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From: "Nikki@P.U."
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Subject: My Beautiful Angel 2 of 2(Mf, cons, young teen)
Date: Sat, 28 Aug 2004 19:22:22 -0700
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My Beautiful Angel 2 of 2(Mf, cons, young teen)
By Mr. Freeze
Chapter Two
Heather and I ended up spending the next week together. We were pretty
much inseparable. We spent most of our time either at the park or at
Heather's house. That put a damper on any extra curricular fun occurring
except for the occasional kiss or hug.
I got to know Heather's mom and her sister Tabitha real well. Spending
many nights there eating dinner, Cynthia and I got a lot of chances to
talk. I found her extremely easy to get along with, which wasn't what I
was expecting from the mother of the first girl I dated. She asked a few
times about my mother but I tried to brush over things as much as possible
so that she wouldn't get suspicious. I knew if she ever found out what my
mother did that I would never get to see Heather again, not to mention her
mom and sister who I was starting to feel like family with.
Heather continued giving Kayla tennis lessons every day. Kayla wanted to
make the junior high team really bad so that she would have a shot at high
school tennis the next year. The school rarely took anyone that didn't
play for the junior high. I really admired Heather's passion for the game.
When I watched her play it was like a window to her soul. She thrived on
the competition; ate it up. To be completely honest, even though Heather
was the prettiest girl I had ever seen, it was her passion for tennis that
made me begin to fall in love with her.
Bobby came a few times to watch the girls play tennis with me but quickly
gave it up after feeling like a third wheel. I even tried hooking him up
with Kayla a few times but he adamantly told me that it wouldn't be a good
idea.
My biggest problem was keeping Heather from my house. I didn't want her
to see it and didn't want her to know what my mom did for a living. My
worries came to a head on our one-week anniversary in the form of the ring
of a doorbell.
I was in my bedroom reading one of my issues of Rolling Stone when the
doorbell rang.
"Damn it," I muttered to myself. "I cannot believe how early her goddamn
customers are coming now."
I got up and grabbed my backpack, ready to retreat for the day.
The doorbell rang again.
"Peter go answer the fuckin' door," yelled my mom from her room. She
sounded like she was waking up to a killer hangover. This was strange.
She normally didn't let me get the door if she was expecting customers.
Now I was starting to panic.
The doorbell rang again, and then there was a knock.
"Peter answer the fuckin' door," yelled my mom again.
"Fine," I yelled as I ran down the hall to the door. When I opened the
door, my jaw hit the ground and my heart almost leapt from my chest. It
was Heather.
"Hi Peter," she said smiling. "Did I wake you?"
"Um no," I said scrambling for an idea to keep her out of the house.
"What's up?"
"I wanted to see if you would jog with me this morning," she said. "Can I
come in?"
"No, I'm sorry, my mom is sick," I lied.
"Who in the fuck is at the door?" yelled my mother. God damn her I
thought.
"A friend of mine," I yelled back. I then turned back to Heather and
looked frantically at her. "I will just come outside."
I slid out the door and sat down on the concrete steps outside my house.
Heather sat down next to me.
"What is wrong with your mom?" she asked in a concerned voice.
I looked into her eyes and saw that they were misting. She knew. She
knew my mom was a whore and that I was lying to her.
"Is something wrong?" I asked, hoping that maybe there was another reason
she was on the edge of tears.
"Is your mom really sick?" asked Heather tentatively.
"Yeah," I lied.
She paused for a few seconds.
"You are hiding something from me. I want you to be able to talk to me
Peter."
"It's really embarrassing," I said, almost pleading to her that she not
drag the truth out of me. My heart was racing. I knew when this secret
broke that Heather would be so disgusted that she would leave me.
"Peter, I really like you. Just about anything you tell me isn't going to
change that."
The truth was I wanted to tell someone. I wanted to confide in someone.
Bobby knew the truth, but it wasn't like he was someone who would listen
to me bitch about it. I suddenly believed her. I believed that she would
like me no matter what I said.
I choked back a tear and looked at her. "Let's take a walk."
We walked in silence for about two blocks. I checked over my shoulder
periodically to make sure I wasn't being followed. After one last check I
turned to her and put my hands on her shoulders. She tensed slightly from
my forcefulness, but then relaxed.
"Promise me that this goes no further," I said harshly.
She stuttered something incomprehensible.
"Promise me, "I said more forcefully.
