## Archive-name: Ursula

From: Anonymous@anonymous.com (Anonymous)

Subject: Ursula (1/5)

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories

On a personal note, I ask you not to remove either this afterward or my handle.

Thanks, in advance.

Ursula is the explicit tale of a girl exploring her newly emerging sexuality as she enters adolescence. If such things offend you, please read no farther.

Everything you are about to read is probably fiction.

Ursula by Friar Dave

Chapter One

Almost all the other kids on the block were Catholic and went to the Catholic grade school, so that made Ursula an outsider from the start. She was Lutheran and went to public school. Nor did it help much that her family had only moved onto the block the previous September, so she'd had no chance to get to know the other kids during summer vacation.
Her parents were rigorous about studying. Ursula was expected to get As, always As. An A-minus was cause for stern lectures in German from her father and in English and German from her mother.
And that was another obstacle. Her parents had come to America only two years before. Ursula had studied English in grade school in Hamburg. At the New York City public school she attended, she'd quickly assimilated all the current terms -- "Fuck," "Shit," "Piss," et cetera -- from her schoolmates. But even the one or two times kids from school had come over to play with her, they'd been put off by her parents' German and her mother's heavily accented English.
Of course, there was Roxanne, upstairs on the third floor. Roxanne was three years older than her, but she had the same background. She was friendly enough and willing to chat in English with Ursula and in German with Ursula's parents. Ursula's parents and Roxanne's were always visiting one another's apartment, or all four of them were going off to church functions.
The main difference was that Roxanne had already spent four years on the block and she got along fine with the rowdy Irish and Italian and Polish kids. It helped that Roxanne had dark eyes, thick dark hair and a dark complexion, like many of the Italian kids. But the primary reason she'd become part of their activities was that Roxanne loved sports. She was only an acceptable hitter, but she was a solid outfielder with great speed and a superb arm -- a trait considered doubly valuable in the winter, during the snowball wars on the block. And when the Brooklyn streets weren't snow-covered, there seemed always to be a few kids playing roller hockey on the broken asphalt, and Roxanne was right in there with the rest of them, roughing it up and giving as good as she got. Roxanne was tall, lean and so much the tomboy that she fit right in with the boys.
Which was yet another, and possibly the most damning, difference. There was no way Ursula could fit in with the boys, even if she hadn't had bright red hair, blue eyes and an almost translucent complexion. Ursula was small, even for ten, with a very compact, petite frame...except that her breasts were already developing. They weren't terribly prominent, but they were so wide that they nearly covered her entire chest, starting just beneath her collarbones and reaching all the way down till they were even with her breastbone. And her nipples were always, it seemed, sticking out. Worse, her parents refused to consider a bra for her. A bra for a ten-year-old? Absurd!
All of it led to her standing in the doorway atop the short flight of steps leading to the entry of the tenement, forced to content herself with watching the other kids laugh and play. Ursula was wearing her play clothes: sneakers, a tee-shirt and a modest skirt. (No jeans for Ursula, because that was what the hippies wore, decreed her mother and father.) And no matter what she did, nothing could hide the swells of her rapidly developing breasts. She was shy about that, as she was about everything, and kept her arms folded as she squinted in the early May sunshine and watched the other kids play in the little four-square-block park across the street.
As she turned her head to follow the flight of a ball hit by Louis, the handsome Italian boy from around the corner, the sun glinted brightly off the thick braid of red hair hanging over her shoulder. She watched Roxanne track the ball down, glove it and hurl it back in to Jackie. Then all the kids on the field were yelling at each other to back up, because it was Daniel's turn at bat. Even the park attendant, sweeping the pathways, paused to watch when Daniel came to the plate.
Daniel! She hugged her arms tightly to herself, feeling her nipples harden conspicuously. She'd watched him covertly from her window when he played hockey or touch football during the long winter. Time and again, she studied him secretly during the winter months when he took an old bat into the park and practiced hitting progressively smaller pebbles.
Ursula had begun regularly taking a schoolbook and sitting outside, on one of the benches sprinkled along the periphery of the park. She'd finally, after three freezing Saturdays, gotten up the nerve to ask him and he'd explained that when he could hit even the smallest pebble exactly where and how he wanted it, he would be a good hitter.
He lived up to his promise. He swung and hit the third pitch like a rocket through the treetops in dead center field. Roxanne didn't even bother chasing it; she just loped past the trees and the pathway and climbed into the "greengrass" -- the fenced-in area reserved for birds -- and retrieved the ball.
Daniel! She watched him running the basepath and felt the tightness inside, where she'd lately been able to work one grudging finger inside. Ursula knew the facts of life. Her mother had made sure of that, whether or not she would admit the need for a bra. And Ursula had, that same night, taken time in the bathtub to investigate the deep cleft between her legs. In here? No -- here!
The opening was tiny and she worked at it and finally got just the tip of one finger inside to the first knuckle. It felt...interesting, but was -- as her mother warned -- not particularly pleasant. Sort of neutral, at least the first time.
But there was a spot at the top of her cleft that felt really nice when she touched it. So she kept touching it and she felt something begin to swell there and whenever she touched it, that spot felt better and better. She kept rubbing it and playing with it and soon her nipples were so hard she just had to squeeze them and her hips were shaking and then she thought she was going to die, it felt so good. She became faint and frightened from the little orgasm. She was afraid she'd pass out and drown in the tub. Or release the yelp of pleasure she felt and give away the fact that she was playing with herself.
Better to practice this at night, in her bed, under the cover of her blankets and with a pillow that could muffle any noise that she might make. Besides, then she would not have the time limit she had to deal with whenever she was in the bath.
And that was just what she did. Every night, shy little lonely redheaded Ursula lay with her face in her pillow, her fingers busy over that magic spot above her opening, bringing herself to orgasm. Sometimes she would venture a fingertip inside herself at the same time, and then she would feel her little vagina clenching fiercely on the digit when she came. Often, she came more than once that way.
More and more, as the winter waned into spring and then threatened to become summer, she would find herself imagining it was Daniel who was touching her there, that it was his finger moving inside her. She would try to imagine what it would be like to have him kiss her breasts, especially her nipples, and her lips and eyes. She would dream up scenarios that usually included Daniel saying he thought her red hair was beautiful (even though she was sure he thought it was ugly, as she was sure it really was) and eventually confessing that he'd always been in love with her, but he couldn't say so because his Papist family forbade him to have anything to do with a Lutheran, but he couldn't help himself -- he was going to convert to her church so he could be with her and -- and --
About that time, the scenario usually collapsed into Daniel kissing her nipples and rubbing her between her legs and she would come over and over and over.
She masturbated at night and every chance she got to be alone in the house, which was pretty often. Both her parents worked and they were very active in the church and in a group that helped other Germans emigrate to America.
Apparently, Daniel's hit had ended the game, because the dozen or so kids were separating into a few small groups of two or three or four and going their own way. Daniel and Roxanne and Jackie were walking toward her side of the park, talking and laughing. Daniel had his bat and glove and he held the battered baseball. Jackie, who was smaller than Daniel though only a few months younger, was capering raucously as always. Occasionally, he darted in close and touched Roxanne -- "copping a feel," Roxanne had once explained -- and leaped away before she could get him.
