Author: The Naughty Gaffer brndtag at mcn.net.
Please use “Story Comments” in subject line if you send e-mail.
Title: The Goddess MacKenzie  
Keywords: mf, cons, petting, rom, very very slow, 1st, spank
Summary: My favorite work: young love from 14 to marriage 
Gaffer’s Note: I’ve written a fair amount of porn. This item is hands-down my favorite piece of my own work.
I was a typical fourteen-year-old boy physically. I was far from my full height, I hoped, being about five foot four and weighing a strapping 110 pounds. If I had my shoes on. I had been bemused over the last year or so, watching my pubic hair begin to grow out and seeing my penis and my scrotum take on a life of their own. I had read in many places that a “normal” erect penis was about six inches long and I was pleased that I “measured up” in the most literal sense. Actually, I was so thin that my erection looked almost too large for the skinny ass behind it.
I had learned to play with myself almost by accident. When I was a small boy, I had lain on my stomach and rocked side to side against my cock. It had been a mildly pleasurable sensation that I simply took for granted like chocolate milk. Sometime after my thirteenth birthday, lying in bed one night, I felt an urge to try the rocking game again. I slid my pajama pants and my underpants down so my penis lay between my belly and the smooth sheet on my bed. Then I squirmed and rolled from side to side as I had before. My cock quickly became stiff and sensitive. There was almost a glowing feeling up its length and into my balls. I continued to rock for several minutes, then slowed down and stopped. After I put my clothes back together, I went to sleep in great content.
I continued my rocking game for a few nights in the same way: slip my pants and my underpants down, feel my erection grow against my belly, then rock and squirm for a while. On the third occasion, I felt a rushing sensation – that’s the only way I can describe it – as if something were about to come from my penis. I felt a great urge to stop it, though, so I pressed my belly hard against my cock and the mattress. And the sensation stopped. In fact, the rush kind of reversed itself, leaving an ecstatic glow behind it. For the next couple of nights, I continued pressing hard on my penis when I felt the rush. The rush itself – the beginning of an orgasm, of course – was wonderful but I felt there was some reason to stop anything coming from me. Then one night I couldn’t press hard enough to stop the rush and, for the first time, I felt semen squirting against my belly. The orgasm was the most intensely pleasurable physical sensation I had ever had in my life to that point. It still ranks in the top ten. Over several months, I learned to enjoy this new ability with my hands as well. Sometimes I would get home from school, go to my room and strip myself naked, and spend some time on my bed this way.
Enough of me for now. MacKenzie herself had begun to bloom at the age of twelve. Her figure remained slender and she was definitely petite, just over five feet tall and about 95 pounds now that she was fourteen, I’d say. Her hair was long and light brown and fluffy. She had large golden eyes and a high forehead, plus the perky little nose that goes so well with the innocent early-womanhood face. She had shown “bumps” in the last year and they were small but definite mounds by the time she was fourteen. I noticed that she now had significant lines under her tops, especially T-shirt tops or tank tops in summer. I also was watching her bottom as it took a rounder shape under her jeans or skirts. Sometimes I could even see suggestive lines around her waist or cupping her bottom where her panties pressed against her pants.
MacKenzie and I are both geniuses. I don’t mean the Wile E. Coyote brand, I mean the measured, diagnosed, brains-out-our-ears kind. We had come together in accelerated learning programs with a few other similarly gifted kids. Our parents, strangers to each other at the time, had selected homes only a few blocks apart in order that we could walk to school. Naturally, we fell into walking to and from school together. It would be hard to say what “grade” we were in in any year. We would actually begin college in a special program when we turned fifteen. So, as things happen, we turned fourteen just before the last year of the public school program. It was high summer and we were enjoying the vacation in our own way, which included enrichment programs on top of our accelerated studies.
And we went to the pool. My mother dropped us off at the public pool on a hot July afternoon. We went through our separate locker rooms and met on the deck. I came out as I went in, a skinny early-teen boy. MacKenzie had gone into the locker room as a somewhat gawky teen girl in shorts and a tank top, cute enough for me. But something happened in the locker room; an elfin goddess in a sky-blue bikini came over to me on the deck and said, “Hey, Rob, let’s get in the pool.”
There were a couple of hundred people around, ranging from boys and girls about four years old all the way to senior citizens. There were plenty of teenage girls there in various types of swimsuits. But they were all background haze: here was Venus at the age of fourteen, just emerged from the sea. Her hair floated on a breeze, her eyes twinkled, her smile weakened my legs. MacKenzie’s (or Venus’s) top was a simple halter over small, conical mounds with just a hint of nipple at the center of each. There were about ten acres of bare, smooth skin below MacKenzie’s halter top, every inch a delight to the eye. The area around MacKenzie’s navel was especially hard to look away from, although I did. Then my eyes slid down just a little and I could see the shape of MacKenzie’s hips. I could see her hip bones just above the waist band and the smooth triangle where her legs met. There was the slightest bulge just under the bikini material there. And then MacKenzie’s thighs below the bikini bottom, round and slender.
Somehow I managed to say, “Okay, let’s go,” and MacKenzie turned around to jump in the pool. Her halter top was just a pair of ties in back, at her neck and between her shoulders. If there were ten acres of beauty in front, there were probably twelve acres of beauty here. Her nearly-bare back swept wonderfully down to her bikini bottom. Her bottom stretched across two rounded shapes and down to her thighs. Then her slender rounded thighs below and nice legs right down to her dainty feet.
It was her bottom that really captured me. Everything was wonderful: breasts under her top, her tummy, her mysterious front under her bikini bottom, the whole landscape of her back. But her bottom and her legs were the crowning glory of blossoming beauty. I felt a lurch through my whole torso and in that moment I was ready to dedicate my life to she who had come out of the locker room so transformed.
I jumped in the water quickly enough to conceal (and to suppress) a hard-on that I would be embarrassed to let MacKenzie see. She dropped in beside me and the cool water produced a reaction I had hoped to see: her nipples became more pronounced under her bikini halter. MacKenzie glanced down and realized what she was showing, so she ducked down until only her chin was showing.
After that, the first spell was suspended for a while. Since we were fourteen-year-old geniuses, we could find ourselves acting any age from about ten years old to about twenty years old. We rang the changes quickly, often without warning or control. We spent an hour or two mostly at the ten-year-old end of the spectrum. We swam, we splashed, we raced if there was enough open water, we jumped off the diving board. I did a couple of dives but I think MacKenzie was concerned that she might lose her bikini bottom in a regular dive, so she just went feet first. At that, I saw her quickly adjusting her halter top underwater a couple of times before she surfaced.
And all around us were other swimmers. I noticed that some were teenage girls and young women, tanned and lithe and very nice-looking in their suits. But I always felt somehow disloyal if I looked at anyone except MacKenzie and I felt disappointed when I looked anywhere else. I was absolutely besotted by the looks of my elfin goddess, my great and good friend who had gone into that locker room just an ordinary teenager. Every time we climbed out of the pool to use the diving board, I was torn in two. I wanted to be behind her to see her lovely back and bottom. But I wanted to be in front so I could see her tummy, her small breasts and her triangle of mystery. And I especially liked to dive first and surface quickly enough to see her standing on the board, arms and breasts raised before she jumped off. This dilemma at least had the consolation that all views were delightful to me.
Eventually I saw my mother’s car pulling in front of the swimming pool and MacKenzie looked over at me. “I guess we’d better get going,” she said. “Yeah, Mom will want us to get out there,” I agreed. We dried off on the deck and went back to the changing rooms.
I emerged as I would have expected, looking a little more gawky because my clothes were loose. Plus my hair was kind of unruly. MacKenzie emerged as the slightly gawky girl who had gone in, cute enough for anyone. I knew better now, though. I knew that my goddess was just under that T-shirt and those cut-off denim shorts that were really kind of loose on her. I knew because I could see enough of MacKenzie’s legs to recognize the goddess hidden in the clothes.
From that time forward, MacKenzie became She Who Must Be Obeyed to me. She may have realized at once or it may have taken a little while, but her wish or whim became my dream. If she needed or wanted anything in my power, it was hers. I helped her with her yard work sometimes. I was always ready to fall into any activity that might please her – scooter riding, games, walking in the woods near our homes. I’m sure my parents recognized how moon-struck I was and I imagine MacKenzie’s parents did too. I bet they found it amusing, in fact.
I was bemused rather than amused. I was almost drunk with MacKenzie’s presence. MacKenzie was cute and appealing rather than “beautiful” but I had decided that she was the all-in-all of blossoming womanhood. MacKenzie was also sweet and fun-loving, so being her slave – a status she says she didn’t know I had adopted – was a joy and no burden.