"I promise," she said timidly.
"I must first ask you for your confession," I said, almost in anger.
"Confession?"
"How did you find me?"
Heather looked away from me and then wiped a tear from her eye with her
forearm.
"I followed you," she said looking down the block.
"When?"
"The first night you had dinner at my place," she said, now looking at the
ground.
"Why?"
"I knew you were hiding something," she said snapping back at me.
"I was..."
Heather brushed her hand lightly over my cheek.
"Please tell me," she said softly.
I opened my mouth to speak but then I hesitated. I was about to lay it
all on the line with her.
"My mom is a prostitute," I blurted out.
I heard Heather's breath catch in her throat. She had a look of surprise
in her eyes and I panicked, fearing the worse. Then the unexpected
occurred. Her look softened and her hand returned to my cheek. I turned
from her slightly, unable to face her directly.
"How did it happen?"
"When my dad died she kind of lost it," I mumbled.
"Lost it?"
"Yeah, she became an alcoholic and a druggie and she sleeps with men to
pay for her habits," I spat.
Heather took me into her arms and held me. She then backed away slightly.
"You're shaking," she said, concerned.
I hadn't noticed, truthfully.
"I suppose you hate me now," I said looking away from her again.
"Not at all," she said. "I like you very much."
"But my mother..."
"Is not your fault."
"That's not all of it," I said, feeling like baring my entire soul to her.
"Oh?"
"I steal from her," I said.
"What do you mean?"
"I steal money from her for food and clothes and other things I need," I
said, looking down at the ground.
"It sounds like the only way for you to survive," she said.
"Sometimes I steal for other things though."
"Like what?"
"Like my bike," I said. "It's not like she ever misses the money. I do
it when she is really doped up."
"I don't blame you," said Heather firmly.
"It makes me feel terrible," I confessed.
"Peter, you need to talk to someone. My mom would help you in a
heartbeat."
I suddenly was angry. "You promised," I roared.
"I know, I know," she said trying to calm me. "I am just saying you
should get some help. Your secret is safe with me."
The floodgates suddenly released. I had bared my darkest secrets to her
and it was like a huge burden had been lifted. I began to sob
uncontrollably. Heather took me into her arms and just held me as I
cried. I felt so comfortable in her arms. I felt warmth that I hadn't
felt for years. I remembered back to when my dad was still alive and my
mother held me in her arms and how safe I felt.
After several minutes of crying I calmed down. Heather took my hand and
we walked the rest of the way to the park. As we entered the park she
turned to me again.
"Peter, does your mom abuse you?"
"Well...no I guess."
"You guess?"
"Well a few times," I said. "But she was drunk and really had no
control."
The sad truth was that her customers were the ones who abused me more.
"Peter, you need to tell someone," she said.
"God damn it Heather!" I shouted. "I told you that this is between the
two of us. No one else needs to know about it."
I stormed off towards the lake path. Heather followed close behind me.
"Peter, wait!"
I picked up to a run.
"Peter!"
I ran until I reached the lake path and then ran some more.
"Peter, wait," yelled Heather in desperation.
I was running away from her; away from her love and kindness. I ran and
ran, looking back at a frantic Heather chasing me. She was gaining on me,
her athletic build carrying her like the wind. I looked back one more
time and then looked ahead and came to an immediate stop. It was Tommy
Cicero that stopped me dead in my tracks. I thanked my lucky stars that
he wasn't with his gang. It would be a cinch to get Heather out of the
situation free from harm. I even thought I might have a chance.
"Hey dickhead," said Tommy with a smirk on his face. "I see you brought
your little cunt girlfriend to the park again."
Heather ran up beside me.
"Fuck you asshole," yelled Heather angrily, but out of breath.
"Stark, you better keep a better leash on that girlfriend of yours," said
Tommy haughtily.
"Why don't you just beat the shit out of me now and get it over with," I
shot back angrily.
"There will be no beating you up today Stark," said Tommy with an evil
grin. "No, I am going to hurt you much worse than a beating. You see; I
was hoping I would run into you. I wanted to let you know that I fucked
your mother last night."
"Excuse me?" I said.
"I fucked your little whore mother," he said proudly. "Betcha your little
girlfriend didn't know your mom's a whore, huh?"
Heather shot him an angry look but didn't say anything.
"I saw your picture up on the mantle and it didn't take long for me to
figure it all out."