"Jackie, knock it off, willya?"
Daniel's voice carried to Ursula's ears and she felt the now- familiar moisture gathering between her legs. He was so handsome! Even her parents said so, as did Roxanne. And her parents thought he was really a good young man -- for a Catholic. He had refused to join any of the gangs in the neighborhood and had never been seen engaging in the petty vandalism or rowdiness that so many of even the better kids played at. He even had an after-school job, as a bonded messenger, in Manhattan. If only he weren't five years older than Ursula! She was sure Roxanne was going to snare him as a boyfriend -- her parents were much less strict about the different faiths, at least for friends -- and then he'd be completely out of reach by the time Ursula was old enough to --
"Hi, Ursula!" Roxanne called.
"Hello, Ursula," Daniel said.
She tried to reply, but all she could manage was a shy smile. She wasn't sure what would come out if she spoke. "I love you!" or "Kiss me!" or "I want you to touch my spot!" She felt her face turning scarlet and smiled and waved and then scurried into the tenement. She let herself into the endless cool darkness of the halls and scampered up to the second floor. Once inside her deserted home, she hurried to her room, quickly stripped off her soggy panties, rolled her skirt around the place where her waist would be when her hips finally flared and began rubbing furiously. It didn't take long before she was cumming and cumming -- and then crying in frustration. Oh, she wanted him so much! She felt as if there were a fist in her belly that twisted whenever she considered her loneliness and yearning for the forbidden boy down the block --
She suddenly silenced herself and heard the sound again -- a knocking at the door to the apartment. Her first thought, of course, was that it was him...but her practical thinking processes quickly dashed the hope. No one had rung the doorbell in the lobby to gain admission to dark hallways of the quiet tenement.
"A moment, please!" she called, properly, as she straightened and patted her skirt. No time for the panties; besides, even Ursula could smell the ripe scent of her aroused juices on them. She moved quickly and quietly toward the door, pausing to splash some cold water from the bathroom sink onto her face.
When she opened the door, she held a face towel in one hand.
Roxanne.
"Hi, Ursula!" Her voice, as with her heavy-boned, open face, was bright and enthusiastic -- and strong. Roxanne was smiling, and when she smiled, all of her face smiled; even her stance seemed to smile. "Are your folks home?" She stepped right into the apartment.
"No, they're -- "
"Yes! I forgot! So are mine." She turned in the narrow foyer of the apartment and leaned against the wall, facing the younger girl. "Want to come upstairs and listen to records? I have some new ones. Or we can play cards or watch TV -- "
She broke off and stared at Ursula. "You've been crying."
"No, I -- Yes."
"How come?"
Ursula shrugged. "I don't know. I just sometimes feel so sad..." She shrugged again, hoping to end the discussion. "Who won the game?"
"Oh, they did, of course. Whatever side Daniel is on always wins." She laughed. "Maybe someday, another team will win."
"He's very good," Ursula ventured. "Doesn't it bother you that his side always wins?"
Roxanne shrugged, now. "A little. Someday, the other team will win. But I don't mind that much; I like to watch him run and hit and catch and throw -- "
"Me, too!" she blurted out.
Roxanne looked at her oddly, then smiled. "I thought so. He is so handsome and nice...too nice."
"What do you mean?"
"I wouldn't mind him copping a feel on me, the way Danny and Jackie and the others try to. But he never tries. Of course," she sighed, "maybe like the other boys he'd rather grab Sharon or one of the other girls with big knobs. They don't try to touch me unless I'm the only girl." She looked down at her featureless shirt. "I hope I get mine soon."
Ursula didn't hope Roxanne got hers soon, but kept quiet about it. "You think he touches the other girls?" She hoped she was keeping the jealousy out of her voice.
"Anything in the refrigerator?" Roxanne asked, turning abruptly and heading for the kitchen. They passed Ursula's room. "What did you -- oh, yeah. No, I don't think so. He doesn't really hang out with the rest of the guys and he doesn't seem interested in the other girls. I thought maybe he was queer for a while -- that's what some of the guys suggested -- but I heard he was making out really hot and heavy with a girl he went to grade school with."
Ursula burned with hatred. The slut! "Oh, yeah?"
Roxanne opened the refrigerator and scanned the contents. Ursula's parents' idea of a soft drink for a growing child was Hi-C. They settled for that. "Want some?" Roxanne asked, as if she were the hostess.
Ursula shook her head. "A girl from his grade school? The Catholic school?"
"Yeah." Roxanne poured two glasses of the sweet stuff anyway and slid into one of the hard chairs placed around the tiny kitchen table.
Ursula took the other. "Does he still?"
"Still what?"
"Make out with her?"
Roxanne shook her head and looked out through the window, studying the clotheslines full of laundry that stretched between the backs of the tenements. "Her mother found out and stopped it, I heard. He was really pissed, but what are you going to do? You know parents. And I think Jackie said he goes out with a girl from another Catholic high school sometimes." She took another drink of the Hi-C. "He thinks you're pretty, y'know."
Ursula almost choked. "Wh-wh-what?"
Roxanne made a face. "Yeah, he said that a couple of weeks ago, and just now when you got all red and ran inside."
"What did he say?"
Ursula's eyes watched her face. "He said, uh, he thinks you're cute and wonders why you always run away when he comes near you."
Because I'm terrified, Ursula thought.
Roxanne was still talking. "And he asked me how old you are and seemed a little sad when I told him almost-eleven. He said that's what he thought, but he was hoping he was wrong, because he wishes you were a little older so you could, I dunno, be friends, I guess. I dunno."
"Me, too!"
The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Ursula put her hands on her face in horror at her self-betrayal and was ready to bolt, but Roxanne reached across the table with her tomboy-strong hands and took Ursula's forearms in a preemptive grip. "You have a crush on him, don't you?"
"No! Yes! I can't, because -- No!"
Roxanne slowly let go of her forearms and smiled. "It's okay. So do I. So does every other girl I know of, even the ones who won't admit it to their clubs. Why should you be different?"
"Because -- because he's so much older and he's Catholic and he always hangs out with you and -- " She ran out of gas.
Roxanne looked at her with eyes that were suddenly somehow more knowing and intelligent than Ursula had expected or ever seen before in her best friend. "You think he's interested in me?"
"More than some skinny ten-year-old!" Ursula blurted.
"Almost eleven, next month, and you're not going to be skinny much longer." She stared pointedly at Ursula's tee-shirt. "That's why he thought you might be older. You're already getting yours, and yours are probably going to be real big." She looked back into Ursula's eyes. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and seemed about to say something. A long moment passed, then the indecision was resolved and Ursula knew that whatever it was Roxanne had been considering telling her was going to remain a secret for the moment. "But it won't matter how old you are or how pretty you are or how big your knobs are if you run away every time a guy says something to you."
"I guess. I just get all scared I'm going to say something or do something or -- I don't know! It's like I'm supposed to do something and I don't know what it is!"
Roxanne stood, draining her Hi-C and rinsing the glass in the sink. "You'll find out; don't worry."
"What does that mean?"
Roxanne ignored it. Suddenly, bouncy, enthusiastic Roxanne was back, displacing the thoughtful, wise Roxanne. "Hey, want to go to the movies?"
"I don't have much money..."
"We can go to the cheap-charly matinee at the Meserole."
"What're they showing?"
"'Sink the Bismarck!'"
Ursula giggled. "But we can't tell my par -- my folks."
Roxanne laughed, too, and it was agreed.
That night, Ursula would again ponder Roxanne's words, especially the promise: You'll find out.
What did it mean? She couldn't spend too much time on the subject, because all-too-soon, she was remembering that other, critical information: Daniel thought she was pretty and wished she was older. She held that thought and all the possibilities it unlocked as she rolled over and pushed her face into her pillow and her hands between her legs and furiously masturbated.

