Chapter 1
When I first met Paula, we were both in university. She was pursuing an arts' major and I was trying to decide if I was majoring in business or in creative writing. However our meeting was completely unplanned and a total surprise to both of us.
It was one of those rare days in the spring when the whole world seems to be celebrating its joy of life and that particular morning had been one when I had felt like everything was going my way. As well as the beautiful weather, this was a Friday and all I had were two classes, then I had one of those very rare 'free' weekends when I had no papers due during the next week. I had only an early morning class in creative writing and then a basic art class immediately after it. The combination left my afternoon free and although I didn't have a girlfriend, I was actually thinking I would enjoy partying for a change. Now for me, that's a major thing. You see, I've always been shy and I think in the three years I'd been at the university, I might have been to four or perhaps five parties.
Actually, I was feeling so enthusiastic about the way the day had gone so far that I was hoping to get up enough nerve to ask one of the students in the art class to go with me to one of the weekend parties. I had taken the art class because it was one of the few classes that fit into my schedule without conflict and although I could draw, art wasn't a passion with me. I was certain I would never pursue it as anything more than a hobby, besides, it had seemed an easy enough class for me to get a decent grade and it gave me three extra credits toward an eventual degree. Aww, I might as well admit it, I'd heard that mostly girls took the class and since I was shy, it was an attempt on my part to meet someone or at least be around the 'gentle' sex more than I normally would have been.
On the morning in question, I had paused after the creative writing class to speak to the professor for a moment, so I had to hurry to the art class. As a matter of fact the instructor there was beginning the class as I hurried in. In my rush to get to my place in class, I didn't see another student's knapsack on the edge of the aisle. I tripped, and I tripped spectacularly! I doubt if any stunt man could have done as well.
Perhaps you can imagine it if I describe the scene. A tall, homely, string-bean student with an armload of books comes racing into a class of mostly young women, all of whom are standing in a semi circle of easels, waiting for their days assignment. All of them turn when the string-bean lets out a loud squawk as he trips and literally flies through the air, his body suddenly horizontal. He flops to the floor on his belly, and skids toward the crowd of beautiful young women.
For me, as soon as I tripped, the whole world seemed to go into slow motion. If I had just let things be, I don't know what would have happened, but I could see I was going to knock a gorgeous woman over, something like a bowling ball hitting the head pin. I dropped everything in my hands and slapped my palms to the floor. Unfortunately the tile floor had just been freshly cleaned and waxed. The slight braking effect of my hands had almost no effect toward slowing me down, all I had succeeded in doing was to raise my head and shoulders upward. I still slid forward at an undiminished rate. I could see the young woman's eyes snap wide open as she realised I was on a collision course with her. She seemed to actually bend her knees and lean forward, her hands outstretched, her arms reaching as if to catch me and help me stop.
We collided, my arms sliding outside of her feet, my head near her midriff height, my shoulders striking her legs above the knees as she folded from the impact. I could feel her hands brush my hair as she went over backwards. I had slowed, but I was still sliding fast enough that she folded, the top of my head drove forward and, as she bent, it slammed into the pit of her stomach. Meanwhile she was carried back and down, her body wrapping around mine as she continued to fold while she fell. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we seemed to stop moving.
I'd had the breath knocked out of me and so had she, so we just lay there for a moment. My head had somehow struck her legs low enough to slip under her short skirt. As she had been carried backward, her skirt had been forced upward. The top of my head was lying in the pit of her stomach and my face was in her crotch. As I gasped for the breath that had been knocked from my body by the fall, I was breathing in the soft musky odour of her sex. In fact my nose and mouth were pressed against her silk panties. Her body had folded over mine so I was pinned, but I realised in an instant where I was and what position I was in. I was panic-stricken.