"You son of a bitch!" I yelled as I charged him. I felt an arm grab my
shirt and draw me short, however. I lost my balance and hit the ground.
Tommy was howling with laughter. "You really are a pussy. Even your
girlfriend can beat the shit out of you."
"You are such a fucking piece of shit," said Heather angrily. "Pretty sad
that the only pussy you can get is pussy you paid for. At least Peter
here can get it without paying for it."
Tommy didn't say anything in return. He just continued laughing and
walking down the path.
I didn't get off the ground. I was much too embarrassed. Not only was
I realizing that I would become the laughing stock of my entire school,
I also lost a ton of pride in front of Heather.
Heather came up to me and put her hand on my cheek and I jerked away.
"Peter, please talk to me," she begged.
"Leave me alone Heather," I snapped back. My eyes narrowed in rage as I
looked at her. "I just want to fucking die right now."
"You can't do that Peter," cried Heather. "There are people in this world
that love you. You would be hurting them."
"Yeah, like who?" I shot back. "My mom? Bobby? You? I don't think so."
"You are wrong Pete," said Heather now in tears. "I love you god damn it.
I love you."
I looked at her, tears streaming down my cheeks. "YOU love me? I am a
totally worthless loser."
"What your mom is doesn't matter to me Peter," she cried. "What matters
to me is that you have a big heart. I saw it the first day we met when
you purposely charged those boys so I could get away. I can see it when
you are at my house and you volunteer to do the dishes or help clean up
after dinner or how polite you are around my mom and that you still cannot
call her by her first name. You have retained such a caring heart, even
though you live in a house without love. I love you and I want to help
you."
My expression softened as I looked into her moist eyes. "Do you really
love me?"
"Yes Pete I do," she said in a matter-of-fact tone.
"I love you too," I whispered. "I have loved you since I first laid eyes
on you."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
After being embarrassed by Tommy Cicero I told Heather that I needed some
time to myself and I spent the rest of the day at home sleeping. I never
slept so long or hard in my entire life.
I ended up sleeping in the next day. I woke up around ten in the morning
not wanting to face the day. Even though Heather had professed her love
for me, I didn't really want to see her. I felt like I had made a fool of
myself the day prior with all of my crying and not being able to face up
to Tommy Cicero. I felt anger towards my mom for all the troubles I had
to go through. That particular morning I sincerely hoped she would
overdose on some of the many drugs she was taking.
I trudged out to the kitchen, not even bothering to dress. I figured my
mom wasn't even awake yet; so going out to the kitchen in just a pair of
cotton briefs wasn't going to be a big deal. As I walked out to the
kitchen, I saw my mom sitting at the kitchen table, smoking a cigarette.
I was livid. She normally didn't wake from her drug-induced stupor until
well after noon. This was my time, not hers.
"Good morning Peter," she said with a smirk. I was sure she was out to
cause trouble.
"Morning mom," I said, feigning sleepiness even though I was now wide
awake and on my guard.
"I saw you walkin' away with that girl yesterday," said my mom with a
smirk. "I suppose she is your girlfriend then?"
"Yeah, she is," I said proudly, almost defiantly.
"Well you tell her not to call on you here anymore," she said now
frowning. "You don't need any of your friends knowin' what I do for a
living."
My anger began to boil thinking about what Tommy said the day before.
"Guess I really don't have to worry about that anymore."
"What are you talkin' about boy?" she asked, curiosity filling her eyes.
"Well I figure the entire school will know soon enough," I said, a look of
steel in my eyes.
"You told that little girlfriend of yours, didn't you?" she exploded.
"I didn't have to," I replied back angrily. "Tommy Cicero told her."
"Who the fuck is Tommy Cicero?" yelled my mother.
"Larger guy, kinda' younger. You fucked him just the other day, "I said
with venom.
A wave of recognition when over her face, and then her eyes betrayed her
as they opened wide with surprise.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said blatantly lying.
"Oh, he remembers being here. He is the one who beat the shit out of me
the other day. He also is still in the eighth grade, although he has had
a few tries. I am sure the cops would love to know that you are fucking
minors."
The look of surprise on her face was replaced with a look of horror.
"That's right mom, you fucked a sixteen year old!" I screamed. "And
everyone will now know that my mother is a fucking whore!"
"You son of a bitch!" she yelled as she flew out of her chair and ran to
me.
