyman's dick. He tasted warm and a bit salty, the precum was light and a bit oily. His flesh made me tingle as I held a couple of inches in my mouth.

Henri helped me learn what to do next. His hips pushed up slightly and I held still, then he withdrew, down to the tip. Back in, and my head moved on its own, down, taking him deeper in my mouth. His hips matched my head as I got used to feeling his hot penis on my tongue.

He groaned as he arched up, cried out, “said... oh... Carrie... can't hold much longer... gonna cum, Sweetie...”

I'd seen porn videos of all types even at fifteen, and I knew the general 'spit, duck, or swallow' choice. I wanted to swallow. Henri's penis expanded between my lips, and when the first shot of semen hit my throat, I held still.

He groaned loud, long, deep pleasure rushing into his body as he began to fill my mouth. He thrust in jerks, and I struggled to keep him inside, struggled not to choke on the thick fluids collecting in my throat. I felt each spray of cum, felt it pooling on the back of my tongue, wondered if I was going to die choking on Henri's cock.

His hands held my head still while the last of his load flowed into my mouth. I was having a hard time breathing and slowly backed off, letting his penis fall from my lips. I managed to catch the load before I drooled it, and held it a moment.

It was a little gross, in both flavor and texture. The thick semen was still warm, and the longer I held it, the harder it was to try to swallow it. My tongue pushed up and I forced down the cum. Some caught in my mouth and I almost lost it. I swallowed again, Henri pushed my drink into my hand, and the whisky sour washed his sperm into my stomach.

I relaxed, felt a small amount of pride at having sucked Henri to an orgasm with my mouth, then managing to swallow it. I fell onto the couch and he kissed me hard. His penis was wet, sperm still slowly pulsing from the tip and running down his shaft.

My jaws felt sore then. I realized some of my trouble swallowing was the stiffness in the muscles there. I worked my jaw a few times, Henri said, “little too much, maybe? It will pass... ever... ever done that before?”

“Never.”

“I'm your first. I feel so special. Didn't think you were going to swallow it. Your first time, and you swallowed it. Nice.”

I smiled, cum still on my chin, “I like that... wanted to do that to you last week, been thinking about it a lot. Wondered what you'd taste like when you shot. Now I know.”

“And how do I taste?”

One of those white lies I told so easily. “Good. Liked it.”

We kissed again, then Henri suggested dinner. He made us omelets and creamed spinach. All evening he ran his hands freely over me, and I let him. I loved the attention, loved Henri, and did the same with him. It was caring, lovely. I knew he loved me, and I tried hard to think of some way to move in with him.

Ahh... daydreams of a fifteen-year old girl. Now, of course, I see how silly it was to believe the fairy tale that was Henri, but then, oh, then I was just in love with the man. I don't know how else to describe it. He cared about me, needed me at a time in my life that I had to have those things. Who could blame me for believing it would last forever?

Anyway, after dinner, Henri and I showered together. In some ways, it was more awkward than having sex with him. I watched him rub soap on his cloth and wash his cock and balls. When it came time to clean myself, I worried about whether I should use his cloth to wipe my butt, whether to let him see me doing that. It felt like one of those moments that was supposed to be done in private, but Henri's eyes never left my backside as I stood under the water and ran the cloth quickly through my crack.

Clean and dried, he led us to his bedroom. It was tidy, a large, low-frame king-sized bed with a thick, brown comforter. Henri's touch was always gentle, even when we later were forced into quickies in the woods. He always took the care to touch me like I was delicate, and I admit that touches like Henri's still make me feel very attracted to whoever is with me. He led my body onto the bed, head on the pillows, and he kissed my lips, my neck, had me trembling in anticipation as his hands explored my breasts.

I've always had very round breasts. From the first moments my chest began to swell around my twelfth birthday, they were round, never conical or particularly puffy. I had dark-red areolae even then that drew tightly to half their size when I was turned on or cold. My nipples were small but would grow later, then just little red nubs that barely pushed out my t-shirts.

Henri sucked my nipples and I felt wonderful. He stroked my thigh, let his palm rest over my sex, his tongue tasting my breasts. I sighed and ran my hands through his hair, willed his body into mine.