I struggled to press away, but somehow her legs were lifted at the knees, so they were jammed under my armpits and it felt like her breasts were pressed to my ears. Since her upper body was holding me down, I was stuck. I could only writhe ineffectually for a few seconds, my nose grinding into her sex. Then her legs straightened and she began to unfold her upper torso from above me, gasping for the breath I had knocked from her body. I was able to push myself back and away from her, letting her move more easily as well. We managed to separate from each other and I flopped over on my back to lay gasping on the floor for a moment. Suddenly the instructor and several of our classmates were surrounding us.
I was far more worried about the young lady than I was for myself. When I finally managed to sit up, she was still lying crumpled on the floor and seemed to be shaking like she was having an attack of some kind. Several people were around both of us and I was desperately trying to apologise to both her and the instructor while still gasping for breath. Finally I managed to haul myself upright enough to see the young ladies face and realised she was grinning at me. The shaking of her body was caused by her laughter.
For a second, I simply stared at her but she reached out a hand to grab mine.
"S'okay!" She gasped between bouts of silent laughter.
"Sorry . . ." I mumbled, still short of breath myself.
"S'alright . . . m'okay . . ." She managed to grunt, then broke into gasping, but delightful laughter while still holding my hand tightly in hers.
Somehow I felt two conflicting emotions at the same time, chagrin that I had hurt her, and delight that someone so pretty was holding my hand. Now that I was sitting up, I could see her face clearly and it sank into my thick skull that she was stunningly beautiful. About the same time, I began to register the voices of the others around us.
"Are you okay?" The instructor was saying as he leaned down to be close.
"Uh huh . . . 'm fine." She giggled. "Jus' . . . winded."
He put his hand on my shoulder then. "How are you? Are you okay?"
"Unh huh." I grunted, trying to sit up.
It took a few minutes for us to get our breaths back and finally begin to move to stand.
"Both of you should go down to health care and get checked out." The instructor practically ordered.
"I guess so." The young lady said quietly, then looked at my arm. "You need to have that . . . looked at for sure."
"Oh hell." I said as I realised I was bleeding slightly from a scrape on one elbow.
As it really began to sting, I was able to sit up further and check on the damage I had done to myself. I had scrapped the skin on one knee too, but neither wound was exactly bad, more of a painful abrasion than a deep injury. As well as the damage to my skin, I'd torn my shirt badly, ripping it down one side and removing half of my buttons.
"Are you okay?" I asked, more concerned that I had injured her. I was surprised when she giggled, then winced slightly.
"I'm fine, if I don't laugh." She grinned. "Some guy butted me in the belly and it hurts to laugh."
"Oh shit, I . . . I am so, so sorry." I stammered, my face going bright red as I realised she knew I'd had my nose crammed in her . . . well, in her . . . pussy just moments before.
I'm sure she would have had something to say at that point, but the instructor decided his class had enough disruption and succeeded in convincing us that we should both hurry off to health care. He ordered two students to pick up our scattered belongings, telling us that he would keep them in his office for us to pick up later and then after helping us to our feet, escorted us to the door of the classroom, closing it behind us.
I was left staring at an absolutely lovely girl who was still smiling even as she held one hand to her stomach. She lifted her other hand toward me.
"Since you've kissed my pussy, I think it's only fair to know your first name." She giggled, grabbing my right hand in hers. "Mine's Paula."
"Oh God!" I gasped, blushing bright red. "I am sorry!"
"Your name?" She giggled even louder, now holding my hand so tight it almost hurt. "I've gotta know your name."
"Oh sorry, it's Clyde, Clyde Johnson." I managed to gasp, then I realised I had used the name my mother had saddled me with and I had been trying to get everyone to stop using. "But I'd rather you called me 'CJ'." I blurted. "I hate being called Clyde!"
"Clyde?" She giggled even louder. "Your name is CLYDE?"
"Yes." I sighed. "I've been called 'Clyde, the clod' since about second grade."
"Omigod. CLYDE!" She giggled, then started to laugh. "Omigod, I'm sorry!" And she broke into giggling laughter, holding her belly with one hand and my hand with the other.
"I'm sorry . . . I'm sorry . . . I'm sorry . . . " She managed to blurt through her laughter.