I didn't have any time to react. Perhaps if I was more awake, I might
have avoided the slap. Pain welled across my face. I thought I heard
the doorbell, but it could have been ringing in my ears. Another slap
came. I started to suppress the pain. I just didn't care anymore. For
all I cared, she could just kill me then and I wouldn't have cared. I
looked at her and laughed.
The next slap was stopped as I caught her arm in mid flight and held it
there.
"You fucking asshole!" screamed my mother as she connected with her other
hand, which was in a fist.
That one hurt. In fact it caused me to lose my balance and end up on the
ground. My mother went into a fury then hitting me and scratching me and
yelling obscenities at me. I couldn't take any more. It went against all
of my base instincts when I slugged her as hard as I could right in her
face. She crashed into a chair and collapsed on the floor crying. The
doorbell rang again, and then there was a frantic knock.
I needed to get out before my mother recovered and really kicked my ass.
Ignoring my current state of dress, I flew out the front door. I had
subconsciously heard the doorbell and knocking so I really didn't process
the ramifications of opening the front door in my current state. I opened
the front door and charged out, taking a very surprised Heather with me.
The two of us fell and tumbled down the concrete front steps of my house.
I looked at her with a look of horror on my face. "Oh my God! Are you
ok?"
"I'm fine Peter. What about you though?" she said, suddenly very worried.
I realized that I was now standing in front of my girlfriend in nothing
but a pair of tightie-whities and that she probably heard everything that
just happened. To top that off I had just knocked her onto the sidewalk
below. I did the only thing I could think of. Flight.
"Sorry," I said quickly as I ran to the garage. When I got there I
slammed the door shut and locked it. I then climbed up into a loft in the
garage that was made from plywood my dad had put up in the rafters when he
was still alive. This was my hiding place. This is where I came when
things went bad with my mom. She didn't have keys to the garage anymore
and she never pursued me to the garage because if I was in the garage, I
was out of her hair anyways. I was just lucky I had left the garage
unlocked the last time I was in there.
I just settled in when a pounding erupted at the side door to the garage.
"Peter let me in!" came Heather's voice from the other side of the portal.
I sat in silence.
"Peter, let me in now!" demanded Heather. "I am not mad at you. Please
let me help you."
I began to cry. In my heart I wanted to let her in but I was so scared.
Of all the places to let her come, it couldn't be my secret hiding place.
"Peter, please!" yelled Heather, now pleading. I could detect crying in
her voice.
I wasn't going to let her in. I couldn't. For one thing, I couldn't have
her see me dressed like I was again. I knew she heard everything that
went on in the house with my mom and that I had hit her. I just couldn't
face her.
"Peter, don't make me force my way in there!" said Heather getting angry
now.
"What in the fuck is going on out here?" yelled my mother in the distance.
"You get away!" demanded Heather. "Leave me alone and leave Peter alone!"
I could hear the lock being forced on the door. I crawled up into a fetal
position, not being able to handle the situation any further.
"Get off my property you bitch!" yelled my mom, the voice sounding closer.
"You are the bitch," screamed Heather just as she managed to open the
door. She rushed inside, slammed the door shut and relocked it.
Heather looked around the dirty garage for me. She looked in and around
the mint 1969 Pontiac GTO that was parked in the garage. The car was red
with a black convertible top on it. The car was well taken care of.
Washed, waxed, and polished. It was my project car. I figured when I was
old enough to drive that I would have my dad's car. That is why I took
care of it so well. I often wondered if my mom even remembered that it
was in the garage.
"Peter?" she called out softly. "Peter, please come out before your mom
calls the cops on me."
I said nothing. I stayed in my little ball, sobbing quietly as I could.
Then I heard Heather climbing up to my loft. She had found me. My heart
began to race. I couldn't believe how persistent she was being.
She crawled over to where I was, lying in a ball. She started running her
fingers through my hair. I was now crying even harder. I found release
in her loving touch. It was almost like when my dad was still alive and
the loving touch my mother had once given me.
"I heard what happened in there Peter, "said Heather with a touch of anger
in her voice. "I should phone the police."
My heart jumped at that thought. I thought she meant she was going to
call the police on me for hitting my mom.
"Not that the police are already on the way to come get me, "she chuckled
to herself.
"She would never call the cops," I whispered shyly. "She hates the cops.
She knows they would drag her sorry ass to jail."
