RESEARCH2

RESEARCH PROJECT
Chapter 2 MORE RESEARCH
By Apollon

A middle age man is drawn to a teen girl he has known most of her life. He concocts a theory about the sexual instincts of redheaded girls in jest only to discover it may have some validity. He continues his experiment with the seventeen year old and she tells him how she started. As in all of my writings the people, places and experiences are pure fiction. Mg

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It was any adult male’s fantasy. I was alone with a horny seventeen year old girl, in her bedroom and had just had a long, fantastic fuck, our third of the day. And it was still early. I was beginning to believe that there was something to the comment I had made in jest about red-heads being more passionate than average.
     
We were cuddled up in the quilt with a couple of towels that we had wisely used to avoid any messiness. My arm was around Vicki, the seventeen year old fox, one of my best friend’s daughters. Her head was on my shoulder and her hand was drifting over the sparse hairs on my chest. It was amazing how her freckled and be speckled appearance had changed from kind of homely to a slim, tight bodied little sex pot. The cone-shaped breasts that she had pressed against me on more than one occasion were firm and scarcely jiggled when she moved. The nickel-sized nipples were pointed like little chocolate kisses. Her skin was milk-white with no tan lines and sprinkled with a light dusting of freckles.
     
Her slim waist sloped quickly to nicely rounded hips and thighs and then divided into long, slim legs. At the divide was nestled a light collection of curly hairs the same red hue as her head, creating an ample triangle but not disguising the cleft of her femininity below. The lips were puffy and a little redness showed from the intrusion that I had recently provided. Her crevice was separated just enough to allow a little triangular protrusion to peek out from a small hood at the top. I let my hands and fingers explore every inch.
     
It wasn’t that I was lacking for a good sex life, although it had been a little boring lately. Donna, my wife and I had grown up and gone to college in the sixties and had adopted the “hippie” lifestyle. We had met at an old house outside of our college town where we could smoke weed and celebrate life. Perhaps we were really celebrating the availability of birth control pills like many of our peers as many of the celebrations turned into “love ins” another term for orgies.
     
In fact the first time we met we were stoned and had to look for a place to “ball”. It seemed as if every available bed or couch had a naked butt bouncing between equally naked legs. Even the floor was covered with all manner of writhing limbs and organs. So we simply floated out on a partially covered porch where my wife-to-be perched on a wooden rail, flipped up her skirt, drug her panties to one side and “balled” me standing up. Needless to say we found a more comfortable spot later to continue and began an extended affair.
     
From the very start of our relationship we were friends and agreed to remain that way come what may. The credo at the time was, “If it feels good, do it.” So we did. We also agreed not to get serious or jealous of each other getting it on with someone else, which we did. Once, after retreating to someone’s house after a war protest, we had dozed on a bed after a particularly refreshing fuck. I woke up, still stoned and horny, and when I rolled sideways to mount my lover again I discovered another bare butt between her legs. It could have been the inspiration for a Simon and Garfunkel tune.
     
I watched for a few minutes in the dark, then still inspired by weed and drink, simply rolled up behind the undulating buns, spread the cheeks and worked my dick into the small hole in the middle. I was met with a series of grunts and moans but nothing I considered protest until I was mostly imbedded and moving with action. I hadn’t done anything like this as an adult, not since experiments at scout camp. All the object of my intrusion said was, “Far out”.
     
After a short time she became my “old lady” and moved in with me. We had occasional trysts with others but none as satisfying as with each other. We realized it was becoming serious and it was solidified when we discovered by some lapse of discipline that Donna was pregnant. We decided on a hippie wedding and a few months after our son’s birth, which occurred six months later to no one’s surprise, we discovered she was pregnant again.
     
We eventually settled into a middle class life-style but still enjoyed an adventurous sex life even getting into “swinging” with another couple or two. But that ended and the raising of two boys and the pursuit of two careers led to a more conventional existence.
     
So when the lovely creature now at my side began teasing me before she had even matured it got my attention. I couldn’t really believe she knew what she was doing by sitting on my lap and wiggling until I was hard or thrusting her chest against me to prove her breasts were growing. And I certainly didn’t act on any of it giving her age and the fact that she was the daughter of one of my best friends. But now she began to relate how she had tried to seduce me from an early age.
     
“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” Vicki admitted softly.
     
“Really? Why me?” I questioned.
     
“’Cause, you were always nice to me and didn’t treat my like a little kid,” then she added, “And I always though you were sexy.” She chuckled. “And I did get you horny a few times, didn’t I?”
     
I had to admit she had raised my libido more than once. I had to force myself to ignore the attraction to her that I felt, even from her early age.
     
“There was that one time when we drove downtown together and I sat on your lap. You got hard as a rock.” She looked up grinning and moved her hand over my semi-flaccid cock. “And when you were at our house playing cards one night and I came out in my sexy nightie and leaned over so you could see that my tits were growing.” I nodded that I remembered that very well. “But you never did anything about it,” she added.
     