Except, of course, for a few minor things. Thing 1: I wanted to see my goddess in her swimsuit as much as I could. Thing 2: I wanted my goddess to know what she was to me. Thing 3: I wanted to see my goddess without her suit, shining in only her own loveliness. I was dying to see her naked. And Thing 4: I was utterly terrified to say anything about this to MacKenzie.
So we went to the pool as often as I could get one of our mothers to take us. Each time the changing room worked its magic. MacKenzie went in and my goddess came out. Each time the magic flowed the other way; my goddess left the pool deck and MacKenzie came out of the changing room. But the spell was too powerful, my idolatry too complete for me to be fooled by the transformation that hid my goddess from the rest of the world.
Sometimes our mothers were too busy for a ride to the pool. Sometimes MacKenzie would come over in her Goddess Bikini with a towel wrapped around her. I’d turn on the sprinklers in the back yard and we would run under them or we’d throw a ball around. Then I’d shut them off and we would dry off on mats on the porch. These visits were actually better than the pool because I had my goddess to myself. Only my eyes were there to worship at the shrine.
 The school year came around. We had most of our classes together, including orchestra. We also played in a community group, sometimes as a duet and sometimes as part of a chamber group. As always, we spent most the time after school at my house or at the Temple of MacKenzie, which was how I wrote about her house in my diary. Or that in my diary she was either She Who Must Be Obeyed or just the Goddess. There were also notes in my diary about the vision of her body, the shapeliness of all that was her, and sometimes a word or two about my own development. Even my diary didn’t record my favorite visions of her, in her panties and her bra or sometimes naked in my mind, and how I would play with myself for long periods while thinking of her.
MacKenzie and I had Health Enhancement together. That meant that one week we would have PE activities, which we both rather disliked, and the next week we would have health classes. We disliked PE because neither of us liked team sports like basketball or dodge ball. We preferred sports like badminton or tennis. But we did like seeing each other during the period and I liked seeing MacKenzie in her gym shorts and T-shirt.
We were working on a health assignment one Saturday afternoon in October. We were at the Temple of MacKenzie and the temple guards were at an antique auction in another city, due back early that evening. This particular health assignment was about anatomy and it was child’s play. Actually, it turned out it was adolescents’ play but that’s the point…
We had labeled the anatomical drawings for a while. We had gone over the pelvis drawings earlier and we were on the thorax drawings. MacKenzie looked at the skeleton diagram and she said, “You know, men are supposed to have one less rib than women. Because of Adam and Eve, you know.”
“Oh, that’s just a story,” I said. “There’s no label in the drawing to say there’s any difference.”
“They might have missed something,” said MacKenzie.
“Your mom has an anatomy book,” I said. “Let’s take a look.” We found the book in the living room and there was a picture of the skeleton but nothing about a difference in ribs.
“Well, we’ll have to count,” said MacKenzie. “We have to sort this out.” We’re both Americans unto many generations, but we use British-isms and other language tricks sometimes.
“What do you mean, count?” I asked.
“We’re going to count your ribs,” MacKenzie said. Of course I had to agree with my goddess. She put her finger on my T-shirt, at my collarbone, and started counting each rib. But she kept losing count. “Take off your shirt,” she said imperiously.
“Look, we spent most of the summer by the pool or out back. You should remember my ribs.”
“I didn’t count them,” she said. “Have you ever counted your ribs?”
“No,” I said.
“So take off your shirt and we’ll count them now.” I could only obey. I think MacKenzie was oblivious to how excited I was feeling as she pulled my shirt over my head but she should have known. And maybe she did and just kept it to herself.
I sat in my chair and we worked our way down my right side. “There are twelve on this side,” said MacKenzie and I agreed. “But we have to count the other side, because there’s supposed to be one less rib on one side or the other.” Then she went down the other side and I stifled a giggle because it tickled a little. “You made me lose count again,” my goddess said and started over. I kept quiet the next time she counted but somehow she lost count again. Twice, in fact. By the time we could agree that I had twelve ribs on my left side too, MacKenzie and I were both giggling. I wound up bare-chested on the seat, looking at MacKenzie. Did I dare? Did she?
“That’s what the diagram shows,” I said, and MacKenzie agreed. “But maybe that’s a male chest,” I said. My goddess looked at me and her eyes got big.
“Maybe it is,” she said.
“So we have to count your ribs,” I said. “You’re the only female available.”
I tried – somewhat honestly, I tried – to count MacKenzie’s ribs over her T-shirt. But MacKenzie turned out to be much more ticklish than I am and we kept losing count. “There’s only one thing to do,” I said.
“What’s that?” she asked. 
“Well, we took off my shirt to count my ribs and we finally agreed. So I guess we’ll have to take off your shirt too.” And with that I put my hands at her waist and took the hem of her shirt in my hands.
If my goddess had kept her hands down, I would surely have stopped. But She Who Must Be Obeyed raised her arms and I lifted the cotton T-shirt up and over her head, turning it inside out.
I was very glad to be sitting because I would have fallen. MacKenzie shook her head a moment to fluff her hair and I was falling into the sight of her bra over her breasts. It was a light pink bra with a tiny bow between the tiny breasts. MacKenzie had a little gooseflesh on her arms and she was blushing right down to the pink cotton that covered her secrets, that hid them from me.
“This presents some problems,” I said when I could talk and MacKenzie smiled as she stood before me. She had kind of low gym shorts on, a couple of inches below her navel which seemed to me to be glowing with beauty. “Your – um – anatomy is different from mine. You’d better try to count.”
So she did, but she had trouble getting her index finer into a good position to find each rib. So I started at her right collarbone and I counted carefully down to her bra. Then I came around under her arm so I wouldn’t trespass directly across her breast. But her ticklishness kicked in as I went under her raised arm and there was another issue.
“MacKenzie, you’ve got to hold still. And it’s hard to feel your ribs properly anyway.” I thought that would be the end of it and a wonderful end it would be. But I underestimated my goddess.
MacKenzie brought her arms down around my back so we were in a hug. Eagerly I put my arms around her back, pulling her softness against my bare chest. And she gave my lips a short press with her lips.
“Rob, if my bra makes it too hard to count, you’ll just have to take it off,” she said. I heard her say it clearly but I was flabbergasted. Then MacKenzie brushed her lips against mine again and whispered in my ear, “It’s for science. If you put your hands between my shoulders, you’ll find the hooks. It will be more fun if you do it than if I do.”
My goddess had spoken. She had spoken twice. I could only obey what my heart wanted to do.
So I groped behind MacKenzie’s back for a moment and I found the hooks of her bra. There were only two of them but MacKenzie kept squirming against my chest and it took longer than I would have guessed to open the back of her bra. Once I paused and said, “Do you want me to stop?” But MacKenzie answered, “Did I say to stop?” and I finally got it open. Then MacKenzie pulled back and I pulled her bra forward, letting it fall onto my lap.
“There we go,” MacKenzie said as she pulled back more fully. “Now science can advance.”
And science did advance but rather slowly. We had even more trouble with tickles without the bra and I was scrupulous to count only along the side of my goddess, not down her breast. Finally, we agreed that there were actually twelve ribs on her right side.
“But now we have to count the left side,” MacKenzie demanded. That took even longer because MacKenzie would turn so that her breast was under my finger and I would have to shift or start the count again. In the end, we agreed that she, too, had twelve ribs on each side and the drawing was correct after all.
MacKenzie was shuffling through the other drawings in our assignment. She had gotten the drawing of the leg and foot and now my goddess said, “We’d better check this out too.” She was wearing strap sandals and she quickly took them off, then she pointed at my feet. “You’d better take off your shoes, too,” she said. “Because the drawing might be of a male foot or a female foot.” So I took my shoes off as well and we carefully examined each other’s feet. “I have to use your foot,” my goddess said, “because I can reach your leg better than my own.” She went very thoroughly up my foot and lower leg, as far as my shorts would let her. Then she insisted that I should check her feet and legs just as carefully.
MacKenzie’s shorts were much smaller than mine, coming only a couple of inches down her thigh. We were still each bare to the waist as well. Fortunately my hard-on was concealed under my pants, although MacKenzie had reason to be suspicious as she looked at my leg. But she didn’t focus on anything or say anything.
