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Subject: The Week That Changed My Life (Mf, cons, young teen)
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The Week That Changed My Life (Mf, cons, young teen)
By
Norm DePloom
Prologue-
This is the story of a young boy, his neighbor and his
sister. The memories of that young boy's experiences
live in me still, but I cannot tell this story from
his perspective, I can only tell this story from the
perspective of the man forty years his senior that I
am today. The time of this story is 1962, the place
is Southern California, the 'Greater Los Angeles
Area', as it was known. For the sake of those
involved I won't specify the location any more closely
than that. This was a time before the Internet and
the World Wide Web were even a computer geeks wet
dream. No one had ever heard of a cell phone, or even
a wireless phone. Computers were huge behemoths that
messed up your water bill and insisted that you could
not "fold, spindle or mutilate" any attempted
communications with them. It was a time when most
people still had only one television in their house,
and it was usually black and white. UHF channels were
the latest in TV technology and it took an engineering
degree to keep an FM radio working properly. The only
people I knew with cable TV in those days lived so far
out in isolated communities that they had no other
choice. These were people who pooled there resources
and put an antenna up on the hill and ran twin lead
cable to the houses below.
Who would ever imagine an irresistible beauty named
Mable. Who would ever think that a woman named Mable
would be anything other than a pudgy waitress who
flirted with male patrons to get them to leave an
extra nickel in the tip? Not that I was allowed to
call her Mable. She always insisted that I address
her as Mrs. Saunders, even when my young cock was
pumping in and out of one of her orifices. More
accurately, especially when I was pumping one of her
holes with my twelve-year-old dick. In today's PC
environment what we did would be called 'sexual child
abuse' and Mable would be labeled a 'child molester',
but it happened forty years ago. At the time I called
it a 'fucking wet dream come true'. The passing years
haven't changed my opinion. In today's world Mable
would be hauled off to prison and I would have ended
up seeing a therapist twice a week until they managed
to convince me that I was a 'victim' and needed to
'recover'. Back then, if we'd been discovered, there
would have been a bit of a scandal, Mr. and Mrs.
Saunders would have had to move to a different
neighborhood. Mr. Saunders might have divorced Mrs.
Saunders. The cops, instead of calling me the
'victim', would probably have called me the 'lucky
little bastard'. My parents would have been more
upset than the rest of them, but that was there job.
Being upset is what you sign on for when you
procreate.
At the time I had no idea how old Mrs. Saunders was.
Her youngest boy was in high school and participated
in a lot of after school sports, well, so did his
mother, just a different variety. She was a short,
but extremely well proportioned woman, and I was a bit
on the tall side for a twelve year old, almost as tall
as Samantha, my sixteen year old sister, so there
wasn't much difference in our heights. I remember the
day they moved in next door to us, to quote an over-
used cliché, like it was yesterday. Now if this was a
movie we'd do a dissolve to a twelve-year-old version
of me sitting on the front lawn watching the new
neighbors carrying boxes out of a U-Haul trailer and
into their house, with a zoom from his perspective to
the new neighbor's wife, especially her breasts
bouncing gently against the T-shirt that she had tied
in a knot just below said breasts. What the movie
could not relate would be the surge of adrenaline and
lust that saturated the young boys body as he watched
those magnificent mounds. As I remember it my little
twelve-year-old cock stayed hard the whole day,
twitching and threatening to stain my shorts with my
first ejaculation every time she leaned over to check
the contents of a packing box. I really did not care
which direction she faced when she leaned over, either
I got to see her breasts pushing against the front of
her T-shirt, or her equally amazing butt straining the
material of her shorts. If she happened to be facing
away I also got the added thrill of seeing her panties
outlined beneath the tightly stretched material of her
shorts. I know that doesn't sound like much now, but
to a twelve-year-old in 1962 it was a real thrill.
After they moved in I spent as much time as I could
watching our new neighbor, especially when Mrs.
Saunders was in the backyard gardening. Our yards
were separated by a redwood fence that must have been
made of grade Z-minus lumber. The planks seemed to be
more knothole than wood. They looked like they'd been
cut from some mutant strain of redwood Swiss cheese.
My available time for spying on Mrs. Saunders as she
crawled around on her hands and knees planting bulbs
was cut drastically when school started and I had to
begin attending my seventh grade classes. My days in
class were spent day dreaming about Mrs. Saunders'
butt and breasts and my non class time was spent
hanging out in the backyard keeping watch on the
neighbors yard, eager for any opportunity to gaze at
her magnificent body. I probably could have upped my
stock with the other boys (never overly high anyway)
by inviting a few of them home to enjoy the view
through the Swiss cheese fence, but I've never been
very good about sharing my toys; besides I enjoyed the
feeling that she was putting on a show just for me.
Little did I know until later that my feeling was one
hundred percent accurate. Mrs. Saunders later
admitted that she had started showing off her body to
me that very first day, just as soon as she noticed
that I was watching her.
There was about an hour and a half between the time I
got home and the time Mrs. Saunders' husband and son
got home. As long as I was hanging out in the
backyard and not running around getting into trouble,
my mother was ecstatic. She stayed in the house and
pretty much left me alone. Luckily most of the fence
that separated our backyard from the Saunders backyard
was not in the direct view of any of our windows, or
the street. I was free to watch the object of my
developing lust with my hand down the front of my
shorts, secure in the knowledge that no one could see
me. No one but Mrs. Saunders, of course, but up to
that time I didn't think she was watching.
Monday-
I vividly remember the first time I ejaculated. I
would come home every afternoon and head out into the
backyard to 'play'. I'd quietly (I thought) position
myself at the place along the fence that was the
closest to where Mrs. Saunders was gardening, then
slip my hand down the front of my pants and stroke my
already hard cock while I watched her work in outfits
that seemed to get skimpier every day. On this day
she was wearing the sexiest, most revealing two-piece
swim suite I'd ever seen. It was one of the new
'bikinis' that were all the rage with beach sluts, and
women who wanted to seduce twelve-year-old boys. Every
time she leaned over with her head in my direction I
could almost, but not quite see her nipples and every
time she bent over with her behind towards me I could
just barely make out where her crotch skin began to
darken. I was jerking so hard on my stiff little dick
I'm surprised that I didn't rip it off. After
torturing me for about twenty minutes with her
gardening Mrs. Saunders moved over to her redwood
chase lounge and, after stretching in a way that made
me think that she must be part cat, reclined on the
lounge. I quickly moved to my favorite 'lounge'
knothole and continued to watch her. Mrs. Saunders
had laid down half turned onto her left side, with her
legs together and her knees bent. As I watched Mr.