From: Anonymous@anonymous.com (Anonymous) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: Ursula (2/5) Date: 26 Aug 92 02:05:56 GMT Organization: 1992-Beat-The-Hell-Outta-Everyone Aggies of Texas A&M

For 99 percent of those who can read, this is a needless reminder, so I address this to the one percent.
If you enjoyed this story and/or appreciate the time and effort I put into writing it, there's a simple way for you to quietly show that appreciation -- by acting as a responsible BBSer. That means:
Don't let any minors read this;
Don't send it to any BBS that wouldn't welcome it. You may not agree with the SysOp's restriction on x-rated files or stories involving people under 19 (21 in some states), but that's the SysOp's perogative and as a guest/subscriber/user of his or her BBS, you are honor-bound to respect the stated restrictions;
Don't change or modify the file name or the text itself; that's a cheat and we both know it.

On a personal note, I ask you not to remove either this afterward or my handle.

Thanks, in advance.

Ursula is the explicit tale of a girl exploring her newly emerging sexuality as she enters adolescence. If such things offend you, please read no farther.

Everything you are about to read is probably fiction.

Ursula by Friar Dave

Chapter Two

Her eleventh birthday came and went with appropriate celebration. The summer fled and then it was school time. As she'd known, she was totally separate from the world of the other kids on her block. Only Roxanne's bulletins gave her any sense of what was happening. She sometimes saw Daniel from her window and a few times passed him on the sidewalk. He always said hello and she always managed to return the greeting -- blushing furiously all the while.
Christmas came and fled and the depth of the New York winter was upon her. She watched enviously from her window as the snowball wars raged during one of the heavy blizzards. One afternoon when classes were canceled because of the snow, she watched Roxanne, Jackie and Daniel alone stand off most of the rest of the block for more than hour. She wished she could have been out there with them, She couldn't throw worth a damn, of course, but she could make the snowballs for them -- for him.
The winter broke and spring erupted in the park across the street. She had little time to observe it; her parents were adamant about maintaining her straight-A average.
Near the end of June, with the beginning of summer vacation, her parents announced she was going to spend two weeks in Pennsylvania at a Church-sponsored camp. Ursula was not thrilled. She had tried to be more relaxed with the kids on the block and was succeeding. With most of them, she felt no pressure, since she had no interest in any of them -- except Daniel, of course -- and they were as stand-offish as her intuition had told her at the start. Which, even at twelve, she didn't hold against them. Most were two years or so older than she was, and those are very big years to 14-year-olds. Also, she had always been pretty separate from them; no surprise that her warming now should be largely unnoticed.
Still, she found she could risk their laughter or derision -- "rank-outs," Roxanne explained -- and not die or melt from embarrassment. She'd yet to try her evolving social skills on Him, and a two-week absence in Pennsylvania with a bunch of "nice children your own age and with the same background, ja?" wasn't going to help much. Especially since she knew that when she got back, Daniel would be off to his family's beach home for the rest of the summer.
In the end, of course, she was packed off to the camp in Pennsylvania. Her mother and father took her and her luggage at eight o'clock in the morning to the Port Authority Bus Terminal, where they eventually found the chartered bus, already two-thirds filled with other 10-, 11- and 12-year- olds bound for an idyllic two weeks at the church- sponsored camp. All were girls, of course, since the boys' sessions were held separately, lest some 10-year-old go on a rape rampage.
The bus ride was endless and Ursula spent most of it suffering the childish prattling of the 11-year-old seated next to her and wondering if she would go crazy after two weeks of being unable to relieve the nightly ache in her little cunny. After all, they would sleep six to a cabin and there was no way that even the pillow would sufficiently muffle her pleasured cries with five others in the same room!
Not to mention her other ache -- the one from being away from Him!
The camp was efficient. It took less than an hour to unload the cargo from the bus, instruct it, assign it and have it all ready and reported for the first activity of the day -- exercise.
Her parents had purchased all of the recommended clothing and gear, so Ursula was ready. She was shy about changing in front of the other girls; she'd never really been undressed in the presence of anyone but her mother and her doctor, not since she was four or five years old. She changed almost furtively into the gym shorts and tank-top tee-shirt and quickly lined up with her roommates in front of the little cabin.
Their cabin Chief was a large, heavyset woman with a no-nonsense expression on her face. Mrs. Wollman looked them over and sent all but Ursula down the path to the exercise field. She kept Ursula back, and sat on the top step leading up to the little cabin, which was raised on blocks about three feet off the ground. She patted the step beside her and motioned to Ursula.
"Come here and sit with me. I need to ask you some things, Ursula." The fortyish woman's tone was going to brook no resistance; neither was it unfriendly. Ursula complied.
"Ursula, I need to ask you some personal questions and maybe to give you some advice, okay?"
The grave tone was a bit disturbing. Ursula nodded, her bright red braid flashing fire in the clear afternoon's sun.
"Ursula, has your mother explained to you about the birds and the bees?"
Ursula nodded. "She explained about men and women and -- " She blushed.
"You can say it; this is between us."
"Sex." It was a whisper.
"Good. So you know what men have?"
"She told me."
"And you know what women and men do. Good. Now, do you know what a period is -- the menstruation?"
"Yes. I know it's going to happen someday."
"Good. But not yet for you?"
"No."
The woman nodded gravely. She was so big, Ursula thought, almost like the bear she'd seen in the Central Park Zoo, but she seemed gentle, too.
"Ursula, your breasts are already very developed. You should wear a brassiere. Do you have one?"
She shook her head. "My mother said no girl so young needs one -- but I think I do, I really do!"
"So do I." She sighed. "This happens too much these days. At least your mother explained the facts of sex to you, but she should recognize that you are already developing and need a bra. You are still young and very firm, but the bouncing and all -- " She stared at Ursula. "You would have boys all over you."
"But there aren't any boys here!"