When my goddess was satisfied with our study of the leg, she found the drawing of the arm and shoulder. “We need to know this too,” she said. We had done our study of the leg by kneeling on the floor in turn, with our partner first sitting on a chair and then standing to see how the knee and thigh worked. And I, at least, was actually learning something by gently feeling the play of bone, muscle and ligament under the smooth skin of She Who Must Be Obeyed. Now we were sitting on chairs and facing each other, MacKenzie still gloriously bare to the waist. She went over my shoulder and collarbone, then along the arm and wrist until she had felt each finger in turn. It probably took half an hour or more, a delicious time in which we spoke as if we were only studying anatomy and I relished every moment of her soft, small hand against my skin.
MacKenzie insisted (as if she needed to insist) that I conduct a similarly thorough exploration of her shoulder and arm. I must believe that she knew it included a thorough contemplation of her lovely bare breasts as well. They were small, as I said, about the size of tangerines. They were so smooth as to dazzle my eyes except for the small, pink area at the tip of each beautiful mound. And in the center of each aureole was her small, darker nipple that stood stiffly in the cool air.
When we finished with the arms, MacKenzie surprised me by getting a stethoscope from a drawer. This was no “play doctor” kit stethoscope; it was a professional model. “I’ve had this for years,” she said. “I’ve listened to my dad and my mom sometimes.” She put the earpieces in her ears and carefully listened to my chest, back and front. She even put the earpieces into my ears at times so I could hear my own breathing.  “Here’s your heart,” she said. “It’s saying ‘love her, love her’, it sounds to me.” And a sly wink followed.
“Now you have to listen to my lungs and my heart,” MacKenzie said. I got her to sit on my lap while I listened to the back of her chest for several minutes. But my goddess intended to do it properly. She took my hand with the bell and placed it high on the front of her chest so that my finger brushed her left nipple and breast, then again on the right side. MacKenzie’s eyes got bigger again and her nipples pushed against my fingers. Finally she gently took the scope out of my hand and pressed my fingers to her breast openly.
We breathed hard for several minutes before I realized MacKenzie was shuffling the drawings again. “Here it is,” she said, and I saw that she had the abdominal drawing on top now. “The best way to do this is lying down,” she said.
“We can use the floor,” I suggested.
“That’s silly, the floor is too stiff,” she said. “I have a perfectly good bed.” She took my hand and led me, as if in a haze, to her room up the hall. She pushed me down on the bed and knelt beside it. Then she produced the scope again. “I’ve read that you should listen before you touch the abdomen,” she said, and suited the action to the word. She listened for a few minutes, then gently pressed on my stomach several times. “Yes, that all feels about right,” she said. “Now get up and I’ll lie down.”
My goddess lying on the bed. It was like an offering on an altar. I knelt beside her as she lay there in a pair of blue shorts, still bare-breasted and delightful beyond words that I could even form in my mind. I did listen to her abdomen and to her heart again and I had the great privilege of running my bare hands over her warm, smooth stomach.
When I was done, MacKenzie sat up on the bed and pulled me to my feet. “I only got to do part of your leg,” she said petulantly. “You got to work up my leg to my thigh but your shorts are too long for me to do that.” I probably gaped at her. I certainly missed her meaning on the first try. “So you have to take off your shorts so I can finish that part of the exam,” she said, as if I should have figured it out already.
I could only obey except that I didn’t have to. MacKenzie was already pulling the snap my shorts and pulling down the zipper. I helped enough to get in the way as she pulled my shorts down and I got out of them. I was wearing a pair of dark jockey shorts but there was my erection was too obvious to deny. And the drop that had appeared near my waist band at the tip of my penis.
MacKenzie was all business at this point, or at least she made a good act of it. She knelt on the floor by the bed and worked her hands up my leg and thigh. But when she touched my bottom and then the front of my underpants, making contact with my penis, we both looked at each other and jumped a little.
“Sit down here,” my goddess said firmly and placed me on her bed. She left for a few moments and I was delighted and bewildered by the sight of her back as she left the room. She was glorious from foot to head, covered only by her blue shorts and that wasn’t much. MacKenzie was back quickly with two drawings in her hand. I was pretty sure what they were.
“Yes, this one is supposed to be you and this one is me,” she said as she checked them. She put them on the dresser, propped against the mirror, and they were the reproductive systems. Male. Female.
“You’re almost ready so we’ll do you first,” MacKenzie said. She pulled me to my feet and, before I could make a protest that I wouldn’t have made anyway, she pulled the waist band of my underpants down and released the head of my penis. She continued, carefully negotiating past my full-sized erection and down my thighs to expose my scrotum as well. When she got to my feet, I slipped them out of my underpants and stood naked for her.
“Yes, a lot like the drawing but much nicer,” my goddess pronounced. “The penis in the drawing is just hanging there and yours is much better like this. I can feel it pulsing a little when I squeeze on it. And this drop at the end.” I was both exhilarated and embarrassed. “That must be a bit of semen.”
“Yes,” I said in a cracking voice.
“Can you make more of it come out? Oh, I know you can.” MacKenzie was still gently feeling my cock and my balls as well.
“If you want me to,” I said.
“I do, but in a little while,” said my goddess. “Rob, I’m not going to have sex with you today. I think I’m going to make love with you sometime soon, but not today. I do want to see you come. But now I want you to turn around.” I did and I felt MacKenzie gently stroking and feeling around on my bottom. Finally she turned me around to face her again. She explored my cock and my balls again for a few minutes and finished by touching her lips to the head of my penis.
I could barely speak but I managed to say, “We have another drawing to work on, I think.”
“That’s right,” my goddess smiled at me. She stood up from where she was kneeling on the floor and gently pushed me down to my knees. She put her hands on the waist band of her shorts but I took it instead with both hands and I pulled them down carefully. I wanted to be sure I left her panties in place because I wanted to see them on her. They were soft pink, probably purchased with the bra, and they were more decoration by now than covering.
After MacKenzie stepped out of her shorts, I ever so gently pulled her panties down off her bottom in back, then in front. I brought them all the way down to the floor as slowly as I could manage and she stepped out of them. I kissed her navel and caressed her bottom and onto her thighs. I brushed my fingers across the incredibly soft, smooth skin of her mons. She had no hair at all yet. Then I gently explored between her legs on her bare vagina. I even put my fingers along her vaginal lips and touched my mouth to them.
“I think I can help a little more,” my goddess said. She pulled me to my feet and against her in a naked hug and we kissed for a while. Then she sat on the bed and leaned back on her elbows, opening her legs. “Now you can examine me as carefully as I did you,” she said.
In fact, I got to be a little more thorough. By the time I had looked at her vagina and explored it, my goddess had rewarded my adoration with a few gasps, squeezing my fingers between her thighs. “That was good,” she breathed. “I like to play with myself and that was even better.” I took my fingers out and she caught her breath. Then MacKenzie got up and said, “I’ll be just a moment. Stay here.” I watched my bare goddess walk away and could see only the swing of her wonderful bottom.
When MacKenzie came back, I enjoyed staring at her naked front as well. Her breasts were high and small and her bare pubic area was mesmerizing. Her vagina was glittering with dampness. After a minute, I saw MacKenzie had a small towel with her. “I know about how boys play with themselves,” she said. “So I want to watch you.” My goddess giggled a moment. “Maybe even help you. But you can use this so we don’t leave a mess.”
I could only obey. MacKenzie sat on the bed with her legs crossed, naked as a needle, her pouting vagina lips very open for me to see. I knelt in front of her, my best hard-on to the fore, and I stroked my penis. Of course it only took a few strokes and I had a trembling, earth-moving type of orgasm. As I was getting close, my goddess had put her fingers into herself and I saw that she too had come to a crashing experience.
The last few minutes of that visit were kind of a let down. After such an intense, glorious experience – with a tantalizing likelihood of more and some day better to come – it felt a little silly to be tidying up, to be getting dressed and finishing the assignments. But my goddess had acknowledged me, had granted all my dreams and shown me that more dreams could follow. She shared a kiss with me before I left, wet and warm and wonderful. I guess I must have walked home from the Temple but it seemed like I levitated.
The next day, Sunday, was warm for the season. After church and lunch, I went over to my real church. “Hi, Rob,” my goddess said. “Hey, let’s take our scooters to the woods.”
“Okay,” I said. “We’ll have to go back by my house but I need to tell my mom where we’re going anyway.” I walked at my goddess’s side back to my house, checked in with headquarters, and got my own helmet and scooter.
We rode over to the patch of woods near the creek by our houses. When we got there, we took off our helmets and folded the scooters so we could walk on our favorite path. Half a mile or so under the trees we came to a clearing we knew well. I sat under a tree and MacKenzie sat between my thighs, her back against my chest, and pulled my arms around her. I sighed as deeply as any priest in prayerful ecstasy.