Saunders slowly lifted her right knee, spreading her
legs until she was laying on her back with her thighs
against the arm rests. As I stared and pulled harder
than ever on my poor little hard cock, Mrs. Saunders
reached down between her legs and, hooking her finger
under the crotch, adjusted the swim suit bottoms for a
more comfortable fit. In the process she, seemingly
without realizing it, held the crotch of her suit to
the side allowing me my first glimpse of a real, live,
female pussy. My look only lasted for three or four
seconds, but when she covered back up my hand was
sticky with my first ejaculation, and I suddenly
realized that I had moaned out loud. I quickly ducked
down, then a few seconds later slowly raised my head
to peak through the knothole again. She was still
laying on the lounge, her legs still spread, a small
half smile on her face and, as far as I could tell,
not paying the least bit of attention to me. I
breathed a sigh of relief and examined the sticky
effluence coating my fingers and half soft cock. As
soon as I looked through the knothole again she re-
adjusted her bathing suit crotch giving me an even
longer glimpse of her charms. Just as her husband's
car pulled into the drive way, Mrs. Saunders
stretched, re-adjusted her bathing suit crotch once
again, this time actually holding the material aside
with one finger while she casually rubbed another
finger up and down her slit a couple of times, then
got off the lounge and headed into the house. It was
only when she was gone that I realized that she had
been looking straight at the knothole I was peaking
through during that entire last swim suit crotch
adjustment. Even if nothing else had ever happened
between Mrs. Saunders and I, that would have been
enough to feed my masturbatory fantasies for years to
come.
As soon as I realized that Mrs. Saunders had been
looking at me during that last adjustment, I dashed
around the house and went inside to my room. I spent
the evening expecting a knock on the door and Mr. or
Mrs. Saunders (or both) to report my perverted
behavior to my parents. The fear of being reported to
my parents did not stop me from masturbating to my
second ejaculation that night as I laid in bed and
thought about Mrs. Saunders' finger slowly running up
and down the folds of her pussy.
Tuesday-
The fear of being caught did not stop me from heading
for the fence as soon as I got home from school the
next afternoon. I knelt down and peaked through the
knothole, but I couldn't see anyone. For the first
time since school started the Saunders' back yard
appeared to be empty. Shit, I thought, she did see
me.
"I like it when you watch me." Mrs. Saunders' deep
sexy voice seemed to be coming from right next to me.
I started to dash off even before I realized what she
had said.
"Don't run off." She continued. I looked back
through the knothole and saw her just off to the side,
next to the fence.
"I really do like it when you look at me." This time
her voice, and the words she spoke seemed to reach
right inside me and twist my guts into a knot of
excitement.
"I'd like looking at you too." My hard cock twitched
when I heard that.
"I've taken the nails of the bottom of these two
boards," the sexiest voice in the world informed me,
"I'm going to lay down on the lounge. If you come over
I'll let you look at it as close as you want."
Suddenly she was staring me in the eye through the
knothole, "I'll even let you touch it." My cock spewed
its third dose of cum into my shorts without me even
laying a hand on it.
With that she stood up, turned and walked, with, is
seemed to me, a little extra wiggle in her hips, to
the lounge. As I watched through the fence Mrs.
Saunders pulled her swim suit bottoms down her long
legs then, kicking them aside, reclined on the lounge.
She bent her knees and spread her legs until the souls
of her feet were touching each other and her thighs
were resting on the arms of the lounge. There in
front of me was a naked pussy just waiting for me to
come over and touch it. Mrs. Saunders leaned forward
and, reaching behind her back, unhooked the top of her
bathing suit then let it slide down her arms. She
dropped it onto the patio, and the object of my
obsessions leaned back on the recliner totally naked
and waiting for me. I remember tripping and
sprawling across the patio in my mad dash through the
fence, but Mrs. Saunders being, in my opinion, a true
lady refrained from laughing at my adolescent
clumsiness. I got up and, more embarrassed by the
fall than by the situation, walked the last few feet
to the lounge without taking my eyes off Mrs.
Saunders' hairy crotch.
"Sit facing me with one leg on each side of the
lounge," she instructed, "closer." I scooted up until
I was almost setting on her feet. She took my hands
in hers and brought them to her hard-nippled naked
breasts.
"I'd like you to suck on my nipples for me." She said
it with just the trace of a pout that made me feel
like I'd be doing her a big favor if I did. Since
I've never been one to disappoint a woman, especially
when she has a hot, wet, naked cunt waiting for me, I
leaned forward and began to suck, experimentally, on
her right nipple.
"Ooh, yes, that feels so good." With one hand she
held my head to her breast while she slipped her other
hand down inside my shorts. I was startled when her
soft fingers first touched my hard little boy dick.
If I hadn't cum in my pants just a few minutes earlier
I would have dumped a load on her fingers as soon as
they made contact with me. God what an electric
thrill went through me, I had never imagined that
someone else touching my cock could feel so much
better than me touching it myself. I never wanted her
to stop; I couldn't imagine that anything could
possibly feel better. Little did I know that Mrs.
Saunders would soon be showing me things that felt a
million times better than her fingers.
"Suck on my other nipple," she suggested, urging my
mouth over to her other breast. "My little man has
started ejaculating already," she whispered in my ear
as her fingers continued working expertly on my dick,
"pretty soon my little man is going to be pumping his
cum into my cunt." My cock twitched in her hand in
response to her dirty talk. I whimpered like a
deprived puppy, without taking my mouth from her
nipple, when she pulled her hand from my shorts.
Placing a hand on each of my cheeks, Mrs. Saunders
gently pried my lips from her breast then, tilting my
face up, brought her lips to mine and pushed her
tongue into my mouth. Thrill after thrill cursed
through my body, she took my hand in hers and guided
my fingers down to her warm, wet, mysterious pussy.
My whole body jerked when my fingers first touched her
hot flesh.
"I know this is what you boys like," she continued in
her husky, sexy voice as she guided my fingers into
her, "a nice wet cunt." My body jerked again when I
heard her say cunt. Cunt was the dirtiest word I
knew, even dirtier than fuck, and I had never dreamed
that I would hear a girl saying it.
"Do you want me to teach you how to make every woman
you ever fuck become your sex slave, willing to do
everything you ask her to do, no matter how nasty?" I
sat on the lounge my eyes glued to Mrs. Saunders'
pussy, my fingers reveling in the feel of hot wet
cunt, nodding my head at everything the woman said to
me. I didn't really understand what she meant but if
she had said 'do you want to cut off your dick and
feed it to the cat?' I would have given her the same
silly grin while I nodded my head up and down like one
of those idiotic dogs in the back window of a car.