"No matter. There are some men and even if there weren't, you are going back in two weeks to...Brooklyn, yes, and there are boys there."
"Oh, yes!" she said a bit too exuberantly.
Mrs. Wollman laughed. "I see you've noticed! Good! That's healthy and normal -- but difficult for someone who's only a month past twelve years old. You have a boyfriend?"
Ursula felt the hot blood in her face again. "Well, not really, I mean, I really like him and stuff but, well, I'm just a kid..."
"I think I understand." The woman's arm went around her shoulders, urging her to stand. "Come with me."
"Where?"
"You are going to change into the clothes you wore when you got here and you and I are going to drive into town -- " Harrisburg was about fifteen miles away. " -- and I'm going to buy you a bra or two."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Thank you!" Ursula hugged the woman impulsively and noted, curiously, that Mrs. Wollman's face was red when Ursula released her.
When the woman returned to collect Ursula, she had three other girls with her. All had the same "problem" -- and one of them had it in spades. Ursula asked and Mrs. Wollman explained that with every busload, there were three or four girls whose parents weren't prepared to admit what they could see. The camp routinely laid out the money for the undergarments and then tacked it onto the parents' bill. There'd never been a problem, yet.
They parked behind Troutman's in downtown Harrisburg and entered through a back door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY. In the Lingerie Department, the impossibly old and wrinkled saleslady greeted Mrs. WOllman warmly and ruefully. The old woman expertly surveyed the girls, disappeared and returned moments later with four boxes, then ushered the girls into dressing rooms.
The simple, white cotton bra fit perfectly, with maybe a little room to spare. "For growth," the old woman explained. "You are going to develop a large bust very quickly. And as soon as the cups or straps start to leave welts in your skin, you complain and make sure your parents buy you more, and make sure they fit. It's okay to be a little loose, but not too tight." Ursula thanked her. The quintet left the same way they'd entered, but with less bouncing, and returned to the camp.
Mrs. Wollman promptly became Chief WOllman and they spent the rest of the day catching up with their roommates in exercises, volleyball, prayer, badminton, dinner, singing and canoeing, more prayer and finally...
...sleep.
When Ursula woke, she realized that playing with herself wasn't going to be a problem in this environment. By the time she got to bed each day, she was too tired for anything but sleep.
The two weeks came and went with amazing rapidity. Suddenly, it was departure day and she found herself unaccountably crying as she said good-byes to her roommates and the various activity leaders and -- especially -- to Mrs. Wollman. The first part of the bus trip back was obscured by tears and the second part was lost in wondering what she would do when she saw Daniel again -- and if he'd still bother to give her the time of day.
She needn't have worried, though. A week after getting home -- and three days after her mother's curt questioning on the brassieres -- Ursula was drafted into service at a Church cake sale. It was a major fund-raising event and everyone was impressed into duty. Including Jerry, whose parents had a lot of money -- his father was a doctor -- and who was really handsome and 18 and had a bright red Mustang. A Mustang convertible. She couldn't help but think how jealous the others on the block would be if this cute hunk picked her up in -- not only a car, but -- a Mustang convertible that was fire-engine red!
So when he got around to asking how she was, she lied.
"Sixteen."
"Hmmmm -- don't think I've seen you around here before." He kept glancing surreptitiously at her little white blouse, which was so well- filled with her bra-clad breasts. "New?"
"No, but I don't work at these things much." She glanced around at the crowd of (generally paunchy) middle-aged people knowingly and looked to him for agreement.
He nodded in conspiratorial understanding.
"Besides, my parents -- " She pronounced it as if it were a cross she had to bear. " -- think I'm too young to mix with other people...I mean, to be out where boys would see me."
"Too young?" He laughed a stage-laugh.
Ursula was glancing quickly around. She was the only one at the table where the layer cakes were sold, for the moment. Layer cakes were slow movers in midsummer. Lucky for her. But she didn't need someone coming up and patting her on the head right at the moment.
They exchanged idle chitchat. Having brazenly lied once -- for the first time in her life -- about her age, Ursula carefully played a little game of evasion to avoid being pinned down on anything else that had to do with the issue. And, to her astonishment, she found herself enjoying the way she got away with it and Jerry's ready willingness to buy increasingly outrageous equivocations for the chance to stay near her and keep stealing peeks at her well-filled blouse.
And then she spotted Roxanne's father approaching.
He was a small, swarthy, wiry man who was not -- Thank Heavens! -- terribly bright. But he was warm and friendly and dedicated and he was Just Checking to see that everything was okay. Ursula reported that business was slow -- as Jerry had faded quickly into the crowd -- and Roxanne's father finally moved along, after a promise to provide relief for her at the big, still-laden, folding table.
As soon as he left, Jerry returned and offered her a ride in his Red Mustang Convertible.
Maybe, she thought, if Daniel saw her pulling up to the kerb in a Red Mustang Convertible driven by this cute hunk of an older -- even older than Him -- man, he would get jealous. At least Daniel would stop thinking of her as a kid.
"I'd like that," she said, and then bent from the waste over the table, enjoying the way Jerry's big blue eyes went to the exposed expanse of her (bra-clad) cleavage. "A lot!"
"At three? In back -- on Meserole?"
She smiled -- seductively, she hoped -- and nodded.
"See ya' then, honey."
It was only at ten to three that she began worrying about what he was expecting from her.
But when the time approached, Ursula knew she couldn't duck. He'd easily discover her true identity and then she would really be scorned as a little kid and worse -- what Roxanne had called "a tease."
Well, she told herself, she'd wanted to learn the ways of the older and, presumably, wiser...and she scurried out the back door at the appointed hour.
He was there in the Fire-Engine Red Mustang Convertible.
Ursula took a deep breath, meaning to calm herself, instead only reminding Jerry of the attributes that had first attracted him -- those and the legend that redheads were really hot to trot -- and hurried to the waiting car. And Jerry, true to form, popped the clutch, laid a patch and zoomed her off toward the place where all the guys went to Do It: on Gardner Avenue, where the City of New York parked the street- sweeping machines.

