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Subject: {ASSM} Four Lovers {Virgil Black} (gsolo, fsolo, ff(?), Mf)
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FOUR LOVERS

My name is April Okimoto. I'm seventeen years old, and I'm a senior at
Notre Dame High School in Sherman Oaks, California where I have a 3.8
GPA. My favorite subjects are history and English, and I'm a varsity
cheerleader. I have had four lovers.

I met my first when I was eleven, when I discovered that rubbing the
head of the teddy bear I called Buster against my secret place made me
feel very nice. So nice that that we started doing it every night
before I feel asleep. One night he made me feel so good I thought I
might die, but Buster and I just couldn't stop, and I didn't die after
all. That's the night I figured out what people meant by the word
orgasm.

And after that, we wanted to do it all the time: Before school, after
school, before bed, and for as long as my parents would let me "sleep
in" on the weekends. Usually, I would start by lifting my nightshirt
or skirt and spreading my thighs while I laid in bed. Then Buster
would begin kissing me, his black plastic nose gently poking around my
privates through the gusset of my panties and making me get wet down
there. His soft ears would tickle my bare skin while his furry paws
stroked the inside of my sensitive, skinny thighs. This was very nice
and sexy, but while Buster liked to take his time, I was never very
patient and would rush him along, beginning to hump my crotch against
him, pressing his fuzzy forehead against my secret place. Sparks would
shoot up my belly and down into my legs, and before long I would
orgasm, my tummy fluttering. It felt so good that it made me whine, so
I always had to muffle in my pillow the little whimpers I just
couldn't keep inside. We liked it other ways, too. Sometimes, I would
lay on my tummy and Buster would stand between my spread legs while I
used one hand to press him against my pussy. If he stood just right,
his cute nose would tickle my butthole while I humped myself against
his round belly. And one time, when my parents were out back
gardening, Buster did me in the kitchen as I leaned against the
counter, teasing my secret place under my school skirt until I came,
biting my lip to stifle the noises bubbling up from inside me. Little
Buster was a wonderful, tireless lover - he gave me so much pleasure
and I never did anything for him! In fact, the poor little guy got
bald spots from all the time he spent rubbing up and down against my
panty covered pussy.

Then, after almost two years, our relationship ended tragically. My
mom cleaned out my room one day and threw poor, balding Buster away. I
was heartbroken. I thought I might never come again. I tried with
Hello Kitty, but her head was just too big. My floppy bunny Fred
didn't work out either, and the beanbag frog was clearly not a
possibility.

Finally, after more than three weeks without an orgasm, I was
desperate. My best friend Michelle Curry was sleeping over, and late
at night, in the dark of my room, the two of us laying quietly side-by-
side in my bed, having exhausted all our regular girl-talk, I broke
down and asked her what she used to make herself come. She didn't say
anything for a moment, and then she said she used her hand. Well, that
seemed obvious, thinking about it. She asked me what I did, and I said
my teddy bear used to make me come, but my mom had thrown him away.
Like I said, I was desperate to have an orgasm, so I asked her if it
was okay if I tried it her way. Right now. She said she guessed so.

So I reached down between my skinny legs with my hand and started
rubbing my fist against the crotch of my panties. It felt okay, but it
wasn't Buster, and I could tell I wasn't going to be able to finish
the job that way. I told her I didn't think it was working. I asked
her if she could show me how.

I remember her shocked, whispered reply. "What, like, do it to you?!"

God no! I didn't want to be a lesbian, I just wanted to see how she
did it, I explained. She was quiet for a long time, and I was about to
tell her to forget it, when she said okay. I was so excited! I hoped
that this would be the end of my problems. I turned on the lamp on my
nightstand. I asked her to start, and she closed her eyes and pulled
up her T-shirt, exposing her underwear. I remember that her panties
were pink and had a little pink bow on the front. She spread her
thighs and her knees were up off the bed just a little. She slid her
right hand down inside her panties, and I could see her fingers
rubbing against her pussy under the fabric. All right, I thought,
fingers, not fist. Michelle still had her eyes closed, and it looked
like she was enjoying herself. But I still couldn't see what she was
doing down there. I asked her if she could take off her underwear so I
could see better. She lifted her bottom and pushed her panties down
past her hips with both hands, then kicked them off. Michelle had a
little more hair on her pussy than I did, which wasn't saying much
because I didn't have any yet, except for a couple of wispy ones on
the front. I sat up and scooted down the bed, closer to the action so
I could see the details.