"The cunt is nice," Mrs. Saunders continued stating
what was, for me, too obvious to need repeating, "but
if you want to turn every woman you fuck into a mass
of quivering jelly, willing to do anything your
perverted little mind wants you have to learn about
the clitoris." As she spoke Mrs. Saunders slowly
pulled my finger from her wet hole and moved them up
to the top of her slit. "You feel that? You feel
that hard little knot of flesh?" I nodded my head
indicating that I did, even though I wasn't really
sure I knew what she was talking about. "That is the
clitoris, if you learn to touch that in just the right
way, every woman will be yours." Mrs. Saunders worked
my fingers over her clitoris showing me how to touch a
woman.
"You go ahead and explore," she said as she lifted her
legs then spread them further apart so her knees were
hanging over the arms of the lounge. I laid down on
my stomach with my face only a few inches from Mrs.
Saunders' pussy and, using both hands, began to
thoroughly explore the warm, wet, mysterious folds of
flesh that were normally hidden between her legs and
beneath her clothes. I gently pulled her open, pushed
fingers into her and, after definitely identifying it,
pulled and pushed and prodded at her hard little
clitoris. Mrs. Saunders kept up a steady stream of
advice and comments, telling me what felt best to her
and when I was being too rough. I inhaled, and became
intoxicated by her odor. I have no idea how long she
let me play with her body in this way, I continued
until she helped me to set up on the lounge.
"You have to go back home now," I must have had a
totally blank look on my face, "my husbands coming
home," I heard a car door closing in the driveway
around in front of the house.
"Come back over tomorrow," she said then, once again
holding my face with her hands on my cheeks, gave me a
quick but still deep kiss, "now get back through the
fence." I scurried through the fence, then turned for
one last look of Mrs. Saunders pulling her swimsuit
bottom back up her legs. She blew me a quick kiss
then headed into the house, fastening her swimsuit top
as she walked. I heard my mother calling and went
around to the other side of the house and in the door
that led through the laundry room and into the
kitchen. To top off a most wonderful afternoon, my
mother was fixing spaghetti, my favorite food, for
dinner. My mother asked me to set the table, and I
almost dropped the plates when I realized that my
mother had a cunt between her legs just like Mrs.
Saunders. I had known this on a theoretical basis,
but now I really knew it. I'd seen pictures of naked
women in the men's magazines that one of my friends
had stolen from his father, but to really see, touch
and smell the real thing was entirely different. Now
I knew what to imagine, and I discovered I could
imagine any woman on that lounge with her legs hanging
over the arms and her cunt waiting for my exploring
fingers. I tried it using my older sister and
discovered an extra thrill in imagining the forbidden.
I tried imagining my mother on the lounge saying the
same things to me that Mrs. Saunders had said and
discovered the more forbidden an imagined thing was,
the greater the thrill imagining it. I spent the rest
of that evening, and most of the next day at school,
thinking about Mrs. Saunders' whispered promise that I
would be allowed to cum inside her magical mysterious
pussy. I'm going to fuck Mrs. Saunders. Those words
played over and over all day in my mind, driving out
any other thoughts and keeping my cock hard.
Wednesday-
I rushed home and changed into my shorts and T-shirt,
then got waylaid by my mother who had a couple of
chores I had to do for her. So with visions of Mrs.
Saunders' naked pussy and hard nipples dancing in my
head, I collected all the trash from all the trash
cans and brown paper bags that were being used in lieu
of trashcans. After taking the collected trash to the
trash can outside the back door, I had to take the
larger can to the curb. This was job I usually
enjoyed, keeping the can balanced on its bottom edge
while I rolled it down the driveway. I always liked
to see how far I could roll it without it
straightening up, or tipping over completely leaving
me with a large mess to clean up. That's what
happened on that particular afternoon. About half way
down the driveway I lost control of the trashcan and
it fell on its side and rolled the rest of the way
down to the street, spewing trash all over the place.
"Oh fuck!" I blurted out, then looked around to make
sure my mom wasn't in hearing range.
"Not unless you hurry up and get that mess cleaned
up." I almost jumped out of my skin when I heard Mrs.
Saunders deep sexy voice. When I looked up she was
standing at the gate leading into her back yard. The
corner of their garage blocked her from being seen
from the street. She lifted the knotted T-shirt off
her breasts then cupped them with her hands and played
with her nipples while I stood watching. "Hurry up,"
she said, dropping her shirt back into place, "I'm
waiting for you." Mrs. Saunders blew me a kiss then
disappeared into her back yard closing the gate behind
her. I felt like a hardon with a body attached to it
as I quickly picked up the trash and stuffed it back
into the can.
The gate that led into our backyard was on the
opposite side of the house from the section of fence
that separated our backyard from the Saunders'
backyard. That, and the fact that the outside wall of
our house that faced their back yard did not have
windows, made the area private enough for me to spy on
our neighbor without getting caught, except by her, of
course. After picking up the trash I went through our
gate instead of through the house hoping to avoid my
mother and any more tasks she might have for me to
perform. It never occurred to me that I could have
gone into the Saunders' backyard through their gate.
My ploy failed, mom happened to be looking out the
patio door when I walked by.
"I need you to go to the store for me," she said as
she slid the door open. I almost said 'oh fuck' as I
came to a screeching halt in my mad dash across the
backyard, but I caught myself just in time.
"OK mom, I'll go to the store." I said instead,
speaking a bit louder than normal hoping Mrs. Saunders
would hear, and understand that I wasn't avoiding her
on purpose. Normally I would have been more than
happy to get away from the house and go to the store,
but that was before I'd developed other, more
compelling, after school interests. I went into the
house through the patio door and back out the front
with a list of items to buy, a ten-dollar bill and an
admonition to return with all the change.
"Hurry back," Mrs. Saunders said as she teased me with
another brief glimpse of her tits, "I'll be waiting."
Then she blew me another kiss and disappeared into her
backyard again. I ran all the way to the store and
gathered up the items I needed to purchase then stood
impatiently in line waiting for my turn to give money
to the clerk. While I waited I resumed an activity
that had kept me occupied most of the day. I was
developing the habit of picturing every female I saw
laying naked on Mrs. Saunders' lounge with her legs
spread wide and her hands holding her breasts up for
me to suck. Even now, forty years later, every woman
I see is subject to my imaginary voyeurism. Not even
Mrs. Phillips, the cranky old lady who taught
geography that year, was spared from spending time in
the lounge chair of my mind. Besides, the geography I
was learning from Mrs. Saunders was much more
interesting than the geography I was learning from
Mrs. Phillips. While I waited impatiently, the clerk,
the woman ahead of me in line and the woman who walked
by with a half-full grocery cart all logged varying
amounts of time in my imaginary lounge. Finally it
was my turn to pay for my purchase then I ran back
home as fast as I could carrying a half full grocery
bag. I put the bag of groceries on the counter in the
kitchen, dropped the change on the tile counter beside
the sack then, pausing only long enough to shout to
mom that I was going out back, dashed out the patio
door and around to the side of the house. I paused at
the fence to peak through a knothole and make sure
Mrs. Saunders was alone.