From: Anonymous@anonymous.com (Anonymous) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: Ursula (3/5) Date: 26 Aug 92 02:07:30 GMT

For 99 percent of those who can read, this is a needless reminder, so I address this to the one percent.
If you enjoyed this story and/or appreciate the time and effort I put into writing it, there's a simple way for you to quietly show that appreciation -- by acting as a responsible BBSer. That means:
Don't let any minors read this;
Don't send it to any BBS that wouldn't welcome it. You may not agree with the SysOp's restriction on x-rated files or stories involving people under 19 (21 in some states), but that's the SysOp's perogative and as a guest/subscriber/user of his or her BBS, you are honor-bound to respect the stated restrictions;
Don't change or modify the file name or the text itself; that's a cheat and we both know it.

On a personal note, I ask you not to remove either this afterward or my handle.

Thanks, in advance.

Ursula is the explicit tale of a girl exploring her newly emerging sexuality as she enters adolescence. If such things offend you, please read no farther.

Everything you are about to read is probably fiction.

Ursula by Friar Dave

Chapter Four

It was a midnight-blue Cadillac convertible and the hood was down.
"It's my brother's," he explained. "He said I could use it when he's not on leave. He got drafted."
John had cleaned up considerably. He was wearing clean jeans and a regular shirt, with buttons. He was still wearing his black leather shoes with the raised heels and the pointed toes -- "guinea stompers" was what they were called in the neighborhood. Ursula wore a dark brown year-old skirt that was fashionably too short for her and a matching blouse with short sleeves that was more recent. The color set off her hair and eyes beautifully, Roxanne had told her. She was wearing one of her new bras beneath the blouse.
They didn't talk much once he got on the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway because at the speeds he drove, they couldn't hear each other. They reached Coney Island in a half-hour and were in the midway by two.
John really didn't seem like a bad person. In fact, he seemed nice. He said "Please," "Thank you" and "Excuse me" when appropriate, didn't interrupt when she was speaking and seemed to genuinely listen to what she said. He worked when he could as a truck mechanic and sometimes got some day work as a furniture mover or painter. He'd dropped out of high school -- "Cause they didn't teach anything I could really, y'know, use" -- but thought maybe he'd go a trade school and learn welding or something where could make good money.
He bought her a genuine Nathan's hotdog on the boardwalk and cotton candy and licorice, and he took her on all the rides. She regretted the junk food when they rode the Tilt-a-Whirl, but didn't lose it. There was a small petting zoo that she simply adored, though Johnny seemed annoyed and embarrassed at the way the goat kept sniffing his crotch.
On the big roller coaster, he insisted they sit in the first car. She screamed and shrieked and clutched him in terror and she loved it. And she noticed when she got off that her nipples ached and she was a little wet. She was having no part of the parachute jump, though.
On the big Ferris wheel, he had his arm around her, and when they paused at the top, he kissed her.
It was a good, hungry, expert kiss and it was the whole nine yards, tongue and all. Her breath became shallow and fast and when his hand found its way to her bra-and-blouse-clad breast, she welcomed it, thrusting herself into his grip. He found her nipple quickly and pinched it, a little roughly, but still knowledgeably. She sighed into his mouth.
His hand slid down and he pulled her shirtwaist out of her skirt. He slid the hand back up, this time under her blouse, and cupped her tit. He squeezed slightly and she groaned and he groaned, too.
His other hand went around her back and through her blouse he managed to unsnap her bra.
Ursula was shocked. She couldn't undo it that easily, herself.
His other hand went beneath the bra and she felt his fingers on her bare flesh and she knew that if he didn't stop, she was going soak her panties and skirt.
The wheel jerked and they broke off for a moment. She put her hand over his and pressed it against her tit. "I like that," she said.
"I want to make it with you, baby."
"Here?"
"I don't care -- anywhere!"
She shivered at the naked lust in his voice. He took her hand and led it to the crotch of her jeans. His cock felt awfully hard and awfully big.
She squeezed it. She felt the juices running out of her.
"Oh, yeah!" he moaned. "Keep doing that and I'll cum for you!"
And something in the way he said that -- as if she was totally in control of him -- really turned her on more than she'd imagined possible.
"I'll do better than that," she murmured, still gripping his rigid 19-year-old cock. "But not here."
"Where?" His voice was agonized.
"What time is it?"
"Tine? Tine? What the -- " He looked around. On top of the penny arcade was a clock. "Quarter past three."
"My folks come home at six. Can you get us back to my nice empty apartment by four?"
He stared at her numbly, then shook himself. He leaned over the side of the car and yelled, "Yo! Get us down! She's gettin' sick up here! Yo!"
"Awright, awright, awright..." someone muttered below as the wheel began its ponderous turning. Ursula quickly patted the base of her blouse down, knowing that only if it was loose would it conceal the disarray of the bra beneath. By the time their car reached the debarkation, she was groaning pitifully and holding her hand to her mouth as if fearful she was going to toss her cookies.
"Not here, take the barf someplace else," ordered the swarthy, surly attendant. Johnny held her around the waist as they hurried out of the midway and back to the car.
Unfortunately, they hit a traffic jam on the Expressway. At four o'clock they hadn't even reached Brooklyn Heights and Ursula knew it was hopeless. Johnny was muttering fiercely.
"You can come over tomorrow, you know," she said. "Around one o'clock? We'd have the whole afternoon." She said it as seductively as she could.
The lump in his crotch hadn't abated. "Baby, that sounds great -- but I want you so bad right now I feel like it's gonna explode!"
She scooted across the seat next to him and he put his arm around her. He let hand dangle and cupped her breast. Her nipple hardened instantly.
"I want you, too," she cooed. "Bad. But maybe I can help -- "
She put her hand on the iron bar of his cock and squeezed. He groaned and she pulled a little bit. He groaned louder. She unzipped his tight jeans and reached inside his jeans and his boxer shorts and grabbed his naked cock. He groaned still louder.
And she began jerking him off.
"Oh, shit, yeah," he hissed as they rolled along at a steady five miles-per-hour.
She remembered what she'd read and jerked faster and then she felt his dick swell even more and start spasming. She could feel his cock jerk as he came. She got some on her hand and it was hotter than she'd expected -- and more copious.
"Oh, yeah, baby, do that for me!"
When he finally finished, she sniffed the stuff on her hand. Odd smell, she thought. Some of the girls in the book had sucked and swallowed this stuff, so she licked a little of it. It didn't taste great, but it wasn't too bad, either -- and he kept watching her lick at it, so she fastidiously licked it all off and then smiled at him.
"You're giving me another hard-on doing that," he said.
"Save it for tomorrow?"
"You can count on that, baby!"
And just like that, there was a break in the traffic. He gunned the accelerator and shot into the opening and they speeded past the wreck that had caused the tie-up and made it back to the park by a quarter to five. Ursula gave him a quick, but urgent, kiss before climbing out of the car and walked home through the park.
Her pussy was wet.