"We better go elsewhere before your mom gets her keys and comes in here to
get us then," said Heather suddenly panicking.
"She never comes in here. I have the only keys."
It was true. I changed the locks every year or so on the garage so that
she could never get in again. She never pressed the issue and frankly she
probably didn't give a fuck as long as I was out of her hair.
I straightened out a bit and made an effort to conceal my underwear clad
manhood.
"You need better locks. I had no trouble picking it with a hairpin, "she
said slyly.
"I am so sorry for knocking you over," I said in a barely audible whisper.
"It's ok Peter, it was an accident."
"Why are you so nice to me?" I asked.
"Because, like I said yesterday, I love you. I would do anything for
you."
Heather lay down next to me from behind and then she draped her arm over
me and squeezed me into her.
Her body next to me made me feel so good; so loved. I often thought a
girl holding me like this would be a dream come true and in ways it was,
just the wrong way. It just wasn't the same dream I had that usually
ended up leaving me wet and sticky in the morning. Her touch and her love
for me reminded me again of my mother and the way she used to be.
I broke free of her hold and looked at her.
"I am sorry I am such a crybaby," I said blushing.
"I can see you have a lot of reason to cry," Heather replied lovingly.
"Please don't call the cops on my mom or tell your mom what happened," I
said now looking into her eyes.
"Ok," she agreed with hesitation. "You really need to tell someone what
is going on though."
"I can't do that," I said lowering my head.
"Why not?" asked Heather in a pleading voice.
"I just can't," I snapped. "Don't ask me again."
I turned away from her, unable to look at her now out of the disgust and
shame I felt for myself. I then felt her hand on my shoulder full of
love. Warmness flowed through my body. That mere touch conveyed so much
love and understanding from Heather. I turned back to look at her again
and stared into her loving eyes, which were now misting over.
I leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. It was a gentle, lingering
kiss that awakened my body. I then reached over and took her into my
arms. She responded by embracing me as well and deepening our kiss. I
ran my hand over the length of her back, purposely avoiding her bra strap
under the t-shirt she was wearing because I was embarrassed to touch it.
Heather's touching caused my manhood to stir. Wearing only underpants I
knew I wouldn't be able to conceal it. I attempted to pull away before I
could get hard but Heather drew me in closer. I forcibly pulled back and
broke free from Heather's embrace.
"What's wrong?" asked Heather with a concerned look on her face.
"I just don't feel comfortable doing this right now," I said. "I am not
dressed."
Heather giggled. "You goof. I think the idea is to get you undressed."
There was no hiding the erection that sprang up under my white underpants.
Heather's eyes went as wide as saucers when she saw the bulging eight-inch
manhood underneath my shorts. I noticed her reaction and blushed.
"It's so big," muttered Heather under her breath.
I blushed a deeper red.
"I'm sorry. I'm staring," said Heather, turning her head away.
Silence hung in the air for a few moments. I got a wild idea in my head
that maybe I could have her take her shirt and shorts off to make things
even because I was in my underwear. The idea popped in and out of my head
several times as I thought about it and dismissed it.
"What if you took your shirt and shorts off, then we would be even?" I
blurted out in one of those moments before dismissing the idea yet another
time.
"Excuse me?" said a very shocked Heather.
"I mean, well I am partially undressed and, well you can see my, well, you
know, and well if you took off your shirt and shorts, we would be even."
Heather got a sly grin on her face. "What do you say we just take off all
of our clothes?"
I was stunned. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. A beautiful girl
wanted to get naked in front of me. It didn't matter to me that I would
have to be naked in front of her. All that mattered was she was going to
be naked in front of me.
"Are you sure?" I asked.
"Yeah," said Heather without looking nervous, "as long as we don't go all
the way I am fine with it. I am just not ready to have actual sex with
you."
"OK," I said nervously. Truth was that I wasn't really ready for sex
either. "If I do something you don't want me to do, tell me to stop and I
will stop."
"Peter," said Heather tenderly, "as long as you don't insert that monster
of yours in me we will be fine."
Heather then peeled off her t-shirt as I watched in awe. When I saw her
lacy white bra my manhood got firmer and tented my underwear to its
limits. Heather folded her shirt neatly and put it by her side. She
flashed a brief, but genuine smile at me as she reached behind her back
and undid her bra. I was practically drooling in anticipation as she
worked the bra off of her, eventually freeing her small, but perky
breasts. Her breasts weren't big like the ones that I had seen in
Playboys over at Bobby's house. They were small and firm, with an areola
the size of a quarter that was puffed out and had nipples that looked like
small pencil erasers. She exhibited no tan lines even though she had
quite a tan going for the summer already.