Suddenly her arm left her stomach and lifted to my shoulder. She moved forward and then she was literally draped against me, her body shaking with laughter as she held me tightly. I didn't know what to do! I did wrap one arm around her, but that was reflex, a movement to steady her, nothing more. I had no experience holding a girl, absolutely none. I was totally nonplussed.
Okay, I'm going to have to admit it, at that moment, she was the first female other than my mother and a maiden aunt that I had ever held in any way. I had always been shy, I had always been thin and gawky, and I had been saddled with the worst name in the world, at least as far as I was concerned. I had long since convinced myself that no woman in her right mind would ever consent to have anything to do with me. All the way through school, while other boys developed friends, particularly girlfriends, my only friends had been books. I was the most virgin of all virgins.
I found myself standing rigidly, not daring to move. I felt my body reacting to her soft warm flesh, her delightful odour, her . . . well everything about her. I felt myself beginning to become aroused and then she made things worse. She released her hold on my hand and her arm slowly encircled my waist.
"MY GOD" I gasped softly, she was pressing herself against me.
My arm was trapped between us and I could feel her soft breast against my upper arm, her taut belly against my lower arm. I shifted my hand slightly, trying to hold it between her belly and my rapidly growing erection. I slipped my other hand up her back to her shoulder, wanting to move her back and away, but wanting to crush her body against me even more.
I found myself staring at the top of her head, looking at the finest, most beautiful auburn hair I had ever seen. I was holding my breath. I never wanted her to move away from me, then she leaned her head back, and her face turned up, her eyes lifted to mine.
"I am sorry. I didn't mean to make you angry by laughing at your name." She whispered, and somehow I could see the depth of feeling in her eyes. "Don't you like me?"
"Oh God." I groaned, knowing I'd done it again, making a fool of myself somehow.
I stared at her, stunned that she could think I didn't like her. She pulled back and I could see tears in her eyes, somehow I had hurt her more by doing nothing than I had by smashing into her and knocking her to the floor. From somewhere deep inside, I felt a burning need, a need to hold her, a need to protect her. It grew as she pulled back, as the tears started to brim over. Somehow I found my voice.
"Oh, I like you." I gasped, my voice grating and rasping. "But I've never . . ."
I sighed, my hands dropping to my sides in sheer frustration.
"Aw Fuck." I snapped, giving up to my anger and personal self annoyance. "I think you're beautiful, absolutely gorgeous and I know I hurt you when I knocked you down. Now I've hurt you again because I don't know what to say to women. I'm just a big ugly, stupid fuck-up. I'm sorry."
And then, pulling away from her, I turned on my heel and started to stride away.
"Clyde?" She called. "Clyde?"
Now I was even more annoyed, "What the hell does she want?" I thought, grousing to myself. "I've made enough of a fool of myself. I want out of here." If anything, I began to walk faster, hurrying toward a door that would take me outside into the bright sunshine.
"Oh God, please, CJ, talk to me." Her voice whipped at me like a goad.
Suddenly I heard her heels as she began to run and I shook my head, realising she was coming my way. I moved even faster, slamming into the door and driving it open in my rush to be far away from her and my embarrassment. Ignoring anything else, I strode across campus, my long legs stretching out in the one thing I did well, I could walk fast. I needed to burn off the anger I felt, so I walked. I walked most of the way across campus until I was at an isolated grove of trees. In the center of that grove of trees was a clearing that I had discovered one day and that's where I headed, seeking a place to hide, somewhere to be alone.
That clearing was a haven for me, a place that no one seemed to know about, and a place where I sometimes went to isolate myself from others. I marched to its center. There finally, I flopped on my belly in the long grass and sighed, raking a hand across my eyes to brush away my tears, then burying my head against my arm, feeling sorry for myself. Once more I had done my usual and fucked up any chance of meeting or talking to a woman. What had felt like a beautiful morning was now feeling like shit. At least the sun felt warm on my back.