"Come on," she called softly with a touch of
irritation in her voice, "you've already wasted most
of the afternoon." I pushed my way through the fence
and approached the lounge where Mrs. Saunders was
waiting for me, already naked except for a big floppy
hat. As soon as I arrived beside the lounge I started
to reach for her naked cunt only to have my hand
slapped away.
"It's considered good manners," she said as she
reached up and, placing her hand on the back of my
neck, pulled my face toward hers, "to kiss a girl
before you start feeling up her cunt." Our lips met
and she pushed her tongue into my mouth. I sucked on
her tongue, then when she started to break off the
kiss I pushed our lips back together and stuck my
tongue into her mouth.
"Very good," she said when we pulled our faces back
from each other, "if you don't kiss a girl before you
start playing with her tits or pussy you might make
her feel like a whore, and most women don't like
feeling like a whore. Especially when they are acting
like one." She finished as she took my wrist and
moved my hand to her waiting cunt. I wasn't really
sure what a whore was, I just new it was one of the
'bad' words. I knelt beside the lounge and pushed
three fingers into Mrs. Saunders as she laid back on
the lounge and slowly moved her hips, fucking her cunt
on my fingers.
"Right there," she told me adjusting where my thumb
was gently pushing, "just hold your hand there and let
me make myself cum." I did as she asked, holding my
hand motionless while Mrs. Saunders worked her hips in
figure eights pushing her clitoris against my thumb
more and more firmly until she closed her legs,
capturing my hand between them.
"My little man makes me so fucking horny," she said as
she grabbed my head and explored my mouth with her
tongue while she jerked her cunt repeatedly against my
hand.
"That was so nice," she said as she released my head
and relaxed her thighs. She lay sprawled naked on the
lounge while her breathing returned to normal.
"Set on the lounge," Mrs. Saunders instructed, seeming
to be in a hurry. I sat on the lounge as she slipped
off the bed and got on her knees. She pulled down my
shorts and pushed me back until I was lying down then
took my hard cock in her hot wet mouth. I propped
myself up on my elbows so I could watch her mouth
moving up and down my hard shaft. I couldn't believe
what was happening to me, I remember thinking that I
had pee coming out of there not too long before, and
now Mrs. Saunders was slurping on it like it was her
favorite lollipop. It was another unbelievable
experience of sensory overload. The feel of her hot
mouth on my cock, the site of her full lips sliding
wetly up and down my shaft and the 'yummy' sounds she
made while she was doing it had me shooting inside her
face in a very short time.
"Go on," she said helping me to pull up my shorts just
as we heard the door close on her husband's car in the
driveway. I dove through the fence, then crouched
down and watched as she quickly slipped her shorts and
knotted T-shirt back on then, after blowing me another
kiss, walked calmly into the house to welcome her
husband home with a kiss from the mouth that had just
sucked on my dick. As I watched Mrs. Saunders put her
arms around her husbands neck and, while he pushed his
hands inside her shorts and massaged her ass, she
kissed him and rubbed herself against his body. When
she stopped kissing him she slipped her right hand
down to his crotch. Her body was in the way, but I
could tell she was rubbing his cock through his pants.
He laughed and nodded his head then they turned and,
still holding on to her husband's arm with her right
hand, Mrs. Saunders turned and smiled at me then
casually blew me another kiss as they left the room
together. I turned and sat on the ground with my back
against the fence and thought about what Mrs. Saunders
had done with her mouth, and what she and her husband
were probably doing in their bedroom while I sat in
the dirt. Then I had an idea that was so daring and
so scary that I trembled with excitement. I turned
around and looked through the knothole to make sure
that they hadn't snuck into their back yard while I
was't watching, then I slipped through the fence and
began to work my way around the house to where I was
sure their bedroom window would be. The adrenaline
rush I was feeling felt very sexual to me, my cock was
already rock hard again.
I found the window, a high narrow one that normally
I'd never be able to look into accept Mrs. Saunders
had placed a sturdy gardening bench right underneath
it. I felt a wave of disappointment when I saw that
the blinds were down, and had been closed, but decided
to climb up on the bench anyway just to make sure. I
found a two-inch gap between the bottom of the blinds
and the bottom of the window and carefully peaked
through it. I had hit the jackpot. The headboard of
their bed was up against the wall just below the
window, Mr. Saunders was already naked and lying on
the bed I could only see from the middle of his chest
down so there was no chance of him seeing me. Mrs.
Saunders, also already naked (I was beginning to get
the idea she spent a lot of time in that condition)
was working his half hard cock with her hand and
mouth. As soon as she got it hard enough Mrs.
Saunders straddled her husband's prone body and
holding his cock with one hand looked directly at me
and smiled as she lowered her cunt onto his hard dick.
As soon as she was nestled down on top of him with his
cock buried completely in her cunt Mrs. Saunders
cupped both her breasts and held them up towards me
with a slight pout on her face, like she wanted me to
suck them while she fucked her husband.
Always good for a surprise and a thrill, Mrs. Saunders
then lifted each breast and sucked on her own nipples
while she rode up and down on her husbands dick. My
hand was down inside my shorts, working my dick in
time with Mrs. Saunders up and down movements. While
I watched, Mrs. Saunders arched her back and, placing
her hands on the bed beside her feet for support,
fucked up and down giving me a much better view of Mr.
Saunders' hard dick, glistening with his wife's cunt
lubricant, sliding in and out of her. Just when I was
about to cum again I heard my mother calling from our
patio door. I blew a quick kiss to Mrs. Saunders
then, jumping down from the bench, dashed across their
backyard then through the fence into ours. I heard
Mrs. Saunders' son coming into their backyard through
the gate just as I disappeared around the corner of
our house. Another rush of adrenalin surged through
me when I realized how close I came to being caught
watching them fuck.
I had table setting duty again, but I didn't mind. I
had to count this as a pretty good day in spite of my
having spilled trash all over the drive way and not
getting over to Mrs. Saunders in time to get my first
ever fuck. I did experience my first blowjob, and I
got to watch people fucking, besides we were having
left over spaghetti; which I considered to be even
better than fresh spaghetti. This was back in the
days before anyone had even thought of microwave ovens
so my mom would put the noodles, the sauce, and a can
of corn into her big pot. Then she would warm it over
low heat on the stove. She had to stir it constantly
to keep it from sticking to the bottom of the pot and
burning. In my family left over spaghetti with corn
and navy beans with hammocks were considered gourmet
meals.