“I want to talk a little about yesterday,” my goddess began.
“I can hardly believe yesterday happened,” I said suddenly. “It was wonderful.”
“It was very good for me, too,” said my goddess. “You see, I love you and I know you love me.”
“I just figured it out this summer,” I said.
“The bikini? Yeah, I could see it in your eyes. All summer long. I’ve always liked you. Mom helped me pick that suit out and we laughed because we thought it would open your eyes. It did, too!” She giggled, ten years old for a moment. “I could feel your eyes on me all the time and I liked looking at you too. Oh, you’ll get better in a couple of years, but I like you now.”
“How could you be any better-looking?” I asked. So she had been looking at me? Was I a god to my own goddess? She was still talking.
“So I started looking for a chance to see all of you. I wanted to look at you, to see you naked. And I wanted you to see me naked too. I wanted to feel your eyes on me when you could see all of me. I wanted to see your penis and I wanted to show you my vagina.” My eyes were losing focus but I could hear very well. I could also see MacKenzie’s eyes looking into mine as she brought my hands up to her breasts. I brushed them with my fingers as she settled back against my chest.
“And it was everything I wanted it to be, Rob. How about for you?”
“Oh, MacKenzie, I thought I was going to die.” 
She giggled some more. “I wondered if I was going to have to get you dressed while I called for paramedics,” she said. “I could feel your heart whenever I touched you. And your face was so red! But it was your eyes. I could feel your eyes like mouths on me, you were looking so hard. It was so great to feel that way, to think about how you were looking at my breasts and my pussy.” My goddess put her hands under her shirt with mine and between us we got her bra out of the way so I could hold her nipples and play with them.
“There are some other things I want to tell you about. First, I talk to my mom about everything. Everything.”
“So your mom knows about…about yesterday?”
“She sure does. I sat on her lap and told her about it as soon as she got home. Mom has always talked to me about sex and about love and about you. Mom taught me about how to play with myself and she always told me that it was a good thing. That sex is a good thing from God and touching myself was part of learning about sex. So I told her about how I wanted to see you naked and how we took our clothes off for each other. I left out a couple of things.”
“And she’s okay with it?”
“Well, we have to talk about that. She’ll keep my dad okay with it. I bet she told him about it last night. My mom and dad get really horny and I bet that helped them. Anyway, my mom didn’t freak out or anything. She did say that there are some things she wants me to do, or not do. And you’re going to go along with her because it’s what I want.”
“I would do anything I can if you want,” I whispered.
My goddess giggled. “I bet you would. You know, I would do anything for you too. And that’s why we’re going to talk about what my mom said. I made her a promise and you’re part of the promise.”
“She wants us to keep our clothes on,” I sighed. You know my heart sank like the Titanic.
“I thought she might say something like that but she didn’t,” MacKenzie said. My heart soared. Much higher than any eagle. “What she did say was that she thinks I’m too young to have sex. That my body is still changing inside. And this is no time to get sick or have a baby, too.”
“Your mom is right about all that. Of course she is.” If her mother was on my side, she was right about anything. Her mother could say the earth was flat and I’d agree with her.
“And mom said that sex is an awfully big step. You’re never really a kid after you start having sex, she says. But she said there are some games and things that will be okay before we’re ready for sex. So I promised we would wait to have sex until I’m sixteen. Not real sex and not oral sex. And mom said it would be okay if we look at each other and if we touch each other. We can kiss all we want.” And then my goddess did kiss me, tongues and all, for a year and a day.
Okay, for maybe two minutes. Time is sooo subjective.
My goddess was speaking again and I had to focus. “…breaking a promise because I said I thought we were going to make love soon. But I don’t think I really promised that, did I?”
“You just said you thought we would make love soon. And even if it was a promise, your promise to your mom would be more important.”
MacKenzie sighed and wiggled a little against my chest. “I’m glad you feel that way. It would be awfully hard to break in a new boy so he was like you. Anyway, Mom says it’s okay if we play together as long as we keep to her rules. We can look at each other and we can show off for each other and we can touch each other. We can touch each other all over. Just not sex.”
Which, in a way, was a relief. “We’ll do it your way,” I said. “But I don’t think I can have this little conversation with my parents.”
MacKenzie giggled again and I kissed her some more. “No, I don’t think so,” she said. “Something else my mom said. She said that we have to be careful if we play with ourselves together because sometimes semen can get into a vagina. By finger-touching or things like that. So we have to be careful about that. And she said that if we lie down together, we should have our underpants on. Because otherwise your penis and my vagina are just too damn close, she says.”
“Or too far apart,” I said, and my goddess giggled. “We’ll do it your way, always,” I said. And then we did lie down together. Even if we had to keep our clothes on, it was delightful to bathe in the presence of my goddess.
MacKenzie and I knew each other well and read each other’s actions and wishes pretty well most of the time. Since we studied together often, and since the Temple Guards trusted MacKenzie completely (whether or not they quite trusted me), we found ourselves alone at the Temple from time to time, or occasionally at my house. We were alone in my house one time and finished our assignment. I went from the dining room table, where our books and notes were scattered, and sat on our couch. MacKenzie followed a moment later and curled up against me. Of course we began kissing. I found myself lying under my goddess as she kissed me thoroughly. I hugged her to me and rubbed her back. Then she said, “Did you notice what I’m wearing?”
“You’re wearing your denim skirt and a sweater,” I said.
“Yes, and I’m all over on top of you. Do you know how easily you could pull my skirt up? I bet you could have it way up over my panties before I noticed what you were doing.”
“I wonder if I could,” I said, and I passed my hands along her back to the hem of her skirt. Then I slowly lifted her skirt hem along her smooth thighs and to her waist.
“H”m,” my goddess said, “something is going on. But I don’t really know what.”
I put my hands on her panties and rubbed softly. “Oh,” MacKenzie giggled. “Why, someone has lifted my skirt. And is putting hands on my bottom.” She sighed and put her head on my chest while I played with the soft-firm globes of her lovely bottom. I loved rubbing the cotton around on her smooth skin. “I wonder how long it would take you to react if I pulled your panties down,” I speculated.
“I don’t know,” my goddess said. “You should find out.”
It turned out that it took quite a while. I slipped her panties down gleefully and she didn’t try to pull them up for ten minutes or more.
This became a regular pattern. We would often sit on the couch at the Temple or at my house and watch TV or read together. If MacKenzie was wearing a skirt, and the Temple Guards were out of sight, I was to play with her bottom and her panties. Sometimes MacKenzie would lie on her stomach or on her side and I would rub her back, her legs and her bottom. Sometimes she would lie on her back and I would gently stroke her breasts and her tummy, eventually caressing her thighs and her pubic area. Many times I would ease her panties down and stroke her nakedness to our mutual joy. On rare occasions, I would play with myself to orgasm for her, or she for me. I would sometimes caress her vagina and she would caress my penis, but one of us always had underpants on.
Our new psychology class had finally given us some real challenges. All the math and empirical science we’d had up to now had been pretty easy: understand principles, memorize facts and theorems, apply the rules and the math. For polymaths like my goddess and me, this was simple enough. Even foreign languages were easy for us and we could carry on a semi-secret conversation in German or French. Psychology was another matter. Math counted for nothing and principles were much less solid as they were in other sciences. So much of it was anecdotal; we could read and remember the anecdotes quickly enough but they were harder to fix and apply.
MacKenzie and I were working on a chapter on family relationships at the Temple on a snowy Saturday afternoon when the Temple Guard announced, “I’m going to be gone for a while. I need some things at the craft store for Christmas ornaments. Mac, do you need anything?”
“No, mom,” she answered and nudged my knee with hers under the table. “But may Rob help us make the ornaments later?”
“Probably tomorrow afternoon, sweetheart,” said the Guard, who really did like me. “I’ll probably get home just in time to make dinner and your dad will be hungry after cutting wood in the hills all day.” She took her car keys and left us alone.
MacKenzie turned to a page in the back of the family chapter and pointed to the heading: Discipline. She read, “’Many families have problems with maintaining discipline. In some families, methods of maintaining good family order become confused with methods of domination. Most families have a hard time finding an appropriate balance of individual expression and family order and structure.’” She frowned at me. “That doesn’t really sound like our families to me, Rob. I’ve always known that my parents are in charge. But then it’s hard to get away with anything if you’re an only child.”