He wasn't in a hurry, slid his body down, parted my thighs, and licked my puss slowly. He tickled the dark-red pubes which covered my vulva, used a hand to part my labia, and licked inside my vagina, moaning into my opening.

I don't know how long Henri ate me but I came twice, two soft, slow orgasms that rolled through before crashing over me. It was his slow pace, his careful use of his fingers, the gentle rhythm that sent me over the edge each time. I thought about nothing, lost in the touches, the kisses, his wonderful tongue in my cunt.

When I came down from my last climax, he rose over me, penis in hand, condom already in place. I instinctively spread my legs wider, rolled my hips up, my feet in the air. I panted heavily as Henri penetrated me again, and my mind went blank as he sank deep into my body.

I love being receptive. Something about opening myself like that, opening myself and letting a man put a part of his body inside mine. I loved the feeling of it, the wonderful fullness that every penis can give. Henri's penis was perfect inside me, his thrusts firm but well-paced. My world open to his body, I laid back and let the man fuck me like he loved me.

He humped me like that for several minutes, sometimes pausing to lean in for a kiss, once pulling back to lick me again. Then he pulled me up and turned me over, placed me on all fours. I knew what doggy-style was even if I'd never done it before.

I smelled myself then, really the first time I'd noticed the scent of my wet puss with someone else there. It turned me on to know that Henri probably smelled me too. Later in life, I'd worry if that was a good thing or a turn off for my partner, but that night, all I knew is that he never hesitated to put himself back in my vagina, his body humping against mine once more.

Doggy-style is so different than on my back. I had a bit more sense of control, could 'fuck him' in the normal sense of the phrase. As he humped me, I pushed back, drove him into my body, his penis stretching me with each stroke. With my hand I found my clit as we fucked like that, and it didn't take long for me to orgasm.

I felt almost delirious with Henri fucking me from behind, my orgasm crashing in waves through my body. He was grunting, I felt his penis swelling inside me. My labia felt swollen around his cock, his hard, pounding cock. His hands on my waist grasped me tighter, pulling me into him as he humped me. My ass smacked against his body with each movement, the slap-slap-slap of our flesh becoming a drumbeat that drove us both faster.

Henri cried out, raised up a bit as he drove his cock in and out of my hole. I remember saying, “shoot it, Henri... shoot it...” He groaned and humped me fast, bellowing his pleasure as his penis swelled and emptied inside the condom.

I wished instantly that he was cumming in my vagina. Each time he spasmed, squirting into the latex, it was so hot, but I wanted to feel him cumming, to feel his hot seed splash inside my body. The condom prevented that, and the only thing that would have made that moment better would have been his semen filling my young, tight hole. Or so I thought at the time.

Henri held still, cock throbbing inside my puss, breathing hard. His hands worked on their own, stroking and grasping my butt cheeks. He pulled out of me slowly, and I watched him flop beside me on the bed. I curled into him, saw the condom still on his dick, couldn't help reaching out to touch him.

His cock jumped when my fingers found it but he didn't object. An inch of the condom hung over to one side, full of his sperm. I squeezed it, wished again he'd cum inside me, then removed it and put it in the trash.

I took Henri's cock in my mouth. The strong taste of the rubber made me gag lightly, but I tried not to show my reservation. His sperm was just a thin sheen on his flesh, and the taste was not nearly as gross as earlier that day. I hummed, smiling, as I sucked him back to hardness and started to give him another blow job.

I would wonder later if Henri had solid stamina and quick recovery, or if fucking a fifteen-year old girl made his dick stay hard all night. Probably was both. I sucked him for a long time, his hands resting by his sides, his eyes sometimes closed, sometimes watching my head move up and down his penis.

He didn't cum in my mouth that time, instead, he pulled me off his dick and pulled me onto his lap. I stepped over his body, guided by his hands, and dropped down on my knees, his penis hard between us, throbbing against my stomach.

I reached back and stroked him, brought the tip of his cock to my labia, and started to slide down.