While I set plates and silverware around the table I
kept looking over at my older sister, Samantha, she
would have been sixteen at that time. She was sitting
on the couch in the family room with her feet tucked
under her butt, doing homework. As I set the table I
started to imagine her naked bouncing up and down on
some guy's dick while I watched. Then I started
working on coming up with a scheme that would allow me
to see her naked, either when she was changing her
clothes in her room, or when she was taking a bath.
My first thought was to drill a hole through the wall
that separated her bedroom from mine, but I rapidly
abandoned that idea since any hole big enough for me
to see through would be seen by her, and while I
desperately wished for a two way mirror, I had no idea
where one would get such a thing nor how I could get
her to hang it on the wall in the right spot.
Actually I'd seen my sister naked several times during
my life, when we were younger, I just hadn't seen her
since she'd started growing hair around her cunt. As
soon as the table was set I locked myself in the
bathroom and jerked off thinking about Mrs. Saunders
fucking her husband, and about Samantha fucking
somebody while I watched. By the time I got back to
the kitchen mom was dishing up the spaghetti. I ate
two helpings, getting blowjobs and watching people
fuck really gives me an apatite. After dinner I
jerked off again in the bathroom while Samantha did
the dishes, then again while I took my bath, and
finally one more time before I went to sleep.
Thursday-
The next day was mom's regular get together with some
of her lady friends at the church so I rushed home
sure that nothing was going to stop me from fucking
Mrs. Saunders' hot wet cunt. When I got to the fence
I found a piece of paper folded and stuck in the crack
between the boards. I unfolded the paper, my
excitement already dashed before I even read it.
Stud
I've had to leave the house to take care of some
things. I hope to get back in time for some of our
'play'. If not there's always tomorrow.
Luv
Your Cock Lovin Lil Pussy
I almost cried when I read the note. I re-folded the
paper and put it in my pocket. I pushed the boards
aside and went over into their backyard anyway
planning on doing a little exploring. As I approached
the lounge I noticed another white piece of paper. On
it was written 'For You - Until Later' I turned it
over and almost came in my pants. It was a Polaroid
close up of Mrs. Saunders pussy, all wet and open with
her pubic hair all matted down; it looked like it had
just been fucked. Looking at the picture I pulled my
shorts down and pumped my hard cock until I squirted
my cum on Mrs. Saunders' lounge.
Pulling my shorts up I went back through the fence and
took the note and the picture into my bedroom. Before
putting them in my secret hiding place I laid down on
my bed and studied the picture of Mrs. Saunders' pussy
while I slowly stroked myself to another, almost dry,
orgasm. Not having a cunt handy to play with I
checked the refrigerator for notes from mom. There I
found a list of jobs she expected Samantha and me to
do and the information that the spaghetti left over
from last night's spaghetti leftovers had been
fashioned into a casserole with directions for
Samantha to heat it in the oven when it was time for
dinner. I had forgotten that mom was meeting dad
after her church meeting and they were going to eat
out just the two of them then go to another meeting
they both had to attend.
"It's not fucking fair," I said out loud.
"You got that right," Samantha said right behind me,
causing me to jump and drop the note, "but you better
not let them hear you talk like that." I got my work
done quickly since I was hoping that Mrs. Saunders
would get back at least soon enough for a quick look
and touch, if not for sucking or fucking.
"I'm going out back." I announced as I walked toward
the patio door.
"What are you doing all afternoon over there in the
side yard where nobody can see you?" Samantha asked
bringing me to a quick stop.
"Nothing." I told her, the same answer I would have
given to mom or dad if they had asked.
"I bet your spying on our neighbor." I stopped and
looked back over my shoulder. I denied it, but I was
afraid she knew me too well and probably didn't
believe me. "Does Mrs. Saunders know she's living
next door to a Peeping Tom?" Samantha asked with a
smirk on her face that made me wonder if she'd seen
something. I hurried around to the side of the house
and was disappointed not to find Mrs. Saunders waiting
for me on the lounge. I sat down on the ground and
leaned against the fence. While I waited I pictured
Samantha bouncing up and down on a guy and that got me
hard again.
"I'm sorry stud," I was pulled out of my daydream by
Mrs. Saunders deep sexy voice, a voice that seemed to
grab me by the crotch every time I heard it. I was
through the fence like a shot. Mrs. Saunders was
dressed much more conservatively than I'd ever seen
before. She gave me a warm hug and we probed each
other's mouths with our tongues, then she sat on the
ground and pulled my shorts down to my ankles.
"Did you get my gift?" She asked as she stroked my
hard cock with her soft warm hand.
"Yes," I replied with a big grin on my face.
"What did you do?" She asked as she slipped me into
her mouth. I put my hands on the back of her head and
started pumping in and out of her mouth like I was
fucking a cunt.
"I jerked off," I told her as I pumped, "and came on
your lounge."
"Mmmmm," she moaned as she grabbed my ass with both
hands and encouraged me to pump even harder in and out
of her wet mouth. I held myself completely inside her
face with double handfuls of her hair while my cock
twitched and pumped a few drops of cum onto her
tongue.
"I love having my mouth fucked," Mrs. Saunders told me
as she pulled my shorts back up. She gave me a kiss
with the same mouth that I'd just fucked, "bye hun,"
she said, then pushed me back through the fence as the
sound of her husband's car door closing came over the
gate. When I got to the patio door Samantha was just
opening it to call me for dinner. She seemed a little
flushed, almost like she'd been exercising. We at the
spaghetti casserole standing opposite each other at
the bar that separated the kitchen from the family
room. We both ate directly from the casserole pan so
we wouldn't have to wash any dishes. I stared at my
sister while we ate. Damn, I thought, I don't
remember her ever wearing a T-shirt without a bra
under it. Her tits looked hot with the cotton
material of the T-shirt hanging over them. Samantha
sighed, and in the process pushed her braless boobs up
against the shirt.
"Well," she asked between bites, "did you get to see
anything?" I could feel my face turning red.
"No." I concentrated on the spaghetti casserole, not
wanting to look at her. Samantha and I had always
been close, we'd always understood that we were a
team; that it was us against the parents. We never
ratted each other out; we had always been tied
together by bounds of misbehavior. Samantha let the
subject drop. We finished eating and put the
casserole pan and the forks to soak in the sink then I
went to take a bath while Samantha did some more
homework. I jerked off in the tub, thinking about how
sexy Samantha's tits looked in that T-shirt she was
wearing. Jacking off in the tub, or shower, was
quickly becoming a habit that would stay with me my
whole life. After my bath I put on the T-shirt and
pair of shorts that I would be wearing to bed and went
back out into the family room to watch television
until my bedtime. On nights when the parents were out
I was officially supposed to go to bed at my usual
time while Samantha was allowed to stay up till the
parents got home. The way it really worked was I'd
get up and dash into my bedroom as soon as the car
pull into the driveway and would be in bed pretending
to be asleep by the time they came in the front door.