Suddenly I felt a shadow, something had moved between me and the sun. Then I could hear someone panting softly.
"You aren't . . . getting away . . . that easily." I heard her voice gasp.
Then I felt her drop down by my side. Suddenly she was resting a hand on my shoulder.
I lifted my head to stare at her in surprise. Her face was flushed and she looked determined, yet . . . happy somehow. I opened my mouth to speak and she covered it with her hand.
"Don't . . . say . . . anything!" She panted. "Lemme get . . . my breath."
So I simply stared at her. Once more, I fell under the spell of her beauty.
Her hair was the first thing I noticed, it's soft auburn colour was transformed here in the bright sunlight. Her head looked like it was wreathed in soft shimmering flames. Then her eyes caught mine and I sank into their blue-green depths, watching as they seemed to sparkle and shimmer. They were so intense that it wasn't until she closed them for second that I could look at the rest of her face, noticing her finely chiselled features and the sprinkling of freckles that covered the bridge of her nose.
Her breathing was so deep that I couldn't help looking at her heaving chest, my eyes flicking momentarily to her round breasts and realising that her nipples were jutting against the cloth of her blouse in stiff arousal. My eyes flashed back to her face, hoping that she hadn't caught me staring at her boobs, but I found her eyes twinkling as she grinned at me. I was caught and like a school kid, I blushed uncontrollably.
She broke into that giggle, and lifting her hand from my lips, she touched the tip of my nose with a finger tip.
"You . . . can look." She snorted, then snorted again even louder before she broke into laughter.
After a few seconds she controlled her laughter enough to say, "After all, you've already kissed me on my . . . my pussy." She snorted again and broke into laughter once more.
I stared at her in chagrin, then since she found it funny, I couldn't help myself. I broke into laughter as well. For a few moments I lay there blushing madly and laughing loudly in embarrassed delight that she could forgive me enough to joke about it. It felt wonderful to laugh along with her.
"Now, be quiet. I need to talk." She whispered finally as our laughter died off to chuckles.
She shifted slightly and her hand slowly traced a line from my forehead to my cheek and down to rest on my shoulder
"CJ, I'm sorry I laughed at your name, I really am." She began.
When I opened my mouth to forgive her, she set her finger to my lips again.
"I told you to shut up." She giggled. "You can talk in a minute, but I want to say something first. Okay?"
She lifted her finger and I nodded, closing my mouth tightly, deliberately showing her that I was forcing it closed which brought on another delightful giggle. Suddenly I realised I liked her giggle. Hell, I loved her giggle. I had to grin.
"Now, that's better, you big ugly stupid fuck-up." And she grinned back. "And don't get mad, that's what you called yourself." She giggled and I had to snort with laughter.
"That's better." She sighed, then she looked concerned. "Is your arm okay?"
"Mm hmm." I nodded, realising that I had forgotten I was injured. "It's just a scrape."
"Let me see."
I shifted to hold it up for her and was astounded when she leaned toward me, taking my arm in her hands and lifting it toward her face as she bent forward. Her eyes lifted from my arm and she smiled.
"I think you'll survive." Then to my surprise, her tongue flicked out and she licked the wound gently.
I simply stared at her, trusting her and yet feeling the soft sting that her saliva brought to the wound. She smiled and with her eyes staring into mine, licked gently again. Then quietly and carefully, she licked again and again, carefully and thoroughly covering the whole scrape. I lay as if paralysed, my mouth falling open in astonishment.
"I've seen dogs do this. It's what any bitch does when her mate is hurt." She grinned. "She licks his wounds and makes him comfortable."
"But you're not a . . . " I started to say.
"Oh I am a bitch." She giggled. "And while I can't call you my mate . . . yet. You have kissed my pussy, which is more than any other man has ever done."
"But I didn't kiss it." I gasped, still finding it hard to believe she could say that so easily.
"What?" She said in mock surprise. "You had your face stuffed into my pussy and you didn't even kiss it? Not even a little bit?"