“That’s true,” I answered. “My parents knew that I must have done anything like break a window or something. So I always got punished.”
My goddess was looking down the page. “’Methods of discipline common in families. Withholding of affection. Withdrawing privileges. Extra chores.’ Yes, mom and dad have done all those with me. How about you?”
“Yes, and grounding too. That would be the worst thing now, if I got grounded and couldn’t see you for a week except at school. Two years ago, grounding wasn’t much use for me. But now all Mom has to do is say, ‘Could you go three days without MacKenzie?’ and I’ll do anything.”
“H’m, three days. I guess your mom thinks you’ll die if you suffer MacKenzie-separation.”
“Three days without my goddess except at school? What if it was a weekend and I didn’t even get to see you at school? I’d waste away like a man lost in the desert.”
“I’d have to sneak over for a few minutes at your window, at least. I would have to save you from such a terrible fate.” My goddess stroked my arm and smiled at me.
“Now here’s something barbaric,” she said as she looked down the page. “Spanking. I’ve always heard about spanking but I don’t know anything about it. The most my dad has ever done is to whack my wrist. And he seems almost scared even to do that.”
“My folks don’t use spanking either. At least, it’s been a long time now.” MacKenzie looked at me with a speculative eye that I am always thrilled – and sometimes worried – to see.
“So you’ve been on the business end of a spanking. Did it hurt? How did your dad do it?”
I swallowed hard but I could only obey this command to tell her. “Well, actually, both of my parents have spanked me. Usually over their knees. Sometimes just on my pants, sometimes with my pants down.” MacKenzie was listening to me even as she perused the book further.
“I’ve heard girls say they got spanked on their bare butts too,” she said. “I heard it a lot more in grade school than I have this year.”
“Most parents seem to stop spanking when kids get to be teenagers,” I said. “Maybe because they get to be too hard to pin down when they’re bigger.”
“So tell me. Did it hurt? Did they pull your underpants down?” She was very eager to hear about it.
“Yeah, it hurt. It stings pretty bad when you get a spanking when they mean it. But my parents never pulled my underpants down to spank me.”
“Did it hurt a lot? Did you squirm or try to put your hands up? That’s what I’ve heard some girls talk about. Did it make you cry?”
“It hurt a lot sometimes. Sometimes they weren’t as mad and they didn’t spank as hard. A couple of times I tried to put my hands up but I always got more spankings when I did that. So I learned to just let it happen. Yeah, it used to make me cry.”
“This chapter is about family relationships and discipline. It’s different from anatomy but there are things we should learn about this.”
“What do you mean, things to learn about this?” I asked. I had an idea but did she really want to…?
Yes, she did. “I want to learn what a spanking is like. And you should learn what a bare-bottom spanking is like. So we’ll have to do some experiments.” MacKenzie looked around the room a minute. “Here, we’ll try this first,” she said, and took me over to the couch.
My goddess draped herself over the arm of the couch so her butt was raised. Her upper body was on the couch and her feet were just off of the floor. She was wearing jeans and a sweater and socks. I could see her panty lines against the jeans from the way she was stretched out. “Okay,” she said. “Spank me a couple of times.”
I couldn’t possibly swat my goddess, but I had to obey her as well. Finally, I raised my hand and patted her jeans pockets three times.
“That’s not a spanking, that’s a patting,” she said. “You have to do it more like you mean it.” So I gave her two harder spanks. Then she stood up.
“Let’s have you try it and let me see what I can do,” MacKenzie said. So I lay over the arm of the couch just like she had. MacKenzie meant business; she gave me five sharp spanks and I made a noise.
“That’s what I expected,” MacKenzie said. She pulled me up and took her position again. “Like you mean it, Rob.”
Steeling myself to the task, I gave her three spanks about as hard as I thought my parents might use. She squealed a little each time and then got up. We stood next to the couch and she was blushing and breathing rather hard.
“H’m,” she said. “That did sting some. But it was kind of exciting too. Maybe the pressure on the abdomen. But I could feel it in my breasts and between my legs. Look at my nipples!”
I did look and her nipples were quite tall and tight. “I don’t know,” I said. “I didn’t react quite like that.”
“I think you might before we’re done. You said your parents sometimes pulled your pants down. So you have to pull my pants down.”
“Shouldn’t you do that?” I asked. Although I had pulled her pants down a number of times before.
“It’s about submission, I think. I want you to pull them down because that’s what a spanker would do.”
I was always glad to have a chance to pull down MacKenzie’s pants, so I unsnapped her jeans and I unzipped them. She was wearing white bikini panties under her jeans. I pulled her jeans down to mid-thigh and she bent over the arm of the couch again.
I had seen MacKenzie’s panties many times but not like this. She was smiling at me as I knelt beside her, her bottom raised and her panties stretched tighter than I had ever seen them before. “Remember,” my goddess said. “Like you mean it.”
I raised my hand and I gave her three smacks, about the same as I had before. My goddess squealed again, each time that I spanked her, but her smile was still shining on me.
“Okay,” she said, getting up and putting her pants back together, “I know what that’s like. Now I’m going to pull down your pants and we’ll see what you think from that end.” I stood submissively while MacKenzie opened up my pants and tugged them down. She gently pushed me into the position, knelt beside me and had at my bottom.
She put more sting into it this time and I yipped a small protest each time. After five smacks, MacKenzie stopped and pulled me up again. She pulled my pants back up herself and then gave me a lingering kiss.
“Okay, we know about spanking on underpants. Now we have to learn about spanking on bare butt.”
“I don’t want to hurt you again,” I said.
“It’s all part of learning. You wait out here for a couple of minutes. I’m going into my room and I’m going to call you in just a minute.”
I sat on the couch and watched my goddess go up the hall to the Holy of Holies, the room where we worshiped each other’s bodies. MacKenzie closed the door and I could hear her moving around but I didn’t know what she was doing. Then she said, “Come on in.”
I opened her door and saw her sitting on the bed. She had put her sleeping shirt over her little white panties. I could just see a little bit of panty showing between her lovely thighs. I could see that she had taken off her bra because I could see her nipples poking through the shirt’s thin material.
“Here’s what I want you to do,” said MacKenzie. “I’m going to spank you on your bare bottom and then you’ll spank me. I want to take off your shirt and your pants first, though.”
In the Holy of Holies I would always do her bidding. I shucked off my shoes. MacKenzie pulled my shirt over my head and pulled my jeans down so I was wearing only my briefs. Which happened to be white, just like her panties. MacKenzie patted her lap and then she pulled me over her bare thighs. I knew she could feel my erection against her bare leg and I knew she liked it. My goddess pulled down on my waist band and I felt cool air across my bare butt. MacKenzie laid her hand on my bare skin for a few moments, then spanked me sharply several times. I tried to keep quiet but I finally had to yip a little.
When she pulled my underpants back up, I stood up and she smiled at me. “But Rob, listen. I want you to give me a harder spanking than you did on the couch. I want you to make me cry.”
“Are you sure?” I could hardly form the thought of making MacKenzie cry. Could I possibly do it?
“Yes, I’m sure,” she said. “It’s part of what spanking is all about. You have to pull me over like a parent would, and pull my panties down, and spank me hard.” She stood up and pushed me down on the bed. I pulled her over my lap and looked at her wonderful body lying there. Her panties just showed under the sleeping shirt, small and white and sweet. Her waist was against mine and pressed my hard-on into my stomach. I patted her bottom over her shirt a couple of times and then I raised it to get to her panties. I pulled them down and worshiped her bare bottom for a few moments. “Ready?” I asked.
“Yes, go ahead,” she said. So, gritting my teeth, I slapped her bottom hard. Then I did it again and continued, about a dozen sincere swats.
MacKenzie began crying after that, but when I paused she managed to say, “Keep spanking. Hard.” I had never meant to really hurt her, of course, but she was so insistent. After about five more swats, she sobbed, “That’s enough. Please.” I pulled her panties up at once and turned her over in my lap. I was so shocked that I had even lost my hard-on. I cuddled her softly and pulled her head against my bare chest. After my goddess cried for a few moments, she sniffed and kissed me.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I just didn’t know it would feel like that. It stung but I started crying because it felt good. I got wet between my legs. See?” She opened her thighs, there in my lap, and I could see that the crotch of her panties was damp.
MacKenzie put her face against my chest, her soft hair damp from her tears. Her voice was still shaky as she said, “I want to tell you what I was doing. I came in and I took off all my clothes except my panties. The whole time I was taking off my shirt and my bra, I was thinking that you were going to be on my lap and I would get to smack your bare bottom. The whole time I was taking off my pants and putting on my nightshirt, I was thinking that you would be holding me on your lap and you were going to smack my bare bottom. And it was so good that I pulled my panties down for a moment to play with myself before I called you in. And then I got to hold you like a little boy and spank you and I really loved it.