When I walked into the family room I noticed that
Samantha had changed into the baby doll pajamas that
she wore to bed, but instead of wearing her robe over
them, like she would have if mom and dad had been
home, the robe was laying on the couch beside her. My
cock got hard again as soon as I saw my older sister
in what was, for a teen-age girl, a very sexy pair of
pajamas. I could just make out her nipples through
the top. She was setting with one leg folded under
her in such a way that I could almost, but not quit
see up the leg of the short bottoms. I think she saw
the tent in the front of my shorts before I managed to
sit down. I saw her smile as she pretended to read
her history book. I couldn't believe my sister was
teasing me like this. While pretending to watch the
TV, I moved around in the chair trying to find a
position that would allow me to see further up the leg
of her short baby doll pajama bottoms without being
too obvious.
"Is there something your trying to look at?" Samantha
asked closing her book.
"I'm not interested in anything you've got." I
answered then concentrated on the TV Show.
"You'd rather look at the old hag next door."
Samantha challenged, unable to completely hide the
hurt feelings. I wanted to defend Mrs. Saunders, but
couldn't without tacitly admitting that I at least
wanted to look at her.
"She's not an old hag." I shot back.
"How would you know," Samantha asked, being as snotty
as she knew how to be, "you've never really seen
anything, you just peek through the fence and
pretend."
"I have too," I answered, a lifetime of sharing
secrets with my sister was a habit hard to break,
"I've seen everything."
"Yea, right," Samantha scoffed, "she's going to show a
kid like you 'every thing'." I walked out of the
room, making no attempt to hide my hard cock holding
the front of my shorts out. I returned a moment later
and handed Samantha the Polaroid of Mrs. Saunders
cunt. I had expected her to make some noise
indicating disgust then drop the picture on the floor.
Instead Samantha studied the picture with considerable
interest.
"How do I know that's really her?" She challenged.
"Where else would I get a picture like that?"
"From one of your nasty little friends at school, the
same place you get the pictures from those magazines."
Samantha seemed to be almost on the verge of tears.
She was saying that she didn't believe me, but I could
tell she new it was the truth. It was beyond my
comprehension, but Samantha seemed to be jealous. So
rarely do I get one up on my older sister that I
couldn't resist rubbing it in.
"Not only has she let me see it," I bragged, "she's
let me touch it. She lets me touch her cunt."
Samantha acted like she'd been slapped in the face
when I said cunt.
"That's not a nice word." She said, almost in a
whisper.
"That's what She calls it." I informed my sister.
"I've touched her cunt," I continued my bragging
streak, "she's sucked my dick, I've even watched
through the window while she fucked her husband." I
was worked up by this time, I stood right in front of
my sister and pulled my shorts down revealing my hard
cock. "You want to suck it too?" I realized that I
might have gone a little too far with that last move,
but Samantha, while she did not suck it she did reach
out and touch my dick while she gave it a good looking
over. While standing in the family room with my
shorts down around my knees and my hard cock being
handled and examined by my sister, I realized that, in
spite of being four years older than I was, Samantha
was probably just as hungry for first hand knowledge
of the opposite sex as I was. While she held my dick
in her hand I grasped the bottom of her baby doll top
and started to lift it. Samantha started to stop me,
then thought better of it and released my cock so she
could raise her arms allowing me to remove the top and
look at her firm young sixteen-year-old breasts.
"Are mine as nice as hers?" Samantha asked as she
pushed her chest out proudly. I was awestruck. I had
never thought of my sister as being the owner of such
a magnificent pair of tits. They weren't as big as
Mrs. Saunders, but they were firm and had large
nipples surrounded by brown areolas that were rapidly
crinkling under my gaze.
"Yours," I said with a voice that sounded funny to me,
as I reached out and touched her left nipple with my
right index finger and felt the change as it hardened,
"are much nicer." Samantha smiled shyly and blushed
with proud embarrassment, but made no attempt to move
away from my touch, or to cover her breasts. I took
her hands and pulled Samantha to her feet.
"I want to see you." I said, Samantha looked confused
for a second then blushed. "I want to see how your
cunt compares to the one in the picture." Samantha
shook her head, but made no move to stop me when I
tucked my fingers under her waistband and began to
pull them off her hips. Stepping back I watched as
her baby doll bottoms slipped lower and revealed the
top of her pubic hair. Samantha hid her face with her
hands, but her nipples were harder than ever. I
continued to pull her pants down her firm muscular
thighs then let them fall to the floor. I pulled my
shirt off, then pulled my shorts down the rest of the
way and stepped out of them.
There we were, boy and girl, brother and sister
standing facing each other, naked. The adrenalin rush
was even greater than what I felt with Mrs. Saunders.
I put my hands on her sides, then ran them up to her
breasts, Samantha's beautiful, firm breasts with those
magnificent nipples and areoles. Her skin was so warm
and smooth, my hard cock throbbed with excitement when
I touched her. I moved my hands back down to her
waist and pushed her back toward the couch.
"I want to really see you," I said as she sat on the
couch. Again she covered her face and blushed, but
she made no effort to stop me, nor did she offer any
resistance when I lifted her knees and spread her
legs. I got down on my knees and with a hand on the
inside of each of her thighs leaned close to her
crotch. I looked at her cunt, I smelled her cunt, I
fingered her cunt and clitoris the way Mrs. Saunders
had taught me to. Then I leaned further forward, I
figured if Mrs. Saunders could do it to me I could do
it to Samantha. I stuck out my tongue and touched her
fresh young virgin pussy. It seemed like the taste of
her crawled up the sides of my tongue, mixed with the
smell of her being inhaled through my nose and
permeated my system. It was the sweetest, most
delicate flavor I've ever experienced. It saturated
my body and enslaved me.
"No." Samantha said, when my mouth first touched her
between her legs. She put her hands on my head and
tried to push me away. I persisted and her pushing
slowly changed to griping my head and holding me
locked to her while she moved her pussy up and down my
face.
"Mmmm, oh god that feels good," I think she repeated
that about a thousand times while I licked her cunt
and clitoris. Her whole body tensed then she relaxed
completely. Let my head rest on her thigh, where I
could continue to memorize her pussy's look, feel,
smell and taste. I have lately come to the conclusion
that most of the last forty years has been devoted to
an obsessive quest to find a pussy as nice as
Samantha's. I got to my feet and stood, once again
feeling like a hard on with a body attached to it,
facing my sister with my cock sticking out begging for
attention. She took me in her warm hand and slowly
stroked my hard dick.