I forgot to put a condom on him. I froze, almost panicked, should have stopped and gotten one. The look on Henri's face said he knew what I was feeling, conflicted, wanting to feel each other completely unprotected. I wasn't on the pill, he probably knew that. I certainly did. When my body pushed down and took his hard, uncovered penis inside me, I knew the risks.

The feeling was amazing. So different than with a condom. I felt every ridge in his warm flesh, every pulse of his heart sent heat into my vagina. It felt more intense with Henri inside me that way. I started to move up and down, unsure how to ride a man though I'd seen it often enough in the pornos I'd stolen from a friend's dad's stash.

Henri's hips rose to meet mine, and it took little guidance to find a rhythm we both enjoyed. I humped Henri, his cock swelling quickly to full size, stretching my little hole.

I felt strong, brave, full of confidence as I used my body to fuck Henri. I held his shoulders, brought my ass down harder and harder with each stroke. I tried to will him to cum in me. I wanted it, strongly wanted it. I don't know why, I just felt that drive, that need, to feel Henri ejaculate in my vagina.

I rode him for a while before he turned me around and I fucked him in what I now know is called 'reverse cowgirl.' I leaned forward, over his legs, using my arms for balance, pressing down on his knees for leverage. I rose and fell, breathing heavily, mindless pleasure building minute-by-minute, stroke-by-stroke.

My vagina grew very wet, sticky. I looked down between my legs to see the frothy mess clinging to his shaft and to his balls. It made me hot to see that, to see his balls swell and retreat with each movement of my body. I knew another load of cum was working its way up and I shuddered and came thinking about it.

My body's spasms sent Henri into his own. My vagina tightened, clamped down, almost pushed his penis out as I came, my cries echoing in the room. He grunted, cried out, held my waist and pounded up into me. At first, I didn't know he was cumming. My puss was so hot from the friction that I missed his first squirt. It was also his third ejaculation that day, so it may have been just the volume that caused me to not feel it.

I knew it happened because his cock swelled and pulsed just as he had when he came in the condom. His second squirt splashed just right and a warm, wonderful sensation sent me shuddering. I felt his cock squishing in my channel, his sperm sliding out and down from my vagina. He cried out long, breathing hard, holding me down hard on his body, his penis held in my tight little puss.

We sat like that catching our breath for a long time. I didn't want to move. Henri had cum in my pussy, cum in my tight, fifteen-year old puss. I felt so whole in that moment, felt raw, felt powerful. I felt euphoric, and I even giggled a bit I felt so good.

When I finally climbed off Henri, a small amount of cum ran from my hole and over his cock. I knew it was a small load compared to the last two, but to me, it was the perfect size. It was the first load ejaculated in my vagina. I looked at Henri grinning.

He looked horrified.

He was still trying to catch his breath, pale despite his brown skin. I asked, concerned, “you okay, Henri?”

“I came in you... I came in you... oh god...”

I sat beside him, my wet, leaking genitals against the sheet. “I wanted you to. I'm glad you did. What's wrong?”

“I came in you... oh god... I came in you...”

I was silent, didn't know what to say, felt bad suddenly that he reacted that way and it was my fault. I'm the one that rode him without a condom, I'm the one that kept him inside me when I felt him ejaculating, so I told myself then. I just sat with my vagina leaking the last of his cum while he stewed.

Henri finally roused and made himself another drink. I found a towel and wrapped it around me, covering my breasts and my genitals, suddenly ashamed that his reaction had been so different than my own. I loved feeling him cumming in me, it had made me feel so good about myself to take his cum in my vagina.

I didn't really think about the consequences then, not until he sat beside me on the couch, quaking, mumbling. “God, oh god... what if you get pregnant... when was your last period?”

“Uh... two weeks ago... I think”

“Oh, Jesus! Oh, Jesus... ok... Ok. Henri... Calm down... ok...”

I was quiet while he agitated, swallowed his drink, made another. He sat again, said, “I'm clean... it's ok, that way, at least... I'm clean...”

I didn't understand until much later that he meant STDs, as we called them in the mid-80s. I took 'clean' to mean that he'd showered, and I didn't know why he bothered to mention it.