Michelle was using three fingers to stroke up and down her thin pussy
lips, pressing her middle finger into her slit. At the bottom,
sometimes her middle finger would disappear a little, and I knew it
was dipping inside her vagina. At the top, she would rub around her
secret place (I know it's called the clitoris, now) in tight little
circles a few times and then stroke back down. I could see wetness on
her pussy lips, and I knew that it was the same stuff that used to
soak my panties when Buster did me.

By this point, Michelle was breathing funny, and I knew exactly what
she was feeling when she her body tensed up and her tummy started
heaving. I warned her to be quiet, but she couldn't hold it in and let
out a cry that sounded, to me, unbelievably loud. I lay back, pulled
up the covers, and shut off the lamp before she was even done coming.
For a few tense minutes we both listened nervously for my parents, but
nothing happened. Not a sound. Maybe Michelle hadn't been as loud as I
thought.

When I was sure no one was coming, I wanted to try it to. I told her I
was going to do it, and she said she wanted me to turn on the light so
she could make sure I did it properly. I did, and then I pushed down
the covers and took off my panties. I pulled my pillow over my face to
stifle the noises I was going to make. I did exactly what she did. My
pussy was already wet inside when I pushed my finger into my vagina,
and the wetness kind of spilled out when I dragged my finger up my
slit. Rubbing my clitoris at the top felt especially nice, even more
when it got slippery from all the juice that was inside me. Pretty
soon I figured out just how to make it feel super good, and I was
whining into my pillow like I hadn't since I lost Buster. When I came,
I was shaking all over. It was like powerful waves were passing
through me, rocking my body up and down. As good as he was, Buster, my
old lover, had never been as good as that!

When I finally stopped coming, I took the pillow off my face and
Michelle was sitting up next to me, her eyes almost closed and once
again playing with herself, her hand over her naked crotch. I asked
her if she was going to do it again, and she said she was, so she lay
back down next to me. I was still slowly stroking my slippery pussy
while she got started, and pretty soon we were both doing it. I had
the pillow back over my face so I couldn't see anything, but I could
hear her breathing and I knew when she was about to come. She should
have known better, but I guess she couldn't help herself and she let
out another little cry as she climaxed. That set me off, too, and I
came myself, my legs shaking and tummy spasming. It felt so good I
couldn't stop myself and I quickly came a third time, whining loudly.

I was exhausted and my little pussy felt like a hot puddle of goo. I
forced myself to roll on to my side so I could click off the light.
After a couple of minutes, I felt Michelle pull the covers up over us.
The she turned on her side, too, her sweaty, bare butt lightly
touching mine. I was going to scoot over a bit more to give her some
room, but I fell asleep instead.

After that we did it together every time we spent the night at each
other's house. I also got lots of practice on my own every morning
before I showered, every night before bed, and most days after school,
when I went to my room to do "homework." I didn't miss Buster so much
anymore - I had my new thing, and I had Michelle.

Over the next year we started to get a little more interactive, if you
know what I mean. We would often start out face to face, stroking each
others arms and backs, getting ourselves turned on. Pretty soon we'd
be kissing, soft at first and then with our tongues - in fact, that
was how we taught each other to french! Still kissing, we'd each start
playing with our own pussies, our legs tangled and rubbing lightly
together. It was so nice because she was pretty and soft and she was
my best friend. Still, we never actually did each other, even though I
some times thought I wanted to. Because, although I loved her, we
weren't lesbians.

Then, just after my fifteenth birthday, Michelle got a boyfriend. At
first it didn't affect our sleepover play time, but one night after we
did it she said she didn't think we should anymore. She said she
thought we were too old for sleepovers, and she didn't think it was
fair to Zachary, her boyfriend, for us to play together. I told her
that was okay, if that's what she wanted. I didn't cry right away, but
I was heartbroken again, and I felt hollow inside for days.

That year was the same year that my brother John got into the cars. He
was nineteen and still living at home, out of highschool and kind of
aimless. Then he got a job working at the garage of a man my dad knew
from church, and he figured out he liked fixing up little import cars
into street racers. Later, after he saved up some money, he fixed up a
car for himself. He was so proud when he brought it home for the first
time - he wanted to take me for a ride so I could see how fast it was.