"Come on big boy, "winked Heather nonchalantly, "lets see what you got."
I suddenly became nervous. I was going to expose myself completely to a
girl; a girl I liked, a girl that might be scared away when she saw my
most private of parts.
"I know it might be a bit small, "I started as I worked off my underwear
from my waist down to my thighs, releasing my manhood. Heather's eyes
became wide. Her nonchalant demeanor was gone.
"My god, that thing is huge," she said in disbelief.
I blushed and then did a few contortions to get my underwear completely
off while still sitting. I managed to hit my head on the garage roof a
few times in the process.
"Can I touch it, " whispered Heather.
I wanted nothing else in the world; except to see her completely naked.
"Not until you finish undressing," I said, smiling for the first time that
day. "I am completely naked now."
"Not like you were wearing anything to start out with, "said Heather with
a small chuckle. The mood between us was considerably lighter.
Heather bent down and undid her shoes. After pulling off her shoes and
socks, she put the socks neatly in the shoes and put the shoes next to her
shirt. She then started working her athletic shorts off as well as her
panties all at once. She had to go through similar contortions to do so,
which gave me a few glimpses of her smooth, bare, and tanned womanhood. I
was amazed that I now had a naked girl with me in my garage. This was
straight out of one of my masturbation fantasies. I was intrigued by her
smooth sex, however. The women I saw in Playboy all had pubic hair, but
she didn't. I figured that she hadn't fully hit puberty like I had.
"Now can I have your dick?" said Heather, nonchalant once again.
"S...s...ure," I stammered, suddenly nervous again.
Heather scooted over by me and then took my raging hard on in her hand and
gently ran her hand up and down the shaft. I couldn't believe the
feeling that hit me. It was completely different from me doing it to
myself. Her touch was so soft and gentle. I worked up the courage and
finally put my hands on Heather's breasts. They were soft and spongy, not
at all like I was expecting. They were much better than my wildest
dreams.
"You have a really nice dick," said Heather smiling, but with her eyes
still on my stiff member.
"You are so very beautiful," I said in return. I tore my eyes away from
her breasts and looked directly at her face. My body began to tremble
slightly as I got caught up in the emotion of the moment.
"Are you ok, Peter?" said Heather meeting my gaze.
"I am just nervous is all," I said managing a nervous smile.
"We can get dressed again if you like," offered Heather still smiling at
me.
"God no!" I exclaimed. Heather chuckled. "This is marvelous."
"I didn't think you would complain," said Heather with a girlish giggle.
Heather leaned in and gave me a short but very passionate kiss.
"Heather?" I suddenly said nervously.
"Yes Peter?"
"Can I, um, well, play with your, um, you know...um...thing?"
"Yes you may, "said Heather smiling. "Anything you want, just as long as
THIS doesn't go in me." The "THIS" was punctuated by Heather tightening
her grip on my manhood and pulling.
I kissed her deeply and then let my hand wander down her smooth stomach.
Finally my hand found her smooth, hairless, womanhood. I lightly stroked
the outer lips of it and then pulled my hand away quickly in disgust.
"Did you just pee or something?" I asked, panicking.
"No silly," giggled Heather, "it gets wet down there when I get excited."
I was humiliated. I felt really stupid and Heather's giggling didn't do
anything for my embarrassment at the moment. I broke off contact with her
and turned away from her.
"What's wrong Peter," said Heather, now concerned.
"I am sorry that I am not good at this stuff," I said sheepishly. "You
obviously have had some experience at this and you probably expect
better."
Heather took my arm and forced me to face her. She looked down at the
floor as she spoke. "You are the only one Peter. You are my first boy.
I am sorry I laughed. I guess there are certain things I assumed you
would know and that was wrong of me."
"I'm sorry Heather, "I said looking right at her. I moved my hand to her
chin and gently forced her to look at me. "I just want to be good for you
because I love you and I don't want to lose you over something I don't do
right."
"We will learn together then, "said Heather with an impish grin.
I pulled her face to mine and kissed her deeply once again. She then
pushed me back but maintained the kiss. I eventually knew where she was
trying to go and I gradually laid back until I was lying down on the floor
with Heather on top of me.