He finally found something that would address his problem, or so it seemed to me. “Wash. Go wash out your pussy. Get all my sperm out of you. Do it! Please!”

I almost ran to the bathroom, suddenly frightened of Henri. Not that I feared physical violence, but his tone, his concerns, they made me feel very anxious, afraid of the unknown consequences of my actions.

I rinsed myself in the shower, washed away all the cum in my pubic hairs. I used two fingers to wash my vagina, carefully reaching as deep as I could to remove whatever was within. I trembled, my legs shaking as I finished and stood naked, shivering in the stall.

I stood there a while, not sure what to do. I didn't want to see Henri right then, his mood one of fear and doubt. At some point, there was a knock on the door, Henri came in. I was standing in the shower, mostly dry, still shaking a bit.

He seemed to melt then, softened, saw me as the frightened creature I felt I was in that hour. I'd crashed from my peak of confident, certain woman to fragile girl, all from Henri's reactions to me, to my body, to what we'd done together.

Henri wrapped his arms around me, shushed me as I started to cry. He whispered, “shhh... It's ok, really. It's ok. Nothing to worry about, it will be fine, I promise.”

I actually believed him. Needed to. I hugged him and let myself cry a bit before I felt better. He led me to bed and we settled in. My brain shut down quickly, thankfully, and I was soon asleep, Henri's arms hugging me to him.

- - -

I woke in the night to a soft whisper, “Carrie... you awake? You feeling ok?”

It was an odd question, my mind not yet rebooted from sleep. “Uh... sure.”

“Good... me too. I'm sorry I scared you earlier, just lost it a bit. Ok now, really. Just wanted you to know that, Carrie. Just wanted you to know...”

I turned over and we kissed, his body and mine pressed together. His hands wandered from my back to my thigh where he stroked my hip, let his fingers trail down to my sex. He whispered, “I need you, Carrie...”

My instincts took over and I rolled to my back, pushed the covers away, and spread my legs.

Henri eased over me, felt my vulva with his fingers. He licked me a moment, then brought his cock to my labia.

He wore no condom.

I almost spoke up, froze, felt him enter me again, quickly thrusting himself in and out of my body. I laid back, let Henri fuck me, his penis stretching my little hole. I was sore from the earlier sex, felt a dull ache in my vagina. It wasn't enough to protest, and I loved feeling Henri inside me, bareback, his cock swelling in my hole.

I couldn't orgasm. I knew it. I'd rubbed myself raw enough times to know that dull, dry sensation even with my wetness spreading around his cock. But I enjoyed Henri fucking me, loved it, remembered that I loved him. I wrapped my legs around him, my arms around his shoulders, pulled him into me and kissed him as he fucked my vagina.

He started to grunt, humped me in jerky motions. He rose up on his arms, his face intense, eyes closed, his hips moving firmly back and forth between my legs. He cried out, and I was sure he was about to cum in me again.

At the last moment, he seemed to choose a different option just in time. His hand flew down just as he pulled out of me with a pop. Henri stroked his penis twice and bellowed as he ejaculated a couple of small, thin shots of jism onto my stomach. His cum pooled in my navel, some running down my side as he collapsed on me and tried to catch his breath.

I half thought he'd fallen asleep until I felt his hand move, his penis jumped, and his hard flesh was inside me once more.

Like I said, I don't know if it was his quick recovery or my fifteen-year old pussy that did it, but he fucked me another half an hour in several positions. I couldn't say no, didn't want to, even as my puss screamed in rising discomfort that bordered on pain toward the end. I wanted Henri inside me, always. I never wanted him to pull out, but like the last time, just before he came, fucking me doggy style, he slipped his penis out of my hole and spurted on my body, his cum splashing onto my anus and running down my slit.

This time, he was sated, spent, completely unable to enjoy the treasure laying beside him. That's how I felt, anyway, like a treasure, a prize he'd discovered and needed to savor in every way. I'd recovered my strength, my confidence, past the fright of hours before. Those times that night, with Henri fucking me, made me trust him again, and I fell in love all over with the man as he held me tight and we fell asleep.