"Mrs. Saunders sucked on this?" She asked. I nodded
my head yes. I think she was spurred on by a sense of
competition with Mrs. Saunders. She leaned forward
and took my hard cock in her warm mouth. Since I'd
been jerking off several times a day for the last
couple of days I managed, in spite of the sexual
thrill of watching my sister suck on my cock, hold off
for a couple of minutes before depositing a couple of
drops on her tongue. Samantha sat back, working her
tongue in her mouth the way people do when they've
tasted something and are trying to decide whether they
likely it or not.
"It's not too bad," she finally announced, "but I
thought there would be more of it."
"Well I just jacked off in the bath." I informed her,
defending my ejaculat production.
"Ewww, and I have to use the same tub?" Samantha
said, expressing a disgust that I could not
understand.
"You just had it in your mouth," I reminded her, "and
swallowed it."
"Don't remind me," Samantha answered with a grin that
let me know she was kidding, "it's really not that
bad." Samantha finished with an expression that
communicated her lack of commitment to her stated
position on the taste of my cum. It's a testimony to
how close Samantha and I were that, after we gave each
other orgasms through oral sex, we sat side by side on
the couch and watched television naked, already
comfortable with each others nudity.
We put our night close back on as time approached for
mom and dad to arrive back home. I moved back to the
chair and Samantha, setting with one foot under her
and her legs slightly spread to accommodate that
position, would pull the crotch of her baby dolls to
the side every time she noticed me looking at her.
We'd both giggle every time she flashed me. We saw
the lights on the window curtains that warned us mom
and dad were pulling into the driveway about half an
hour later than usual. I headed for my bedroom while
Samantha stood up and pulled on her robe. Mom did not
approve of her setting around the family room with
nothing but her baby dolls on. I'm sure she would
have had a heart attack if she'd ever caught Samantha
and I naked, playing with each other's bodies.
I climbed under the covers and started to fain sleep
when I realized I'd left the Polaroid of Mrs.
Saunders' well-fucked pussy laying on the coffee
table. I could already hear mom and dad talking to
Samantha, so I couldn't go back to retrieve the
picture. I waited, fearing I'd hear a scream followed
by demands to know where the 'filth' came from. A few
minutes later Samantha came into my room. She pulled
the picture from the pocket of her robe, which was
untied and hanging open.
"Here," she whispered, leaning over my bed, "you
forgot this." Without taking the picture from her, I
put my hands on her cheeks and brought our mouths
together. Samantha started to pull back when I pushed
my tongue between her lips, then relaxed and kissed me
back. Our tongues danced around each other for a few
seconds before she pulled away.
"I've got to go," she whispered, then gave me another
quick kiss, "I don't want to be caught in here French
kissing my little brother, they might think I'm some
kind of pervert."
"Thank you." I said, with complete sincerity as I took
the picture from her hand. I waited for a few minutes
after Samantha left my room before I quietly got out
of bed and put the picture back in my secret hiding
place. It wasn't until I was back in bed, and almost
asleep, that I realized my secret hiding place wasn't
all that 'secret' if Samantha knew about my girlie
pictures. That's OK, I thought as I drifted off, I
know where she keeps her diary.
Friday-
The introduction of sex play into our relationship
increased 'the us vs. them' feeling we had already
developed. The next morning, when Samantha and I
passed each other when I was on my way into the
bathroom and she was on her way back to her bedroom,
Samantha cupped my crotch and whispered, "Good morning
stud" then gave me a quick kiss. I went into the
bathroom, pulled my cock out while she could see it,
then closed the door and took a piss. I felt pretty
good that morning, I hadn't even fucked anybody yet
and I had two females calling me 'stud'. With the
door closed and locked I brushed my teeth, then sat on
the toilet and jerked off with my pants down around my
ankles.
When I got home after school mom was laying down in
her and dad's bedroom with the curtains drawn and the
lights off. I brought her some water then closed the
door on my way out, promising not to make any noise.
I was torn about what I should do next. I had great
expectations that Mrs. Saunders was waiting for me on
her lounge and that I'd get to actually fuck for the
first time, but Samantha wouldn't be home for another
half hour and I desperately wanted to see what she
might have written in her diary about our little
excursion into forbidden sexuality the night before.
Curiosity got the best of me and I decided to take a
few minutes to read the diary. All I found in
Samantha's hiding place was a note.
Snoopy,
I moved it.
Your Loving Sister
I hadn't read her diary in several weeks so I had no
idea how long the note had been waiting for me. I
carefully put it back just the way I found it and
headed for the bathroom to jerk off before I went to
what I hoped was my appointment with destiny.
I stepped out the patio door and started walking
around the house. What, I thought slowing my steps
down almost to a crawl, if I can't do it right. I
hadn't even fucked any one yet and already I had
performance anxiety. I didn't realize until years
later that it was my total lack of experience that
Mrs. Saunders found so attractive. Teaching a young
virgin how to fuck is what turned her on. I peaked
through the fence and there she was, on the lounge,
reading a book. I was a bit confused and concerned,
she was wearing more clothing than I'd ever seen her
in, other than the previous day when she'd obviously
been somewhere away from home. She was wearing a
button up blouse and appeared to have on a bra. She
was wearing pedal pushers that hugged her legs all the
way down to here ankles. I hesitatingly pushed my way
through the fence and stood looking at her. Mrs.
Saunders put her book down then held out her arms in
welcome. Walking over to her, my cock already hard in
anticipation, I leaned over and kissed her while she
held me in her arms.
"Sit," she said, patting a place on the lounge as she
moved over to make room for me after we stopped
kissing. "I'm home alone with no where to go and
nothing to do, so if you don't have any chores we can
do anything you want." She paused and smiled at me.
"Before we do anything though you have to tell me what
you want to do." I was suddenly struck with a bad
case of shyness, I just couldn't bring myself to say
the words. "Come on," Mrs. Saunders encouraged me,
"you know the word, I know you do, I heard you say it
yesterday."
"I want to fuck you." I finally managed to say.
"That's what I wanted to hear," Mrs. Saunders said
taking my hands in hers, "but you need to know that
fucking is not something you do to a woman, it is
something that you and a woman do together." She
searched my face, "do you understand?"
"I think so." I told her, even though it wasn't until
several years later that I truly understood the
difference she was trying to teach me.
"Good," she smiled, then stood up, "I want you to
undress me." Whenever I'd imagined this over the last
few days I'd always pictured her already naked on the
lounge with me climbing on top of her and sticking it
in.
"Unbutton my blouse," Mrs. Saunders instructed. The
blouse seemed to have about a million little tiny
buttons down the front, and it seemed to take forever
for me to get to the last one.
"Fold it and put it on the table," she continued her
instructions as I pulled the blouse off her shoulders
and down her arms. I was often drafted by my mom to
help fold clothes after they had been brought in from
the clothesline so I did a competent job on Mrs.
Saunders blouse, especially considering that my hard
cock was aching to be relieved.