I stared at her and suddenly had to laugh, because she was grinning widely as she delightedly teased me.
"Oh, you are a bitch!" I snorted through my laughter.
"Told ya so." She giggled.
"But you're a beautiful bitch." I grinned. "I almost wish I had . . ."
And I broke off what I was saying, blushing a bright red again. She stared at me for a moment, then giggled softly.
"What? Kissed my pussy?" She whispered, her face flushing as bright red as my own."That's a repairable omission."
"Huh?" I stared at her.
"Would you like to?" She sighed, so softly I could hardly hear her.
"Kiss your . . ." I let my words trail off again, I just couldn't bring myself to say it out loud.
"Yes." She sighed again. "At least I'd have a man who would kiss me somewhere."
Then to my surprise, she burst into tears. I simply stared at her for several seconds, then something inside me seemed to tear. I could almost feel her pain, I had suddenly realised that she was as lonely as I was. I did something I had never dared to do with any girl, any woman. I sat up, wrapped her in my arms and drew her against me, hugging her tightly.
When her sobbing turned to sniffles I'd already looked down at my shirt and realised it was torn from my earlier fall. Using one hand, I ripped it even more, tearing a piece of the fabric loose. Grinning at her tear stained and surprised face, I held up the piece of torn shirt.
"If I had a silk handkerchief, I'd offer that for you to wipe away the tears, but since I seem to always say, or do, or have the wrong things for the situation, will a scrap of my sweaty old shirt do?"
Giggling, she grabbed the scrap of cloth, wiping her cheeks and then, to my surprise, blowing her nose.
"You are the sweetest, most wonderful . . ." She couldn't say anything more, her arms had wrapped around my shoulders and she was kissing me.
Our first kiss was gentle, tentative, our lips barely touching, then desire filled me, overflowed. Her mood seemed to grow and match mine. In a few moments, we were trying to devour one another, rolling wildly in the long grass, our hands touching and exploring. Finally she lifted her head and smiled at me, drawing a long deep breath.
"Wow." She sighed. "I think I just got kissed."
"Well, actually, I think you kissed me." I grinned.
"Oh no," She giggled, "I'm far to shy for that."
I snorted then, but mine was intentional, not a natural snort before intense laughter like hers had been.
She swatted my arm lightly. "I am so shy. Actually, you're the first guy I ever kissed."
"Oh sure!" I teased in delight. "I thought I was being eaten alive."
"Look who's talking! You bit me!"
"I nibbled, in self defence." I grinned. "You attacked me, in my hideout in the woods."
"Speaking of which, do you come here often and if so, how many people do you see here?" She changed the subject.
"Hmm, oh I come here when I need to be alone, I've never seen anyone here, why?"
"Perfect." She announced, jumping to her feet. "I want you to finish what you started, and I want you to do it right here."
"Pardon?"
Her hands flew to her waist and in an instant, she was sliding her skirt and her panties down her legs, baring a dark triangle of moist reddish fur to my astonished eyes.
"You said you didn't kiss it before," She blushed, "And you seemed to wish that you had, so . . ."
She faced me for a few seconds, then slowly eased herself down to sit on the discarded skirt, spreading her legs apart with her knees slightly lifted. Something other than my mind went into action. It was as if I were driven from outside and could only watch as a wild rutting animal took over my body.
I'd never seen a woman's bare crotch before in real life, but as I said before, I did read a lot and I had seen lots of pictures as well as read lots of stories and articles about women and sex. When my body went into rut, my mind had those stories as a reference, I seemed to know exactly what I wanted to do.
I tensed, looked around, then on hands and knees, I slowly stalked forward. One hand captured one ankle, then the other hand grasped the second. I bent and my lips grazed her leg, just above her right ankle sock. My tongue slid along her smooth soft skin. I could taste the delicate salty tang of her perspiration. My head lifted and I gazed up at her wide-eyed stare. I swung my head, repeating my motion, kissing, then licking the other ankle.
She moaned softly.