Roxanne wanted to know all about her date and Ursula told her a lot of it. But Roxanne knew there was more and kept pestering her. Ursula's resolve began to crumble and finally: "Well, yeah, we made out on the Ferris wheel."
"Yeah? Did you soul kiss?"
Ursula looked at the closed door of her room. It was almost eight o'clock and both her parents were home. Her father would never question her activities, but she didn't put eavesdropping past her mother, not for a moment. Ursula got up from her seat on the bed and motioned for Roxanne to sit with her near the corner farthest from the door.
"Well?"
"Yes! It was lovely! I got so excited!"
"Did he feel you up, too? Like, did he grab your knobs?"
Ursula tilted her head slowly from side to side. "Sort of. He touched my breasts, but he didn't really grab them. It was nice."
"Wow, and right up there on the Ferris wheel..."
"And he got his hand inside me bra."
Ursula's eyes widened. "Really? Was there room?"
"After he unhooked the back -- right through my blouse!"
Ursula shook her hand rapidly in admiration. "He really knew what he was doing!"
"Then he played with my nipple -- he even pinched it a little -- and I thought I was just going to have an orgasm from that! He's so hot!" She closed her eyes and shivered with the pleasure of the memory -- and anticipation of the next day.
"You sure are lucky! I can't believe it can feel that good to have someone pinch your nipple. Whenever the boys grab my knobs, they leave black and blue marks."
"Sure, it can feel nice. Didn't you ever play with your own?" Ursula asked softly.
Roxanne shrugged. "Sure, but boys don't know how to do it." She looked Ursula right in the eyes. "Not the way a girl knows how." She blushed. Ursula was surprised, because Roxanne never blushed. "I can't believe the way that sounded," Roxanne said. "Like I wanted a girl to, well, you know."
Ursula took her friend's hand. "Maybe sometime I could show you what it's like, when I know better."
Roxanne looked troubled for a moment. "I -- I don't know. It sounds kind of weird, two girls touching each other's tits." She laughed softly. "Besides, I haven't got that much to touch. I'd feel like one of us was getting a better deal."
"Which one?"
"I don't know that, either." Roxanne laughed a little louder. "Are you going to see him again?"
"Who? Oh!" Ursula laughed, too. She'd been lost for a moment in imagining what it would be like to feel Roxanne's lips on her breasts, her soft hands on her thighs and stomach and...other places. Now she was jolted back to the sensual reality of what she was planning.
"Yes," she said. "Tomorrow."
"Really? What're you going to tell your folks?"
"They won't be home. He's coming here at one."
It took a moment for the comprehension to dawn on Roxanne and then she looked like she was going to burst. "You mean, you're going to have him come over here, alone, when there's nobody else -- " She covered her gaping mouth with her palm and her eyes widened till they seemed set to pop out of her head. "You're going to, you know, do it?"
"I want him so bad," Ursula sighed. "I've been wet between my legs all day -- even now!"
Roxanne stared at her.
"I want to try some of the stuff in that book! It sounds so hot! I want him to lick me down there and I want to suck his thing!"
"And have him shoot that stuff in your mouth? Euuuuuw!"
Ursula shook her head. "It doesn't taste that bad, actually -- "
"How do you know?" Roxanne demanded, her hand gripping Ursula's forearm. "Did you already do that?"
Ursula explained about the handjob in the car and licking her fingers afterward. "It wasn't pistachio-walnut ice cream, but it wasn't bad, either. Kind of salty and sharp, but really thick and hot, too. And I really liked the way he was like completely paying attention to me and what I was doing. While I was doing that with him, I was the only thing in the world that mattered and what I was doing was the most important thing in the world to him. I moved my fingers and he'd moan or sigh or gasp or tell me how good it felt. It made me very, very important. That turns me on."
"What if Daniel finds out?"
Ursula blinked in surprise. "What? How would he find out? You'd never tell him, would you?"
"Never, I promise. But what if he did find out?"
"Well, I...I don't know. He might think I was a slut and never talk to me." She thought it through. "I mean, there's not much he could do about it, except not talk to me."
"I don't know. My brother -- " Roxanne's brother was two years older and two years wilder. " -- told me the Stompers don't mess around with him. They told him not to start with him, that he can be really crazy. He thinks -- swear you'll never tell -- he thinks they're a little afraid of him."
"Of Daniel?" LIsa laughed. "That's silly. He won't even fight people."
"Yes, he will. You know Dennis and Eddy, from over by the projects?"
Ursula nodded. "I know their faces."
"Well, I saw them jump Daniel once. Big fat Eddy grabbed him and held him and Dennis hit him in the face with a baseball bat."
Ursula gasped.
"Yes, right across here -- " Roxanne traced her fingers across her cheekbone and saw. "Well, Daniel, he just blinked and then he like to went crazy. He just sort of bucked and got loose from Eddy and Dennis started running like crazy. Daniel picked Eddy up -- "
"Big fat Eddy? He picked him up?"
"I saw it. Like he was nothing. And he threw him over the fence into the greengrass reserve. Then he ran Danny down and punched him in the head. That's why Dennis has that scar on his forehead, from the stitches. I think he would have killed him if Dennis had tried to get up, but he's a chicken and he stayed down.
"You think he's just this nice guy because he doesn't act weird all the time and he reads books and he's polite and he's not always fighting. But I'll tell you something, Ursula -- I've seen him when he's mad and I can believe my brother when he says the Stompers are afraid of him. A guy you can hit in the face with a ball bat and and all it does is piss him off -- that's not someone to mess with. What do you think he might do if he found out about you and this guy?"
Ursula tried to sift through all the new information and finally came to her conclusion. "Nothing," she said. "Because he doesn't care about me at all. I'm nobody to him."
Roxanne stood, looking at her strangely. "Don't be too sure about that. And things can change, you know."

Ursula lay in her maiden's bed that night with her hand idly moving over her still-sopping pussy. Roxanne was right; she had never considered what He might think if He found out about her exploits. But he had never given any indication to her that he had the least interest in her. Besides, he wasn't the only guy in the world. There were others, and they thought she was sexy and attractive and wanted her. They were nice to her and took her places and drove her in nice cars with the tops down. They had hard cocks and some of them had knowing hands and tongues and, most important, they were available.
And, until September, Daniel was not. And even then, he wasn't all that available.
In the meantime --
She thought of Johnny, here, in this very bed with her. She thought of his hands on her breast and between her legs. She thought of his lips and tongue on hers and maybe -- no; certainly -- on her breasts. She wondered if she could get him to --
What was it the book had called it? "Gamahuche" her. That was it. Lick her pussy and clitoris.
Holding that thought, she rolled over and buried her face in the pillow and imagined Johnny -- or was it Father Clement? -- licking her pussy and then impaling her with his hard cock and dumping his hot semen into her clutching little pussy.