"The pants zip in the back," Mrs. Saunders informed me
when I was done with the blouse. I walked around
behind her and unzipped the zipper, then unhooked the
metal hook that held the waistband closed. Moving
back around to the front, I worked her pedal pushers
down off her hips, then down her thighs. I got down
on my knees and pulled the legs off each of her feet
as she held onto the top of my head for balance and
lifted her feet one at time. My face was looking
directly at her white-cotton-panty covered crotch and
I was fascinated by the way her pubic hair was
flattened against the material. I stood up and folded
the pants then put them with the blouse. I turned
back around and looked at Mrs. Saunders, she was
wearing a plane white bra and panties. For some
reason, that I could not understand at that time,
seeing her in her bra and panties, even though they
covered more of her than did the bikini she had been
wearing the day she flashed me, excited me much more
than the bikini had.
"Come here," Mrs. Saunders said after letting me
admire her underwear for a few seconds, "I want you to
go around behind me and look at the hooks holding the
back of the bra together." I walked around her and
examined the hooks. "Now, come back around to my
front." I did as she instructed. "Now, I want you
reach around and undo my bra while you kiss me." I
must admit to grinning when I heard this. I knew I
was going to surprise and please Mrs. Saunders. I
had, a couple of years before, using my mom's and
sister's bras, developed the skill and technique to
unhook even four hook bras almost instantly with one
hand. I had done this not as an aid to undressing
girls, but as a means on irritating my sister. On
many occasions, and always in public places, such as
just as we were walking into church, I would do no
more that seemingly pat her on the back and her bra
would be unhooked. Since she and I had an unbreakable
'don't rat out your sibling' rule she thought up
several mean things to do to me in retaliation.
Pushing my tongue deeply into Mrs. Saunders' mouth, I
reached around with my right hand and unhooked her
bra, then slipped my left hand under the loosened cup
and began to gently pinch her nipple.
"Mmmm," was all she said at first since I refused to
stop kissing her, "how did you do that?" She asked as
she stepped back leaving her bra in my hands, after we
stopped kissing.
"I learned to do that so I could irritate my sister,"
I admitted.
"That was slick," she said with obvious admiration,
"I've never had a man, no matter how experienced, take
off my bra so neatly and easily." I smiled and
blushed from the praise. My embarrassment from her
praise didn't stop me from cupping both of her breasts
with my hands and start sucking on one of her nipples.
"Oh, yes, that feels good," Mrs. Saunders encouraged
me, petting my hair and caressing my back and ass,
"but don't forget you still have to take my panties
off me." I continued sucking on her nipples for just
a little while longer then got down on my knees and
started working her white panties off her hips. When
I had them down far enough for her matted pubic hair
to show above them I used both hands to comb her kinky
hair and gently pulled tufts of it to un-matt it.
Mrs. Saunders put her hands on my shoulders and
watched with a smile, but no comments as I played with
her hair. Once I was satisfied with the state of Mrs.
Saunders' pubic hair I pulled her panties the rest of
the way down her legs. She stepped out of her panties
and I took a closer look at them. The crotch was wet,
I put them to my nose and inhaled deeply. I loved the
smell of both Mrs. Saunders and Samantha.
"My cunt got so wet thinking about us fucking," Mrs.
Saunders explained as I examined the crotch. She
spread her legs in a manner that even I, still a
virgin, easily recognized as an invitation. I slipped
my hand between her thighs and pushed my fingers into
her wet, open pussy.
"You've learned to do that so well." Mrs. Saunders
complimented me on my cunt fingering. She reached
down and pulled me to my feet. "Let's take your
clothes off," she said as she pulled my T-Shirt over
my head. She folded my shirt and put it on the table
with her blouse and pants then got down on her knees
and pulled my shorts down my legs. After I stepped
out of my shorts she tossed them onto the table l then
cupped my cock and balls with her hand. I could feel
myself throbbing against her palm, but I wasn't
anywhere near cuming yet.
"Let's set on the lounge." Mrs. Saunders said as she
released my genitals and moved over to recline on the
lounge the same way she had the previous time, with
her legs spread and her knees hooked over the arm
rests. I straddled the lounge and sat close, my hard
cock just an inch or two from her open, wet cunt.
"Now," Mrs. Saunders said as she leaned forward and
gently touched my chest, "I want you to remember this
the rest of your life." She had become very serious.
"Yes Mrs. Saunders." I answered giving her all of my
attention.
"You know how I sucked on your cock the last couple of
days?"
"Yes." I answered with what must have been a big silly
grin.
"I want you to use your mouth and tongue on my cunt
before you fuck me." I nodded my head and started to
move my butt back toward the end of the lounge so I
could lean forward and tongue her pussy for her.
"Women will appreciate you a lot more," she continued
as I used my fingers to gently pull her open so I
could run my tongue up and down her juicy insides, "if
you give them a couple of orgasms this way before you
fuck them." I ran my tongue up and down the wet
folds of Mrs. Saunders' cunt then, replacing my tongue
with a couple of fingers, I concentrated on flicking
the tip of my tongue up and down over her clitoris
while I fucked my fingers in and out of her wet pussy.
Mrs. Saunders used both her hands to hold my face in
her crotch until she'd cum several times then she
started pulling me up towards her head.
"Fuck me," she begged, "fuck me good." In spite of
all the promises and delays I couldn't believe it was
really happening, my hard twelve-year-old cock was
about to fuck Mrs. Saunders' grown up woman's cunt. I
was overcome by the feel of her hot wet pussy as it
enveloped my dick, and came almost immediately. I was
determined to not have my first ever fuck end that
fast so I kept pumping my cock in and out of her.
That day, with my very first fuck, I learned that I
did not loose my erection after an orgasm if I kept on
fucking. From then on, at least into my early
forties, I always came at least twice, and often three
times every time I fucked.
I kept pumping and, while I knew my cock wasn't as big
as her husbands, it took me a long time to cum a
second time and, as stimulated as she was before I
started, Mrs. Saunders continued to orgasm over and
over until I was done. After my second orgasm (the
third for the afternoon counting the one in the
bathroom) Mrs. Saunders turned on her side so we could
both lay on the lounge, our naked bodies touching, as
we caressed each other and told each other repeatedly
how great it was.
"Wow," Mrs. Saunders said, "I never expected that.
You are a very talented young man." I continued to
gently finger her wet open pussy; an activity that
periodically sent little shivers through Mrs. Saunders
body.
"I know that most people would say that what we are
doing is wrong." I said softly.
"That's why you can never tell anybody."
"Yes, I know." This was one of the differences
between Mrs. Saunders and Samantha. Samantha would
have known immediately from the way I said it that I'd
already told some one.
"Is there something wrong if I have these thoughts
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