I was scared, but I went anyway. I guess I was trying to encourage him
or something. He took us out to the 101 and then north on the 405,
going pretty fast but not much faster than the other cars. When we got
out of Sherman Oaks, though, he floored it and the car jumped ahead,
throwing me back into the seat. He started weaving in and out of
traffic, passing car after car as we went faster and faster. I was
terrified! My fingers dug into the armrest and I could barely breathe.
Then something happened - I felt a familiar fluttering in my tummy and
the vibrations in the car from the road and the engine seemed to flow
through me. It was like we were moving in slow motion and I could see
everything just before it happened. I'm glad my brother was
concentrating on driving, because I was breathing heavy like I did
when I was ramping up for a nice climax. I would have been really
embarrassed if he'd noticed. It seemed like forever (later he said
we'd only gone ten miles!) but he finally slowed down and got off an
exit before turning around and heading home. I asked him if he was
going to go fast again, but he said he didn't want to chance getting
caught by the cops, so we went at normal speed. It was on the drive
back that I noticed that my pussy was soaked.

When we got home I told him his car was cool, and then ran back to my
room, flopped on my bed and masturbated like ten times! I hadn't felt
so sexy since Michelle had dumped me.

Every time I masturbated after that, even if I started out thinking
about Michelle or Johnny Dep or Kevin Cho from my trigonometry class,
I ended up thinking about how that car ride made me feel. I got my
brother to take me out a few more times, and each time was the same,
and just more fuel for my fantasies. But few months later he got into
a car club with a bunch of sleazy guys, and my parents wouldn't allow
me to hang out around them. I didn't want to anyway, because those
guys had no respect for women. Of course, the result was that I didn't
get to go out speeding anymore.

My parents were pretty strict with me, probably because of the way
John disappointed them. They didn't let me date even after I turned
sixteen, and I wasn't allowed to get my driver's license either. I
guess it did me some good, because by the time I was a senior, I was
an almost straight-A student, a varsity cheerleader, and I was going
to go to UCLA in the Fall, which was where I had wanted to go to
college since I was just a little girl.

Not that they were able to keep me innocent, even aside from my old
sleepovers with Michelle. I had gone all the way with few boyfriends,
even a gorgeous blue-eyed blond boy from my AP English class that my
parents would have hated. Michelle used to help me sneak out by
letting me stay at her house - her parents were a lot more liberal
than mine. I'd been drunk, too, and tried pot once - Michelle and I
often went to parties, and while I still sometimes missed what we used
to have, we always had lots of fun together.

So my life was all right. But there was definitely something else I
really wanted. It had been more than a year since my first car ride
and I still fantasized about going fast, and I could recall the feel
of it every time I masturbated, in my bed after school loudly
climaxing because I was alone in the house, or late at night coming
quietly in the dark. I don't know why the combination of speed and
danger made me feel so sexy, but it did. Yes, there was something else
I wanted to do, and though it took me while, I finally figured out how
to do it.

Martin Wong was my brother John's best friend. Marty had followed him
into the street racing scene, but Marty was a good guy, unlike the
other losers in the club. Marty was second generation, and he worked
in his parents' restaurant. It's totally a cliche, but Marty's folks
had worked really hard and been pretty successful - they now owned a
small chain of Chinese restaurants. The food was even pretty decent.
Marty managed one of the restaurants and was putting himself through
school to get a business degree, going part-time to Cal State
Northridge. Like my brother he still lived at home, but unlike my
brother, he was a Good Son.

He and John had been friends since before I was in kindergarten, and I
think Marty sort of thought of me as his little sister, since he
didn't have any of his own. Marty always treated me well, and
protected me from John's other sleazy friends whenever they came
around our home, too.

But Marty didn't seem to have much luck with girls. Marty was shy and
not that good looking. He had a chubby face, and while he wasn't
sloppy fat or anything, he was just sort of thick everywhere. But I
liked him. He was sweet to me and had a good sense of humor - he could
always make me laugh with just a few words or a silly face.

Also, because he had a real job, Marty had the coolest car of anyone
in the club. That's what John said anyway. All I knew was it was an
electric blue Mitsubishi Lancer.

So one day, I borrowed my brother's phone for a few minutes and got
Marty's number. Then I called Marty. I asked him to take me out for a
ride in his car. He said no, which I had planned for. I pleaded with
him to do it, explaining that my folks never let me do anything and
all I wanted to do was to go out for a while and cruise around. He
still didn't want to because he didn't want to get in trouble with my
parents or John, but I told him I had a plan so they would never know.
So of course he gave in, and we made plans for the next Friday night,
which I had already cleared with Michelle.