Slowly, patiently, I teased my way upward, over her calves, around her knees, up her thighs. I kissed and licked first one portion of one leg, then changed angles so I could do the same area on its mate. I kissed, I licked, I nibbled, I rubbed. Where my mouth and tongue explored on the inner side and the top of her legs, my hands and fingers danced and stroked on the outer side and underneath. By the time my hands were cupping the wonderful round cheeks of her bottom and my tongue was dancing on the skin of her inner thighs, her legs had spread as wide as possible and she was panting softly, her voice now a desperate mewling warble.
I wanted more. Sliding my hands up the outside of her hips to her waist, I forced myself to detour around that source of delightful musky scent. I kissed my way slowly to her navel, letting my tongue tickle it as I held her body gently. Meanwhile she moaned softly in desire and need.
She had anticipated my desire to explore the treasure of her body as I moved upward, her blouse had been unbuttoned and opened, her bra as well. I kissed and licked forward, my hands now teasing, tantalising. Some dim remembered tale of a lover's tryst may have been my guide, I may have been acting on instinct, I don't know. All I know is that she was soft, she was warm, she was wonderful, and she had made herself available to me. I wanted to experience each curve, each cranny, each freckle. I teased her breasts, suckled her nipples, rolled them in my fingers as I licked the depth and breadth of her cleavage.
Now with my weight on my knees and elbows, I kissed her neck, nibbled her ear lobes, kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her nose and finally I took possession of her lips. Lifting my eyes, I smiled down at her and watched her returning smile as it shone on her face.
"Now that I've felt or tasted the rest of you . . ." I whispered.
I shifted back quickly and dropped my head downward, she gasped as I kissed her, just once as far down as my lips could reach along her tender crack. My hands slid under her butt and I lifted her, then my tongue began to dance on her soft, willing flesh, up one side, down the other, then back, all along the outside of her swollen lips. Twice I made the round trip and she was whimpering. The smell was driving me wild. I had to taste her.
My tongue dipped, pressed, opened, and explored. She squealed. Allowing the tip of my tongue to drag behind my tongue's motion, I moved my head up, along her folds. I felt the tight hard protrusion of her hooded clit and rolled it under my tongue, teased it, then as her actual clit peeked forth, I sucked it between my lips. Her body stiffened and she squawked, an unintelligible sound of pure lust and desire, yet at the same time, a sound of delight and satisfaction. Taking a deep breath, I supported my upper body, with my head on her tummy, my shoulders on her thighs, then somehow undid my pants, shoving them and my shorts downward. All that time I was steadily pressing my tongue in one place, keeping it almost immobile, just wriggling it slightly against the hard tip of her clit until her body was almost vibrating at the same pace as the movement of my tongue.
With my pants down on my lower thighs, I moved my hands back to her buttocks again, lifting her pelvis as I slid my tongue down for another taste of her nectar. I lapped, I tongued, I delved, then once again I let my tongue drag as I moved upward. This time as she shuddered and screamed. I lifted my head and shifted my body upward.
In the few seconds that I paused, holding myself above her and looking at her delightful face, she seemed to fade out of a state of ecstasy and become conscious of my position. Her eyes suddenly opened fully to stare into mine. Then she winked and nodded as her hands reached out to pull at my body, urging me to carry on. My body shifted to cover hers and she mewed like a kitten, her hands pulling and tearing at my skin.
The tight flesh of my glans touched her moisture and her pelvis lifted to meet my search. Almost of its own accord my dick felt her opening. I pressed inward, eased back, pressed harder. It wasn't going to go. She was too tight. I pressed harder . . . harder. I pulled back, ground my hips in a circle, feeling her moisture upon me. Finding her center again, I pressed even harder and suddenly I was sliding, driving. I gasped at the intense feeling. She arched her back, moaning now, yet heaving up against me, demanding more. In one long drawn-out, extremely slow stroke, I was seated deep inside her. I hesitated, almost in shock because it felt so wonderful.