“I was kind of scared when you pulled me over your lap but I was very excited. I got even more excited when you pulled my panties down, just like I wanted you to. But you did hurt my bottom. I know you wanted to stop but I wanted to know what it really felt like, so I made you keep spanking me. And then I came while I was crying.”
My goddess had more suprises in store for me. MacKenzie squirmed back onto her tummy on my lap. “Now, I want you to do a play spanking. I want you to pat my panties for a while but don’t really swat me. Okay?”
Okay? Ecstasy! I patted her softly on her bottom, probably a hundred times, as she squirmed happily in my lap. She giggled now, working her side against my returning erection. “I can feel your hard-on here,” she said.
“Now pull my panties down again,” she gasped between giggles. “Play spank my bare bottom now.”
I pulled her panties down slowly this time. Her bottom was pink and it was more beautiful than ever. I patted her bare bottom for a long, long time as she squirmed and giggled more. I stroked her between her thighs and I even put my fingers down under her panties to touch her vagina lips.
MacKenzie got more and more excited as I played with her bottom. At last she said, “Take my panties all the way off, please, Rob.” I worked her little white panties down and off her feet. Then my goddess squirmed around onto her back again and sat up. She pulled her top off and I kissed her breasts for a minute or two.
“Now kiss my breasts some more, but play with my pussy too,” MacKenzie said. She put her arms around me as I kissed her nipples and gently tugged them with my teeth. I had eased my fingers inside her vagina and found a spot I knew she liked, gently and rapidly rubbing her clitoris until she have a squealing sigh and relaxed against me.
“Now your turn,” she said. My goddess got off my lap and made me stand up so she could pull my underpants all the way off. Then she played with my penis and scrotum, finally stroking my penis until she saw I was about to get off. “Here it is,” she said, and quickly got a towel she had put under her bed. I used that to finish and to clean up a bit.
Then we put our underpants back on and I put on my jeans while MacKenzie put on her sleeping shirt. We lay together on her small bed, her head on my shoulder and my hand on her panty-covered bottom. We dozed off that way, waking an hour or so later, and I was rewarded with a kiss before I finished dressing and left.
And so ended another session at the Temple of MacKenzie.
There were many exploring trips in those years of our promise to MacKenzie’s parents. I remember a lot of them very fondly, the excitement of seeing each other and touching each other. We had a lot to do besides our sexual explorations, so we only had such adventures once a month or so. 
Part of our Challenge program the next year was sketching and artwork. I have always been a little ham-fisted with a pencil and my drawing was never more than adequate. MacKenzie, it turned out, had a flair for drawing. She had drawn on her own from a very young age and the classes gave her sketch work a new level of realism. She also learned to start with what she saw and embellish or emphasize whatever she wanted to. She was genuinely skilled and imaginitive, which surprised no one.
I remain only a barely adequate artist with drawing tools but I can get a reasonable picture, if I’m given enough time. Of course this was an area that my goddess and I worked on side-by-side often. Whenever we were sketching and there were Temple Guards in the house, my goddess would glance at me with her speculative look. I’ve always wondered why MacKenzie’s parents left that one Friday evening and I’ve wondered if MacKenzie had set it up. Anyway, we were sharing a pizza after her parents left and MacKenzie said, “I want to sketch your profile.”
“Again?” I asked. She had sketched me several times and it was rather flattering. It was just a little inconvenient to hold still for several minutes but my goddess’s whim was enough. “Yes, again,” she said, maybe a little annoyed with me.
I sat on a dining room chair in front of MacKenzie as she walked around me, sketching and muttering a little. Then she said, “And now I want to sketch your upper body.” We hadn’t done this before, all sketching being from still life or nature or just each other’s faces. I was about to take off my sweatshirt when MacKenzie got there first, pulling it over my head and pulling me into a kiss and a hug. “It’s been a long time since I got your shirt off,” she said.
“Am I going to sketch your upper body, too?” I asked.
“Well, I’ll pose for you, but let’s face it, Rob. If you sketch my upper body, nobody will know what it is.” Which was true, so I stuck out my tongue at my goddess and let her position me.
After several minutes and some pitching of balled-up sketch paper, MacKenzie was satisfied with her sketch. Then she said what I was expecting and hoping for. “Michaelangelo used to sketch from nude men, you know. So now I want you to pose like the David.”
And, as with my shirt, MacKenzie immediately started opening my pants and pulling them down. She was in a rush and took my underpants with my jeans. It was hard getting my goddess to slow down long enough for me to get my shoes and socks off. Then I fell into the pose you’ve seen so many times.
Now the statue of the David is of a young man, probably seventeen or so, a muscular lad just coming into manhood. I was a fifteen-year-old geek, kind of scrawny and pale. But MacKenzie sketched as if she was in Florence in a good light. She even knelt to get the low view (from behind and in front) and a couple of times she actually lay on the floor to get the right view. Finally she showed me her sketch pad with a broad smile.
“Well, I can see where you started with me,” I said. “You’ve got the moles on my shoulders. But when did I grow those muscles?”
“So I used my steroidal charcoal,” MacKenzie laughed and then kissed me, hugging my bareness against her. “You’re probably two inches taller and fifteen pounds better than last fall, my sweetie.”
“I think you’ve grown only an inch or so, though,” I said.
“Half an inch, but I’ve gone from AA to A cup, anyway,” MacKenzie giggled.
“Hey, you have to prove that to me,” I said.
“You’ve been feeling my breasts since I got them, practically,” MacKenzie said. “You can’t tell?” That sounded like a dangerous question.
“Well, I though so, but I wanted to be discreet,” I said.
“So what proof do you want?” MacKenzie asked.
“I should check your bra,” I said.
“Do you want to look in my drawer?” my goddess asked.
“Do I want to look in your drawers? Of course I do. But we’re talking about your bra.”
“No,” she giggled. “I mean, look in the drawer of my dresser to see what bra size I wear.”
That wouldn’t prove much,” I said. “You might have a bigger bra in your drawer just because you’re hoping to need it. I’ve got a condom in my dresser, you know.”
“You’ve got what?” my goddess asked, practically convulsed with laughter.
“A condom. Your promise to your mother was for a couple of years. You’ll be sixteen in…” I did a little mental math. “In thirteen months and five days. A month after me. I just planned ahead. Anyway, the proof I want is to look at the bra you’re wearing.” I pushed her back a little and turned her back to me, then pulled her into a hug. I gently ran my hands over her top and under it to her breasts. “Yes, this bra fits you nicely. So let me look at the label on it.”
MacKenzie agreed and I pulled her top over her head to show her bra. “There’s no tag back here,” I said. “I’ll have to look in front.”
“The tag is kind of inside my bra,” MacKenzie said. “So I guess you’ll have to take it off.” Of course I complied as part of my investigation. I took off her bra and checked the tag. “It says 19 AA Trainer,” I announced.
MacKenzie spun around, grabbed the bra from me and swung it into my face. “You fink,” she said, laughing and showing me the tag. “It says 32 A. Perfectly proportionate for a petite dew drop.” Then she grabbed me and knocked me down to the floor, sprawling on top of me.
I got back up and pulled MacKenzie into a bare-breast hug and kiss. “Do I get to sketch you now?” I asked.
“Sure. How do you want me to pose?”
“Hold on a minute,” I said. I got the cushions from the couch and arranged them on the floor. “I want to do a classic odalisque pose,” I said. 
“You mean a bar-painting, don’t you?” MacKenzie said as she sat on the cushions.
“Oh, pick your own term. I want to pose you in your panties on your tummy first, then naked on your tummy.”
“That does sound sexy,” my goddess purred. She stood up as I came to my knees and she let me take off her skirt. Then she lay face down on the carpet and tried several cheeky little poses and faces. We finally selected one with her chin in her hands and her feet raised. I sketched from sitting and lying positions to get as much nuance as I could, although the sketch pad was covered by lines only vaguely resembling the loveliness before me.
Thinking of MacKenzie’s mother, I slipped on my underpants before I asked MacKenzie, “May I take your panties off now?” She nodded but stayed on her stomach on the cushions. I pulled down on her waistband and she raised her wonderful bottom so I could pull her panties past her hips. I paused long enough that my goddess said, “Are you stripping me or taking a tour?” So I finished taking off her panties and did another series of sketches.