That afternoon, Michelle and I went through my clothes to find an
outfit for my "date" with Marty. I had taken a copy of my brother's
Import Tuner magazine, and at first we were trying to put together
something that looked like what the model on the cover was wearing.
After working on it, though, I figured a bikini top and short shorts
would probably only scare Marty off, so I decided to just wear my
school uniform from junior high, which by now was too small for me.
The skirt would never meet length requirements, and the short sleeved
blouse was so tight across my breasts and shoulders that I could only
fasten the buttons below my boobs. For underwear - the most important
part - I picked only a tiny white g-string that I had bought earlier
to keep for a special occasion.

That night I went over to Michelle's and changed into my new outfit,
and then she dropped me off near Marty's house under a street light.
She waited in her car about half a block away, watching as I called
Marty. I told him where I was, and asked him to come pick me up. I
only waited about three minutes, but there was breeze, and the cool
spring night air blowing under my skirt and across my bare bottom made
me chilly. When I saw his car turn the corner, headlights shining, I
waved, and it rumbled past me and then made a u-turn, sliding to a
stop right next to me.

"Um, you look nice," he said, as he got out of his car. I smiled
sexily and told him I wanted to wear something that went with his car,
then I twirled so my skirt rose up, showing off even more of my legs.
He suggested that he should probably just take me home, but I pleaded
with him again, and, I mean, Marty is a really nice guy, but he is
just a guy. Of course he didn't take me home.

He opened the door for me and I got in, trying not to flash my panties
at him. I sat with my legs together, my feet crossed in the foot well,
which was lit with a blue neon light. After he got in, he asked me
where I wanted to go. I could tell he was trying not to look at all
the skin I was showing off. Meanwhile, in the side mirror, I caught a
glance of Michelle's car driving away.

I told him we should just drive around. He showed me how to strap into
the racing harness, which was easier than it looked, though the straps
were a little uncomfortable where they pressed against my boobs. We
headed for Ventura Boulevard, which is one of the main drags in the
Valley, but after a while of cruising there I asked him if he couldn't
take me somewhere where he could drive a little faster. He got out on
the 405 and went north, just like my brother had the first time. I was
already getting excited, even though we were only going 75. I asked
him how fast his car could go. He told me he wasn't sure, and that he
wanted to take it out to Laguna Seca to find out. I told him I meant
how fast he could go now. He looked around at traffic, which wasn't
too heavy, and said he could probably go 125 or 130. I told him to
try.

Marty liked driving and I think he wanted to show off, so he floored
it just like my brother did. I felt pushed back into the seat and my
heart started beating fast. It came on me quickly as we zoomed north
in the left lane, passing the slower cars on the right. I felt
butterflies in my tummy, and the engines vibrations rippled through
me, titillating my whole body. Before long, I was breathing hard and
my pussy was getting dewy. I couldn't really help myself, and I
started rubbing my thighs together, putting pressure on my sensitive
girl-parts. Marty was too busy driving to notice.

I saw signs for the Ronald Reagan, and Marty started to slow down. I
asked him not to, and he turned to look at me. I turned a little in my
seat to face him, making sure my skirt had ridden up far enough to
show off the front of my little white panties. I was flushed and
breathing hard when I told him that it was really exciting when he
went fast, and that I wanted to do it some more. He glanced down at
white triangle between my thighs and agreed, taking the exit for the
118 toward Simi Valley. While we were still on the interchange, he
sped up again, whipping us around the turn, and when we got on the
freeway itself, he punched it, launching us forward again.

I felt like I was riding right on edge of an orgasm, and I figured the
time was right now, or I might never go through with my plan. I leaned
back into the seat and lifted up my legs, spreading my knees apart and
placing my black Mary Janes on the dash of his car. My short pleated
skirt fell back, exposing my legs and my tiny g-string completely.
Marty looked over. "What are you doing?!" he cried. Just then we came
up fast on a pair of taillights. I screamed, and Marty looked forward
and swerved to the right, narrowly missing the bakery van that had
been in front of us.

"Just drive Marty, or you'll kill us both!," I yelled at him.