By noon the next day, Ursula was in high arousal. Her mother's wake-up knock on her door interrupted a vivid dream of Johnny insisting he wanted nothing more than to keep kissing her breasts and playing with her clitoris while she masturbated him to endless, impossible streams of semen that were steadily filling the bathtub in which she lay.
She found herself absent-mindedly caressing her pussy no matter what she was doing -- watching TV, brushing her teeth, surveying the contents of the refrigerator -- or where. She seemed unable to make her little cunt stop drooling and itching, and her nipples actually ached with their hardness. Pinching them, of course, did not relieve them.
At noon, she finally had to decide what to wear for his arrival. A nightie? That was out; all of her nighties had animals on them or were dramatically unattractive. Shorts and a shirt? Maybe, but they might make her look even younger and the last thing she wanted was for him to show up and suspect her lie. Finally, she decided that what seemed to draw boys most was her bust. She dug through her dresser drawer until she found the tanktop tee-shirt for camp workouts. She put it on and checked in the mirror.
Perfect. Her tits were so large that the too-small shirt only emphasized them. It was so tight, where it did cover her, that her breasts were almost visible through the tight material. And it didn't cover her completely. The armholes were stretched by her breasts so the sides of the firm, creamy swells were visible. She stepped into her yellow panties, snugging them around the chubby morsel of her pubis, and then pulled on her only pair of jeans -- bought with her saved allowance money and permitted only when she was going out in the cooler weather.
She checked herself in the mirror again, posing and turning. The jeans weren't as tight as she would have liked, but they were tight enough to show the wiggle of her tiny butt. Ursula was counting on Johnny's eyes never getting below her tits.
She braided her hair carefully, a tedious process, and then sat down to wait. Fifteen minutes, assuming he was on time. The clock seemed to pause longer and longer between ticks. Maybe it had stopped? If so, he was late -- or not coming.
She went to the living room, opening the window to watch for him. As soon as the window was open, she heard the rude BRRRRT of the doorbell. Ursula closed the window and scooted to the kitchen, pressing the button of the entrance buzzer and listening carefully for the downstairs door slamming back into place before relenting.
The shadow on the frosted, mesh-glass of the door to her apartment was his. She undid the locks and opened the door and he stepped quickly inside. "Hi, baby!"
She closed the door and leaned up on tip toes to kiss his cheek. "I'm glad you came."
"Yeah, well, uh, yeah." He looked her up and down nervously. His eyes went to her breasts, her face, her breasts, down the hallway, her breasts, into the master bedroom, her breasts, her face, her breasts. He rubbed his nose, brushed back his hair, danced from one foot to the other, brushed back his hair, put his hands in his pockets, took them out, brushed back his hair, scratched his arm, brushed back his hair and put his hands in his pockets. "Like, uh, you're all alone, huh?"
"Not anymore." She slipped her arm through his and led him toward the living room. He glanced nervously at the bed as they traversed the master bedroom. "Would you like a drink of water or something?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Sit here." She pushed him gently onto the big old couch. He looked all around the room. It was, of course, impeccably neat and clean. When she returned, carrying two glasses of water she smiled at him. "Johnny, I am really glad you came. I was thinking about you all night."
"Oh, yeah? You were, huh?"
She set the glasses down on the little occasional table in front of the couch, bending and enjoying the way his gaze focused on her tits. She could already see the lump hardening in his jeans.
Ursula straightened and went to the windows, drawing the curtains.
"What're you doing that for?" he asked suddenly, as if her movement made him even more nervous.
"Sunlight's bad for the carpet," she explained. "Besides, it's hot enough in her."
"Oh, yeah, right." He sipped the water cautiously. "So, uh, what've you been doing?"
"I told you," she said, stepped directly in front of him. She nudged his legs apart and stood between his knees. "Waiting for you." Her tits were right at his eye level and her nipples stuck out against the flimsy shirt as if trying to burrow through the cotton.
"Jeez."
She took the glass from him and slowly drank from it, upending the glass and putting her head back. She was purposely sloppy and half the water ran down her chin and onto her shirt, soaking it.
"Look familiar, Johnny?" She put the glass down. "Oh, my, I've gotten my shirt all wet. I better take it off before I catch a death of cold."
She put her hands at her waist and slowly, wiggling her hips gently, pulled the shirt upward. The water had soaked down below her breasts and the shirt clung damply to her skin as she pulled it upward. It felt like a huge kiss when it separated wetly from her skin.
She pulled it up and over her head, taking a long time about it, knowing the picture she presented -- she'd posed in the mirror that way often enough. Her arms high, her breasts were tautly raised and her nipples were swollen to hard points. She dropped the shirt on the table behind her and looked down.
"Touch me, Johnny -- I want it!"
His hands came up and covered her tits lightly, as if they were the delicate china that was their complexion and might shatter. He rubbed his thumbs over her nipples and she groaned and slowly brought her arms down to rest across his shoulders. He leaned forward and covered one nipple with his mouth, sucking and tonguing the turgid flesh avidly.
Suddenly, he pulled away and dropped his hands. "I shouldn't be doing this!"
"Why not?"
"Because you're -- I can't believe this -- you're only twelve! You're just a kid!"
She put her hands on either side of his face and drew it to her breasts. "A kid? Just a kid?"
"You're so damn sexy -- " He dove his face forward and licked and sucked her tits frantically, as if having gone this far, he was lost anyhow and might as well give in completely.
Ursula released a deep sigh of pleasure at what his mouth was doing, then another when she felt his arms go around her. His hands were all over her slim back, then dropping to squeeze her hard little butt through her jeans and panties. She brought her hands to her waist and unfastened and unzipped her jeans.
"Push them down?" she pleaded. "Please?"
She felt the jeans slide off her narrow hips and fall about her lanky thighs and finally catch around her ankles. She stepped out of them as he reached between her legs from behind and rubbed and prodded the panty-clad slit that was oozing so much juice in happy anticipation.
Ursula put her hands on his jaw and pulled him up from the couch. "Come with me to my bedroom," she said. Half-dazed, the tough gang- member let the nearly-naked 12-year-old nymphette lead him by the hand out of the living room. He hesitated in the master bedroom.
"Not here," she said. "In my bed, so it can be what I was imagining last night in my bed while I was playing with myself."
At her door, he said, "You play with yourself?"
"All the time." She led him inside and sat on her narrow bed. He would've looked around the room -- he'd never been in any girl's room except his older sister's, once, before she threw him out -- except she was distracting him irresistibly with what she was doing.
She was unbuckling his combat belt.