I opened my eyes wide and stared down into her face, seeing an identical sense of wonder expressed there. I couldn't have stopped myself from kissing her if I'd had to. She returned the kiss and for several seconds, we lay unmoving as our tongues fenced, then I felt a tremor pass through her. It was a trigger, for both of us.
Abandoning each other's lips, our bodies began to move, heaving, twisting, thrusting. Now a wild dervish possessed us, our bodies flailed as if we were attempting to annihilate each other. Conscious thought was abandoned, we were devoured by the desire to please and satisfy our mutual lust. I lost all track of time, all track of reason, I was under the rut of pure sexual hunger.
I remember the instant of my release, but I am unsure if it followed or preceded her howl of pure satisfaction, at that moment, I was too involved in my own selfish ecstasy. I do remember both of us slowing, gradually wearing down like an old clock-spring toy from our mutual dance of lust. I remember closing my eyes to relish 'just a few seconds' of relaxation.
I awakened looking up into Paula's beautiful blue-green eyes as they twinkled, while her mouth grinned and she giggled softly.
"Damn, you kiss a girl's pussy well." She crowed.
"Dad always told me, 'If you're going to do something, do it well." I managed to mumble, still feeling worn out, yet more relaxed than I had in months.
"I wonder if he'd be proud of you now?" She giggled again.
"He'd take one look at you and start bragging, Mom would be the one who would give you the third degree." I laughed, which made my body move.
That motion made me realise I was still inside her and astoundingly, I still felt quite hard.
She saw my eyes widen and felt my cock twitch and she giggled. "I wondered when you'd notice. Don't most men get soft and fall out?"
"Most men don't have you for a lover." I snapped back at her, chuckling softly. "Although it feels a bit tender right now."
"Tender?" She squawked. "I feel like there's a telephone pole in there, rubbing me raw!"
"Want me to pull out?" I asked, praying that she felt tough enough to say no.
"Pull it out? In a pig's ear! I want it right where it is." She giggled. "At least it's shrunk a little bit, so I have room to breathe now. Right now, I just feel nice and full inside."
"I'm not that big." I grinned, "But thanks for the compliment. You feel delightful."
"Shut up and push." She giggled. "There is some of it that has slipped out and I want it back where it belongs."
"You're pushing it out!" I semi-complained, actually loving the feeling of her tightening against my gentle thrusts. "You've got muscles of steel."
Our teasing banter and her gentle motions were keeping me stiff and she knew it. We did play for a while, but eventually my poor worn peter sank and shrivelled, finally slipping out with a tiny pop. She rolled aside immediately, then got to her feet and squatted, giggling as I stared at her in surprise.
"I think you put a gallon of sperm inside there. I'm dribbling." She was grinning as she spoke, then suddenly looked serious, her face turning pale. Eyes wide, she stared into mine.
"Oh fuck! I'm not on the pill!" She whispered. "And on top of that, it couldn't have happened at a more inopportune time of the month. About now I'm probably as fertile as I ever will be."
"Shit! I'm an asshole. I didn't even ask." I felt like a total heel. "Cripes, I don't even have a condom. The last thing in the world I ever expected was to be making love to the most wonderful girl that I've ever met."
"Not your fault . . . got pills . . . not taking them." She was laughing and crying at the same time.
I didn't know what to do, but I just had to hold her. I reached out, wrapped her in my arms and pulled her to me.
"I'm so sorry." I whispered. "The last thing in the world I want to do is to hurt you in ANY way."
"I know." She mumbled, then cried softly against my shoulder for several minutes.
We had gone from pure elation to abject funk in only a moment and I felt myself sinking deeper and deeper into a morass of dejection. 'Wait a moment,' I thought, 'didn't I read somewhere that if a woman took several birth control pills at once, it acted like a 'morning after' pill and wasn't there one of those as well?'
I told her what I thought I had read. "If I were you, I'd phone my doctor."
"I suppose I could," She sobbed, "But to be honest, I don't know if I want to."