“How could I,” I lamented, “You were way too young,” then I added, “And we were never really alone so I could have.”
     
“We almost were once,” she went on, “And I was going to do it. You remember when you came over that time and my mom and your wife left to go to girl party or something and my dad was supposed to be there but he hadn’t made it home yet, his plane was delayed or something?” I did recall the afternoon.
     
“And I was wearing that big plaid skirt and I climbed up on your lap and started tickling you?” I nodded again remembering vividly her straddling me and allowing her skirt to ride up her thighs and how she had “tickled” devilishly close to my crotch.
     
“Well I wasn’t wearing anything under that skirt and I was going to undo your pants, pull your penis out and jump on it and make you my first.” I looked at her with some surprise. “And then,” she continued, “My dumb sister came home and messed it all up.” I clearly remembered the scornful look from Vicki’s older sister at being discovered alone with her sister straddling my lap.
     
“She knew what I was trying to do and just screwed it up. I think she was jealous and really wanted to do it with you herself.” Now that was a surprise. I had never really hit it off with her sister like I had with Vicki. “But a few months later I caught her and her boyfriend going at it so she could never give me any crap.”
     
While telling the story, Vicki’s hand had been roaming over my body exploring my pubes and nut sack, and now had come to rest on my rigid dick. “Now, how was it you were going to rape me that day?” I asked. Vicki grinned up at me taking the hint. She rose up and pulled me forward and stuffed pillows behind so I was sitting up. Then she threw one leg over mine straddling me just above the knees.
     
“Well first, I was going to pull my top off so you could see that I was growing tits. Then I was going to undo your pants and pull you out and get you horny like this,” she grasped my swelling unit and began to stroke it up and down. “Then I was going to pull my skirt up and give you a good look and let you feel it if you wanted to,” she paused pulling one of my hands to her warm, moist crevice, “Then I was just going to move up and get a hold of you and put you in.”
     
She did just that, moving over my lap, taking my tool in her hand, aiming and sliding down over it, more quickly, I imagine than she might have then considering she was only thirteen at the time and, I’m sure still a virgin. As I relished her teen tightness as she dropped down until our pubic bones touched, I determined to elicit the story of her deflowering since she had obviously not waited for me to be her first.
     
Vicki had a look of satisfaction in her eyes as she rode my cock. Her hands were on my shoulders after she had bounced up and down a few minutes began to grind her pubis into mine, obviously pummeling her clit. A slight down of perspiration appeared on her lip and forehead and her breathing meant she was going to get off. I felt her love walls clamp on my unit and seconds after her gasping indicated her arrival I felt my own loins explode.

     
“So when it didn’t work out with us, who was the lucky guy?” I asked, after the torrent had subsided and we, once again were in recovery.
     
Vicki giggled and a slight shade of pink bloomed over her face. “I’m embarrassed to tell you,” she chuckled.
     
“Come on, you know you can tell me anything.” She giggled and shrugged.
     
“Well a few months after I was going to try it with you I was over at a friend’s house staying the night. Her parents were out and her little brother was home. We were lying around in our night gowns watching TV and he kept bugging us. He’d been trying to spy on us when we were changing and snapping our bra straps and stuff. So we told him if he didn’t quit it we were going to pull his pants down and spank him. Then he kept daring us to, so we grabbed him and pulled his pajama pants clear off.”
     
Vicki glanced up at me to gage my reaction. “So go on,” I said.
     
“While we were rolling around trying to get him turned over to spank him,” she continued, “he kept trying to grab our tits and pull at our panties and his little weenie was sticking up hard as a rock. We swatted his butt a few times and then pinned him on his back. His sister said, ‘Look, someone’s horny. Are you going to play with it like you do in the bathroom?’ Then he said, ‘you mean like you do?’ and then he started trying to pants his sister.”
     
“We got him on his back again, I was holding his arms over his head and his sister was sitting on his legs and we were just looking at his weenie when she took hold of it saying how cute it was and started playing with it. Then he got real still and said it was no fair if we were going to play with it we should be naked, too.
     
“So we were feeling really crazy,” she went on, blushing again, “and we took turns holding him down and pulled our tops off so we were just in our panties. Of course he wasn’t fighting much by then. So we, sort of, took turns playing with him and threatened him if he ever told anyone.” She hesitated again.
     
“Go on,” I charged.
     
“Well he kept telling us we were too chicken to take our panties off and then one thing led to another and we just sort of got naked and climbed on him and took turns.”     
     
“And he was how old?” I questioned. “Eleven,” was the sheepish reply.
     
“And you were how old?” “Thirteen.”

“Robbing the cradle, huh?”

She made a feigned jab at my arm. “Well we decided he was safe and couldn’t get us pregnant. Then a couple of weeks later he had a friend over and we took turns with both of them.”

“And that was it?”

“Well there have been a couple of others since then, after I went on the pill.” She rolled toward me grinning and grasped my once again inflated tool, “But nothing like this.” We still had a couple of hours.