Despite the near accident he hadn't slowed down, and we still had at
least 10 miles to go. We were going easily two miles a minute, but as
hot as I was I had all the time I needed. I pushed the strings of my
panties over my hips, peeling the damp piece of cloth away from my wet
pussy. Then I started touching myself the way I had since Michelle had
first shown me when I was thirteen, my middle finger dipping into my
pussy and smearing the slippery juice all around my hard pink clit, my
other fingers pressing against the soft flesh of my plump, smooth
pussy lips. I started whining almost immediately and I had my first
orgasm just moments later, my tummy buckling and my legs twitching as
I came. It felt too good to stop though, and after the first waves
passed I kept stroking my pussy and teasing my little bud, building
rapidly to another great climax. I came twice more before Marty
finally slowed down, just as we arrived in Simi Valley. I was panting
and sweaty, lightheaded from the speed and the orgasms, but I pulled
my panties back up over my gooey pussy and set my shaking legs back
down where they belonged. I suppose I should have felt embarrassed,
but I was glowing and happy and I didn't care one bit. It was just as
good as I imagined it would be.

Marty, on the other hand, didn't say anything or even look at me. He
just kept going, eventually heading south toward Thousand Oaks. I
spaced out blissfully, staring out the window at the street lights
going by. Eventually, I asked Marty if he knew a secluded place we
could park. He didn't answer me, and then I started to feel a little
foolish. The final part of my plan was to make him want me, so he
would take me out whenever I wanted, but maybe it wasn't going to work
after all. We drove on, heading back toward home on the 101. I figured
he was taking me to my house, but he exited the freeway unexpectedly
and drove down some surface streets. We finally stopped, the car
idling, in a back lot behind a row of garages.

"This is where I work on my car," he said. "No one is ever here at
night but me."

Cool. I unbuckled the safety harness and open the door. I stepped out
of the car, but then leaned back in and told him to get out, too. He
did, leaving the engine running, and I met him in front of the car,
the headlights shining past us onto a cinderblock wall. I turned him
and pushed him back against the hood of his car, so he was sitting.
Then I spread his knees and squatted between them. With my knees up,
the night air on my wet panties made my pussy feel cold. I ran my
hands up his thighs, heading for his belt, when my left hand ran into
a fat, hard bulge that I swear started halfway to his knee. Oh. My.
God. Was that his penis?

I undid his belt and his pants, and I started to pull them down. He
lifted his butt to help me, and I pulled his pants and his underwear a
few inches down his thighs. Then I grabbed his fat cock and pulled it
out, revealing the length of it, until it was standing erect in front
of my face. It was huge and lovely - the longest I had ever seen, and
thick around with a fat, shiny head. I squeezed him with my right
hand, my thumb smearing over his frenulum the few drops of precome
that had oozed out. His balls hung below, heavy with semen in their
tight scrotum. I palmed them in my left hand.

"I know you want to come, Marty," I told him, "so don't hold back.
Just warn me so I can get out of the way - I don't want to get any in
my hair." I smiled up at him, and licked the tip of his cock. He
tasted salty, but nice. He closed his eyes and groaned when I took the
head into my mouth, locking my lips around the corona. I had to open
pretty wide just to get it inside me. I flicked the underside of his
glans with my tongue. I could feel the vibrations from the car engine
transmitted through his rod into my mouth - it felt really sexy. I
sucked him in as far as I comfortably could and then started to slide
it back out, wriggling my tongue along the underside. That's when he
told me he was going to come. So soon! I pulled off and leaned to the
side, stroking him with my hand as he grunted and blasted shot after
shot after shot of jizz into the dark. Finally his come slowed to mere
pulses, drooling down the fat, veiny shaft and onto my hand. I had
planned on just giving him handjob and a little suck, but after I saw
the size of his cock, I knew I needed to feel it inside of me, too. So
I took his still hard cock back into my mouth, sucking out the
remaining cream, and then I started to lick him clean with my tongue,
swallowing the slippery, salty semen. His erection softened a little,
but then came back as I continued licking his broad tool over and over
from base to tip.