"Huh? What do you mean, do you want to get pregnant?"
"Well, sorta." She sighed. "I mean I do eventually and . . . ?"
"And what?" I asked, almost afraid of the answer.
"It's a long story." She said then broke into tears again.
"I've got all afternoon." I whispered into her ear, then cuddled her tightly in my arms.
Holding a soft woman tightly in my arms was a pleasure I had never felt before and even though she was cuddling me because she was feeling uncomfortable with some aspect of her life, I still felt that she was wonderful. In fact, the feeling that I had toward her at that moment was so overpowering that there was nothing that she could have asked me for that I could have refused. All I wanted was her happiness.
Finally, Paula lifted her head from my shoulder and pressed her hands against my chest so she could look into my eyes. Drawing a deep breath, she started to speak quietly. "I do want kids CJ, and I'm almost scared to prevent them in any way. You see, my family has trouble having children." She sighed. "Well actually, we don't have trouble giving birth, but we seem to have trouble getting pregnant."
"I don't understand." I frowned.
She sighed again. "Okay, I'm afraid to mess with my body for fear that I won't have any kids at all, that's why I haven't been taking the pills."
I suppose I looked foolishly curious, but I really didn't understand what she meant. She reached out and touched the frown lines on my forehead and smiled sadly.
"Just to explain, my great-grandmother had one child, a daughter. My grandmother had one child, another daughter. My mother had one child, me. Each one of them wanted more kids and tried, and tried, and tried to have them but either they didn't conceive at all, or they aborted in the first trimester. So, I'm sort of scared to take the pill in case I miss my one and only chance." She explained, her face twisting into a wry look as she continued speaking. "Well, that and the fact that I really haven't exactly needed them, no guys ever seemed to be interested in me."
"Before me, you mean?" I grinned, trying to break her out of her maudlin mood. "I'm sure interested."
"Yeah, I guess you are, aren't you." She managed to smile, even if it was weakly.
"Yes I am." I smiled emphatically.
Then I couldn't help it, I frowned slightly, only for an instant, but she caught it.
"I saw that." She said instantly. "Something is bothering you, isn't it?"
I couldn't help sighing deeply, then I held her by her upper arms so that I could look directly into her eyes. "You're almost spooking me." I said quietly. "I don't think I've ever even looked directly at you before this morning, we'd never talked, we'd certainly never kissed, or . . . or . . . or anything . . . and now . . . you are actually thinking of carrying my child."
She opened her mouth as if to speak, and I gestured with one hand, motioning her to be silent.
"Wait, I want to say this, before I get tongue tied like I usually do." I insisted.
I took another deep breath, then continued. "What I'm trying to say is that we don't know each other. We've hardly met and we've already had sex. I'm not saying that's wrong, I loved it, but now you're talking about having a baby. The way I was raised, a father stands by his woman, he cares for his child. So if you're planning on having a kid, then my moral upbringing dictates that I have to be involved. I'm not sure that I'm really ready for that, not right at this moment."
"It's not that I don't think you're wonderful, I do. I think you're probably the most beautiful woman that I've ever seen and I really, really love everything that I do know about you. But that's the point, I don't know a lot about you, and by the same token, you don't know much about me. I loved making love to you, and I want to do it again, and again, but at the same time, I certainly don't want to hurt you in any way. However, I don't think I'm ready to have a wife and a child, not yet anyway. I really want to have some time with a girlfriend first and . . ." I simply ran out of words
Paula just looked at me for a moment, I couldn't speak and she seemed to be thinking, or perhaps waiting, I don't know, but I was being drawn deeper and deeper into the enchantment of her lovely blue green eyes. I was swimming in them, drowning in them.
"I know." She whispered at last. "I understand completely."
Then she melted against me and I was holding her as she softly cried. I didn't know what to say or do, I'd never had a woman cry in my arms before, let alone have her crying because of something I'd said and done, so I was completely out of my depth. I decided the best policy was simply to hold her tenderly and wait as patiently as I could for her to make the next move.