They were as poor as the first set, as MacKenzie took delight in telling me when she saw them. We put the couch back together and MacKenzie put her panties back on. Then we cuddled up on the couch for a long time and just held each other and kissed.
Time marched on. We were fifteen and a half now, deep in our college programs. We attended college in town because our parents didn’t want us in the dorms at that stage. Among our neighbors were an older couple, very pleasant people who had some difficulty getting around at times. Winter was hard on them, but MacKenzie and I were among several neighbor teenagers who would shovel their sidewalks and otherwise pitch in a little.
One Friday evening, following a seven-inch snow and an Arctic blast that brought the temperature down to about four below zero, MacKenzie and I took snow shovels over to our neighbors’ house and got to work. Some of the snow had drifted and compacted, so that fell to my lot. By now I’d had a real growth spurt, coming to five-ten and 140 pounds. MacKenzie had stopped growing at fourteen, at least in height, topping out at five-one. So if I wasn’t really a mountain of a man, I was big enough to be a sheltering presence for MacKenzie. Since my goddess had all the real power in our relationship – most of it anyway – I enjoyed a sense of being physically larger and more powerful than she was. Anyway, we shoveled and pushed snow (and flung a few snowballs) for an hour or more before we got done. We went to MacKenzie’s house when we were done. Her parents, justified fully in their trust of her, had gone skiing for the weekend. Of course MacKenzie often went with them, but they also went on their own. “Horny weekends,” my goddess had informed me. 
We pulled our boots off and other extraneous gear. The house was warm but MacKenzie was shaking with the cold from outside. I held her in my arms but her teeth were still chattering hard.
I scooped her up and carried her into the Holy of Holies, although I had no erotic plans for her. I set her on her bed and said, “Let me get a bath ready for you. Then I can make some supper while you get warmed up.” MacKenzie nodded, still too cold even to talk clearly.
I went to the bathroom and found some bubble bath. I ran the tub as hot as I thought my goddess could enjoy it. I added a goodly amount of the bubble bath and I worked up the bubbles as hard as I could with my hands.
When I went back to MacKenzie, she had gotten her pajamas and bathrobe. I lifted her again and carried her to the bathroom. I held her on my lap as I stripped off her clothes. Her jeans were wet which was part of why she was so cold, of course. My goddess put her head against my chest while I worked her clothes off of her. Then I picked her up and I managed to put her in the tub without quite falling in with her.
It was almost like all those cartoons where the dog is blue with cold, then turns back to a normal color until his nose turns red like an old thermometer. MacKenzie quickly stopped shaking and relaxed into the hot bubbles. I knelt by the tub and got her soap puff. I dipped it in the hot water and I gently sponged over her shoulders and her back. My goddess shifted back in the tub, raising her breasts from the bubbles for me to enjoy, and I bathed them with the hot water as well. 
I had no excuse for gently washing over her belly and her legs with the puff but then I didn’t really need an excuse. My goddess’s warm look at me as I caressed her was all I wanted then. She leaned forward and I gently washed down her back as well. Then she leaned back again with a sign and slid down to her chin.
“I’m okay now,” she said softly. I went to the kitchen and started warming soup on the stove. I made grilled cheese sandwiches too. After I flipped the sandwiches, I went back in to see how my mermaid-goddess was doing.
She was smiling, her eyes closed, just touching her nipples a bit. I made a noise with my foot as I came in and she opened her eyes slowly. Then she asked me, “Is supper ready?”
“I just flipped the sandwiches,” I said. “That’s just enough time to get you dressed.” My goddess stood up in the tub, water and suds flowing softly down her slick body. I got her towel as she stepped out to the bath mat and I wrapped it around her. I took as much time as I dared to dry her – I had sandwiches that I didn’t want to burn, after all – and helped her put on her pajamas, not that she needed any help.
After supper, we just lay on the couch together for a while, basically dressed, although my goddess did open up her pajama top so I could cuddle her breasts and kiss them. It was a very special hour even if it was very low-key in the erotic department.
We were near the end of the promise period eventually. One warm afternoon we found ourselves cuddled on her bed, fully dressed but I was considering whether to work on that. MacKenzie was as affectionate as always but I knew something was on her mind. I also knew that anything on her mind about us would come to her lips in due course. As we lay almost dozing, MacKenzie looked into my eyes and I knew she was ready to say something.
“You know my birthday’s coming up soon,” she said.
“Yes, we’ll both be sixteen in a few months,” I answered. Were we going to set a date for opening night?
“I’ve been thinking about my promise to my mother and thinking about what I want for myself. We’ve had two years of foreplay now.”
“And loving every minute of it,” I said.
“I love it too. But I have a hard question for you.” MacKenzie rolled on her side so she was looking down at me, her arms around me.
“Hard questions from you scare me,” I said. “But you know you have to go ahead once you say something like that.”
My goddess looked in my eyes again. “Is foreplay enough for you?” she asked. “Two years of it?”
“I’ve had more joy with you than anything I’ve heard the older guys talk about when they say they’ve scored,” I said. I had no idea what was on her mind.
“Do you want to do more? Do you want to go all the way?”
“Of course I do. Your promise to your mother is more important than that.”
MacKenzie put her head on my shoulder and played on the back of my hand with a finger. I had my arm around her and she was wearing a skirt. I was enormously interested in lifting her skirt up to hold her panties, but I thought I’d better see more about how the wind was setting.
“Some of the girls talk about their dates too. They say they have a good time sometimes, sometimes they don’t seem to. But some of the girls say they put out for their boyfriends so their boyfriends won’t get bored or date other girls.”
Insecurity from my goddess? How could she question my devotion?
“MacKenzie, you are the girl I love. Almost the woman I love. You’re the only girl I’ve ever dated, or touched, or kissed. You’re the only girl I ever want to touch.”
MacKenzie sighed heavily. “I know that. I want it to always be that way for you and me. And I want to help make you happy. Help you have a good time.”
“We always have a good time when we play our way,” I said. I was still completely at sea but my goddess brought me to shore.
“Rob, you know how much I love you. And I love what we’re doing together. Rob, I don’t want to have sex when I turn sixteen. I want to wait.”
Well, here was cause for mixed feelings. Although most of the power in our relationship was with MacKenzie because I wanted always to please her, I thought that day, and I have always believed since then, that I could have pressed her and gotten my way. Not by importuning MacKenzie but only by saying I wanted it so much. And I surely did want to hold MacKenzie naked against me, as we would not do under the terms of our promise. I wanted to lick her between her legs and have her lick me. I wanted – as much as you imagine I wanted – I wanted to press my penis into her vagina, to feel her around me, to hold her in the closest embrace of all. I wanted to have her virginity and to have her claim mine. I wanted to have a screaming orgasm with her as my first sexual experience and hers. I wanted all this and MacKenzie knew I did.
“What do you want to wait for?” I asked.
“I want to stay a girl and not yet a woman for a while,” she said. “We both start jobs in a couple of months. We’re going to have our classes and our research projects. We’re going to be paid salaries and have work schedules. We’ll even be driving. We’re already surrounded by adults, except for each other. The only part of being a girl that I have left is with you. We have our sex play but not sex. I want to keep that for a while yet.”
I held my goddess close to me. Actually, what she said made a lot of sense. I understood it and part of me felt the same way. Major geniuses have distorted childhood timelines. Of course we do; we learn at a pace that leaves children our own age behind and bewildered. We wind up working on grant proposals when other kids are just learning to write coherent themes. We finish school and begin working when most kids start part-time jobs. MacKenzie and I had never even had the usual teenager jobs like fast-food. Our parents had done their best with a strange and exhilarating situation. They had made sure we had time for fun as well as the satisfaction of our intellects. But MacKenzie’s description was accurate: we had only a small piece of childhood or of adolescence left to us.
“Most beloved,” I said, “your wish is always my hope. You know I want to have real sex, but you know it will only happen when you wish for it too. Let me suggest a date.”
MacKenzie giggled at my formal language but she would stop giggling in a minute, I thought. “What date do you think will be magical?” she asked.
“May 1 of the year after next year,” I said. MacKenzie propped up on her elbow and I saw she was doing a little math.
“That’s about six weeks after my eighteenth birthday,” my goddess said.
“That’s true, but that’s not what’s important about it,” I said.
“What’s so big about that date?” she asked.
“You notice that it’s a Saturday,” I said. I had worked that out in my head.
“Yes, it is. So, a big Saturday night?” she giggled again.
“A big Saturday night after the biggest of Saturdays. Saturday is the traditional wedding day,” I said to my goddess.