"I want to try something that I have heard some of my friends talk about a
few times and I think it will help you relax a bit," said Heather smiling
inches away from my face.
Heather sat back up again and moved back between my legs. She closed her
eyes for a few seconds, opened them and took a deep breath. She started
gently stroking my manhood with one hand and she ran the other hand over
my thigh. I was in heaven. I never thought that I would end up in my
garage with a naked girl with her hand on my cock jerking me off. What
she did next really shocked me. She took another deep breath and then
bent down and began licking my stiff manhood from base to tip. I flinched
from the wonderful attention I was getting from her tongue. I had never
felt so good in my entire life. My mind was clearly focused on Heather's
attentions. Gone were thoughts about my mom and the events of that
morning.
Heather then slipped the tip of my member into her mouth and sucked softly
on it. I thought I was going to go through the roof with pleasure. She
slid my manhood in her mouth a few times, only managing to get half of it
in. She took it out of her mouth and closed her eyes again and sighed. I
was in a pleasure induced stupor and I even noticed the sigh.
"Are you ok?" I queried with a worried look on my face.
"I am fine, you are just so big," she said with a grimace. "I want to
make you happy, just relax."
She closed her eyes again, sighed, and then resumed what she was doing.
After a few strokes I was already getting close to exploding.
"Heather, I am going to cum!"
Heather pulled her mouth off of my throbbing manhood and stroked it a few
times. I began shooting jets of semen all over Heather's face and my own
stomach. My orgasm was so strong that I was seeing stars. It was
nothing like any of those masturbatory fantasies.
"Oh my, there is so much, "giggled Heather, "and you got me too!"
"Sorry," I said, genuinely sorry for messing up such a beautiful face with
my semen.
"Do you have any towels or anything to get you cleaned up in here?" asked
Heather looking around the loft.
"Yes, I keep a few towels up here for..." I said and then I realized what I
was about to admit to. "Um...for cleaning the car. They are in that
corner."
Heather crawled over to grab a towel affording me a real good look at her
ass and at her exposed sex. I was instantly hard again. Heather came
back with the towel and cleaned off her face first with it and then began
working on me. She then stopped before finishing the job.
"I wonder what this tastes like. Some of my friends say they actually
swallow the cum."
Heather then leaned down and licked some of the cum off of my belly and
then grimaced.
"It is really salty and I don't know if I like the consistency of it. You
will have to warn me when you are ready to cum each time I do this for
you."
"Ok."
I was really content except for one thing. I knew I wasn't going to get
any sex and I was fine with that. I really wanted to get a close up look
of Heather's womanhood. I had seen so many pussies in the magazines and I
was really excited now that I had one right in front of me. I just didn't
know how to broach the subject with Heather.
"What would you like to do next?" asked Heather.
This was my opening. "I was wondering if I could get a closer look at
your, um, well... um."
"My pussy, Peter?" asked Heather trying not to giggle.
"Yeah," I said with some relief.
"Sure," said Heather spreading her legs for me. "You can do anything you
want with it as long as you don't stick your thing in there."
I got up off the floor and then got on my hands and knees between her
legs. Her womanhood was displayed in front of me, opened like a
blossoming flower. A closer inspection revealed that she wasn't totally
smooth, but that she had stubble around her lips. A pungent, but
intoxicating aroma emanated from it, which made me salivate. I wanted to
try what she had done to me. I leaned in closer and licked her lips from
top to bottom.
"Oh Peter," exclaimed Heather. "That felt so wonderful."
I licked again. This time I got some of her taste on my tongue. It was
bitter, but again intoxicating. I needed more. I used my tongue to
divide her lips and plunge into her depths. I was now licking her like an
ice cream cone, except that I tried driving my tongue deep into her with
every lick. It was during one of these licks that I found a small nub
inside of her and that every time I hit it with my tongue she would moan
softly. I then experimented with just concentrating on the small nub and
Heather went crazy. She was bucking her hips into my face and moaning
loudly. Suddenly her entire body began to tremble and she stopped
bucking. She clamped her legs around my head and screamed in ecstasy.
After about a minute she finally released my head from her death grip.
"Oh my god, you made me cum so hard baby," she exhaled.
The two of us spent the rest of the day exploring each other's bodies and
pleasuring each other with hands and mouths. I felt so in love with her.
She was my beautiful angel.
-- end chapter two --