When he was fully hard again, I stood up, my calves aching a little,
and reached under my skirt to peel off my soaked panties. I told him
to open up, and when he did I said "Hold these for me," and I stuffed
my little g-string into his mouth. Then I told him to lean back on the
hood of his car. I climbed up on top of him, straddling his body, my
knees on the warm metal. I grabbed his cock and ran it down the groove
of my juicy, dripping pussy. I rubbed the tip against my clitoris,
sending sparks up my body, and when I felt ready, I positioned the fat
head at the entrance to my vagina and I pushed down, forcing him to
stretch my little pussy open. It felt much too big to go inside, but I
was determined, and my vagina was so slick that once I popped the
glans inside, I sank slowly, slowly down his hard shaft while he split
me open, spearing into my narrow, wet sheath. I had never had anything
so big inside me before. I felt completely full, even before I managed
to sink the last inch, my bare pussy lips pressing into his soft pubic
hair. The mushroom tip of his cock, finally still, was pressed against
my cervix. Adjusting to his size, I rested on him, rocking my hips
slightly and pressing my hooded clit down against his fleshy pubis.
His rod stirred my insides slowly. I unfastened the buttons on my
blouse and my tits popped out, free from the too-tight shirt. Exposed
to the air, my little nipples crinkled into hard pebbles. I grabbed
his hands from where they rested at his side and put his meaty palms
over my tits. He squeezed them softly, my nubbins rubbing against his
rough skin.

I started to rise and fall, slowly fucking myself on his pole,
gradually increasing the length of the stroke. I know I was whining
out loud again, but I couldn't help myself. With his cock filling me,
my clit pressing into him when I sank all the way down, I was out of
my mind. In fact, I was going to come again, much faster than I had
expected. I really tried to slow it down, to draw it out a little, but
I couldn't. I tensed up and started spasming on top of him, his cock
all the way inside me and my poor little clit mashed against his
groin. I climaxed, oceans of feeling flowing over me as I cried out. I
think I passed out a little, because when I came back to my senses, I
was slumped against his chest, his strong arms holding me tightly. His
hard cock was still buried inside me.

Still holding me, he scooted down the car and stood up, lifting me
with his arms and the steely rod sunk deep in my body. I wrapped my
legs around him. He turned me around and gently laid me down on the
hood of the car, leaning over me, the hard, warm metal against my
back. He made a few slow thrusts into me but, with such a big tool,
the angle was wrong and I pushed him off. I stood up in front of him
and turned around, my legs straight and slightly spread and my back
sloped, pressing my chest and face against the car hood. "This way," I
told him, flipping my skirt up over my bottom, and he stepped forward
and grabbed my hips. I reached between my legs for his cock and held
it in place while he pushed into me, splitting my tight pussy open all
over again, just like the first time. I came a little right away, and
never really stopped coming after that. Little climaxes rocketed
through me as he increased the pace of his fucking, until he was
pounding me pretty brutally, his strong arms slamming my ass into his
soft belly over and over, his hard cock thumping against my cervix on
each stroke. It hurt, but it felt amazing at the same time, and when
he growled through his clenched teeth, pressed himself deep inside me,
and I felt the warmth of his ejaculate spreading out along my slick
canal, I orgasmed too, almost as hard as before.

He stood there behind me, his cock wilting inside my body as our
combined juices flowed out of me and down my trembling thighs. The car
rumbled quietly underneath, my left cheek resting on the warm hood,
saliva forming a small puddle around my chin before I eventually found
the strength wipe myself off. Finally he stepped back, his cock
slipping from my pussy with a little slurp and an extra spurt of runny
spunk. Marty helped me back to my feet and held me up while I regained
my balance. I was dizzy from coming. He didn't say anything at all,
but his eyes were smiling at me.

I asked him if he had something I could use to clean off. He took off
his T-shirt and handed it to me, and I used it to towel off my wet
thighs and bottom and tried to soak up some of the come still dripping
out of me, while he went back to the car and popped the trunk. He
dug around inside and came back with a windbreaker for me to wear and
another T-shirt for himself. While I put on the jacket, he walked me
to the passenger side of the car and opened the door for me, holding
my hand while I climbed inside.

He went around and got in the car, too, and sitting behind the wheel
he put his thumb and index finger into his mouth and slowly pulled out
my tiny white panties. "These are yours, I think," he said, grinning
like a little boy, holding them up for me to take. I told him he could
keep them.

He drove me over to Michelle's house. The whole way back, I was quiet,
feeling dreamy and happy, and remembering how wonderful it felt to be
so full with him, even though my pussy was sticky and starting to
ache. I knew I would be sore in the morning, but I was almost looking
forward to it, knowing that I would be thinking of his beautiful cock
all day - all the time, probably, until I got it inside me again. When
we got to Michelle's house, Marty and I sat in his car for a minute,
and he shyly asked if I thought I might want to go for a ride again
some time soon.

"How about tomorrow?" I said, and kissed his cheek goodnight.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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