“Our wedding day?” MacKenzie looked as if she was about to giggle but the look in my eye sent the giggle far away. She lay back onto my chest and put her arm around me again. Her eyes lost focus. “Our wedding day.”
“This is hardly a sudden thing,” I said. “In fact, I think we could tell our parents even now. We’re just shy of sixteen but they know how it is. They know we’re so in love that we can only be happy with each other.”
“They may have a problem with this,” MacKenzie said, pulling me tighter. “I say yes, oh God do I say yes. But our parents are going to say we’re not even sixteen. How can we know what we’ll want in two years?”
“And we can do two things,” I said. “First, we can tell them that we do know what we’ll want in two years because we know what we’ve wanted for two years already. Second, we can listen to them and then go ahead with what we know is right.”
In the end we made our engagement a secret for another year. MacKenzie did talk with her mother to say that we had decided to postpone sex and told her about why. I had never talked with my own parents about our sex play although they probably had some ideas. We waited another year to say anything.
MacKenzie’s birthday and mine were major shared family events. MacKenzie was not the sister I’d never had, nor I the brother she didn’t have. But because we were close, our parents had been glad to have parties together for birthdays and the two of us had dinner at the other’s house at least a couple of times each week. We had both been given substantial salaries in our first jobs, enough that we had bought older cars with our own money. Now, at MacKenzie’s sweet-seventeen party, we were opening presents. I had not told MacKenzie of my plan for that evening and I think she was nearly as shocked as our parents were when she opened the box and found the engagement ring with matching earrings.
But that year had been what my parents, at least, needed. I’m sure all four parents had some qualms but I never heard them from mine and MacKenzie never said anything about her parents having doubts. There were feminine tears and hugs all around and even a sip of champagne although we were of course underage. We duly set the date for May 1.
You might think that that last year of foreplay would be very long. It was a summer’s breath, an autumn rain, a winter’s snowfall and a spring bloom. We both had much to keep us busy besides our mutual infatuation and affection. We were researching together in the evenings and had our jobs and their duties by day. We had our time to hold each other and play together in the closing days of MacKenzie’s girlhood – and my boyhood. MacKenzie did proclaim, and I acquiesced, a moratorium on any contact more than kissing and hugging from March 1. “We’re giving it up for Lent,” she said. This was a flimsy story since we’d never done that before, and because the moratorium continued long after Easter.
And May 1 came. The guests had gathered for three days before our wedding. The dress was hidden from me until the very hour. I was at my very best in white tie and a real waistcoat, not the false vest that most grooms’ outfits have. They tell me grooms often seem to sleepwalk through the wedding but I have vivid, golden memories of everything. My first view of the goddess in the second-most wonderful garments she had ever worn. The music. Sam behind me with the ring ready in his hand. Our pastor’s cheerful and yet solemn pronouncements. “I do.” “Man and wife.”
Although we were going to travel to a resort for several days, our first night was to be in our own home. Our families had worked busily with us to prepare everything and neither of us had spent the night there yet. We had changed at the church after the reception, our wedding outfits entrusted to the maid of honor and the best man. MacKenzie was wearing cutoffs, sandals, a T-shirt as we got into my car and left. I thought she must have cleared the decks for action.
I lifted her over the threshold as easily as a kitten. I carried her to our bedroom – our bedroom – and I sat on the bed – our bed – with her on my lap.
I had taken MacKenzie’s clothes off many times over four years – sometimes just a few items, rarely all of them. This time was the most delightful of all as I pulled her T-shirt off and caressed her breasts over her bra. I pulled my goddess into a hug and kiss as I unfastened the back of her bra, freeing her breasts. I had not seen them nor touched them for months and of course this was why. To give this night a feeling of newness that it couldn’t have had otherwise.
MacKenzie was after my clothes as well and now our bare chests were pressed together. Her nipples were wonderful points pressed into my skin. I got her cutoffs open and wiggled them off of her without letting her leave my lap, but I had to stand up so my goddess could take my pants off. I wound up on my knees, drawing her white panties down as slowly as I could, wanting the moment to be forever.
And found a surprise. MacKenzie was, after all, eighteen. She had sprouted pubic hair at fourteen, had had a small but convincing thatch at fifteen. I had played in that very thatch on the last of February. Where the hell was it?
A giggle answered the question in my eyes as I looked up. “I was at the beauty shop for hours yesterday. I remembered the first time we touched each other and I wanted to be the same way. Almost as if we had gone all the way when we were fourteen.” She giggled for a minute. “And I want you to lick me, too. I thought hair wouldn’t be nice for licking.”
I was already in the right place and I had the commandment of my goddess. Embracing her around her slim waist and caressing her bare bottom, I ran my tongue over the fold between her legs. Since she was standing with her legs together, I could only dip the tip of my tongue into her beautiful fold, but she was pleased with that for now. Much squealing and giggling followed my efforts.
I stood up and kissed my naked goddess more. She broke the kiss long enough to get my underpants off past the biggest erection I could remember having. She stood up and pulled me against herself again, now with my bare cock between our bellies.
We tumbled onto our bed and stroked and touched everything we could find. I got to hold my goddess on top of me, bare and wonderful, playing her bare bottom as she rubbed her small nipples against my chest. She kissed and licked my penis a few times and I rolled her onto her back so I could lick her lovely vagina again. MacKenzie opened her legs and I got my tongue as deep into her vagina as I could make it go.
And then I stopped for a moment. Carefully I moved up so I could place my cock between our bellies. I kissed and licked my goddess’s naked breasts. I breathed under her arms, knowing she would laugh and she did. I stroked her thighs while I gently put my teeth on her nipples and pulled them, knowing how she loved that.
We were there. MacKenzie put her hand on my penis and guided me to the holiest of her holies, to the greatest act of devotion I had so longed to perform. I slipped my penis into her very, very wet vagina. The head of my penis was tingling and my heart was pounding. I was eager to plunge in and yet I stopped again.
“Am I going to hurt you?” I asked.
“No,” my goddess smiled. “I knew you would worry about that. So I saw my doctor and she gave me a little help.” MacKenzie looked up at me, considering. “It does feel both strange and pleasant. But it’s just a stretching. Nothing hurts. Go ahead. Please, please, go ahead.” She hugged me tighter and put her hands on my bottom, urging me.
I pushed in, then, in one move. I was slow but I didn’t hesitate. I almost came on that first entry but I was able to gain some control. MacKenzie whispered something in my ear, something of love and lust, but I don’t recall what. I pulled back and pushed in again, as many times as I could, gaining the reward of MacKenzie’s body moving rapidly against me and of her sounds mingling with my own.
I would like to announce that my very first sexual event brought my bride to a shattering orgasm to match mine. I would also like to announce that I won the Nobel Prize. The second one may yet happen, the first did not. My control wasn’t enough to keep me in the game that long. Not that time, anyway. But I knew how to follow up and MacKenzie, my goddess, was as delighted as I was when we fell asleep, naked and wrapped up in each other.
I have mentioned how delighted I was with my first orgasm. Naturally I was also delighted with my first sex with MacKenzie. I had enjoyed our touching and finally entering my goddess’s vagina. I had nearly swooned with the excitement and the sheer pleasure of feeling her wet warmth around my penis and reaching orgasm inside her. But I found a new delight during the night. We had fallen asleep with MacKenzie’s head pillowed on my shoulder and my hand cuddling her bare bottom. Sometime during the night I woke and found I was lying on my side. MacKenzie was lying with her back to me, her breathing soft. Her nakedness was pressed against my whole body. I could feel all of my flesh pressed to all of hers, especially my penis and my pelvis against her bare bottom. This naked closeness was a joy I had never expected.
I put my arm around my goddess-bride and found her small, bare breast. I teased her nipple as I squirmed my penis against her bottom. She woke quickly but in a dreamy state. We said no words, only murmuring together as I stroked her. Then she rolled to her back and pulled me on top of her. We were both still in a daze as I pushed into her wonderful wetness again. But a few moments later we were wildly awake. Somehow I managed to roll to my back and bring MacKenzie on top without falling out of her vagina.
This time she came. Her thighs clenched me so I could hardly breathe and her face was contorted with the wave of joy that swept through her. She pushed herself down on me and rocked up again, over and over, and I clenched my pelvic muscles to delay my orgasm as long as I could, to give her as long as possible. When the strongest part of the wave passed, my goddess held me in her vagina and leaned forward to collapse against my chest. Eventually we unhooked and settled to sleep, spooned up again.