"Take off your shirt," she said. He pulled the sleeveless tee-shirt over his head, revealing a stringy, well-muscled body with a thick patch of dark hair on his chest. She ran one hand through it. "Nice," she whispered and kissed his belly. She kept kissing his belly as she returned to opening his pants. The zipper sounded very loud. She pushed his pants down to his ankles.
"Shoes," she said and he worked his way out of them without using his hands or loosening the laces.
His cock was making a tent of his boxer shorts. She put her hand into the opening and grabbed his meat and pulled it out.
It was, she thought, absolutely gorgeous. Six or seven inches long, almost too thick for her touch her thumb and forefinger around it and hard as iron in her grip. And hot! The glans was swollen and purple and unbelievably soft to her touch. She leaned forward and kissed it.
"Shit!" he gasped.
"You like that?"
"Yeah!"
She did it again, this time parting her lips a little and letting the tip of her little tongue work across the velvety smoothness.
"Damn-damn-damn-damn-" he moaned. He put his hands on her shoulders, caressing, then dropped lower to cup her ripe young tits.
She opened her lips, just as she read, and sucked his cock into her young mouth. When it hit the back of her mouth, she backed off. She gripped the shaft with one hand and began moving her mouth up and down on him, clasping him with her lips and sucking urgently. His hands went to her head and he started thrusting his hips at her -- too hard.
She jerked her head back. "No! I'll do this my way! You're hurting me that way!"
He shook his head, as if trying to clear it. "I'm sorry, baby, it just felt so good." He caressed her head and then put his hands on her shoulders. She took his cock back into her mouth and felt the tension in him as he fought the urge to resume fucking her face.
"Baby, you're gonna make me cum in your mouth," he warned.
She pulled back, releasing his thick prick with a pop. "Don't you want to?"
"Yeah, but, you know, I was thinking maybe you'd rather have me in you, or maybe you wouldn't want me to cum in your mouth."
"That's sweet, but I won't know if I like it until I try it, right?"
"You never did this before?" He sounded horrified. "Hey, you ain't a cherry, are you?"
"I'm no virgin," she said and he visibly relaxed. "But I never sucked a man before and I want to know what it's like." She kissed the underside of his glans. "So far, I like it!" And she started sucking again. She put her free hand between her own legs and began rubbing her pussy and clitoris through her wet panties. She was already close to cumming, herself, and knowing what a hot and nasty thing she was doing was turning her on even more.
Johnny began moaning urgently. His hands tightened carefully on her shoulders. She sucked harder and rubbed her tongue on the underside of his glans.
"I'm almost there, baby!"
She moaned around her mouthful of cock and jerked on his shaft.
"Oh, yeah!"
There was an eruption in her mouth. His cock swelled, lurched, and then he was shooting a powerful stream of that thick cream right into the hot suction of her mouth. Ursula squeezed her pussy, jerked on his cock, swallowed and sucked in another geyser -- and came herself. She moaned and writhed where she sat on her bed and sucked still more of the thick jism from him. It was so hot and so copious! He kept cumming and she tried to hold it in her mouth, but her cheeks bloated and she had to swallow. Shy jerked back hard on his cock, toward the base, and was rewarded with another blast of his cum. She knew she turned him on, because he came a lot for her.
Finally, even he had to slow his spurts. There were a few shots of reduced volume and then some dry spasms, but there was no more cum. She sucked as hard she could, wanting to be sure she milked every drop from his lovely dick, then she held his meat with two fingers and licked all around it.
She looked up and found him staring, slack-jawed at her.
As he looked down at the pretty 12-year-old face and mouth that had just drained him -- and she'd claimed it was her first time -- Johnny couldn't believe how sexy she was.
She watched him panting.
"Baby, you are the best!" he said. He caressed her face. She turned her head and kissed his hand. "How did you like it?"
She closed her eyes and shivered. "I'm not crazy about the taste, but it made me so hot to be sucking your -- your cock and doing something so nasty that I came, too, just rubbing my pussy."
His cock was only half-hard, but still stuck out of his boxer shorts. She pushed them off his legs, then helped his socks off. He had thick, dark brown hair around the base of his cock, and his balls looked -- well, strange. How odd to have part of you hanging outside your body like that, she thought. His scrotum and testicles looked like an afterthought by the designer.
Ursula lay back on the bed, knees bent at the edge and arms stretched over her head. His gaze went up and down her form, drinking it in. The way he looked at her made her even wetter. The way she looked to him started pumping erection-sustaining blood back into his teenaged cock.
"Wouldn't you like to come down here and touch me some more?"
"Hell, yes!" He lay down next to her and began running his hands over her tits. He played with her nipples and she put one arm around his shoulders.
"Kiss me?"
He looked at her oddly, with a hint of distaste. "You just sucked me off."
"If my lips are good enough for that, they're good enough for a kiss. Besides, it was your jism." She tilted her face up at him. "No kisses, no more sucking."
He looked troubled, but he complied. He kept his lips closed at first, then let his tongue penetrate her mouth only a little. Ursula clasped it with her lips and sucked his tongue, using hers to play with it. She could feel his resurrected hard-on pressed against her slender, irrepressibly moving thighs.
When he broke off the kiss, she said. "Taste okay?"
"A little funny. But, I mean, you know -- I don't want to turn into a faggot."
She gave him a puzzled look.
"You know -- a queer, a homo. Guys who like the taste of jism are faggots."
"So I'm a faggot?"
He looked truly troubled by the question. "You can't be no faggot; you're a girl."
"You noticed!"
"Yeah..." And he bent to kiss and lick her upthrust breasts, laving the precocious thrust of her tits with his tongue and lips. He paused at her nipples to suck hard, then soft, then twirl his tongue on them. She caught his hand in hers and pushed it down to her waist and guided it inside her panties.
He quickly found her slit and thrust a long finger deep inside, working it in and out in a fucking motion. What she liked was the way his palm was pressed against her clitoris. At last -- someone else's hand was on her magic button! She writhed and ground her cunt against his hand, reveling in several minor orgasms from the combination of his lips on her tits and her hand against her clitty and, as afterthought, the minor stimulation of his finger in her tight cunt.
Upon which he remarked, thusly:
"Damn all, but you are tight! And wet!"
"I've been wet since yesterday."
He bent and pulled her panties down. He frowned.
"What?"
"It's -- I don't know. You don't have any hair down there. You're like a little girl."
"I am a little girl, you dope," she said playfully.
"But you got such big knobs and you sucked -- Where did you learn to suck like that?"
She noticed that he'd put his hand back on her abdomen, nearly covering it.
"From a book."
"Must be a hell of a book. You got it?"
"Sure." She turned and reached between her mattress and box spring. She withdrew the book and handed it to him. He immediately opened it.
"Hey, there ain't no pictures!"
"Sure there are," she said, sitting up with the easy limberness of youth. "In here." She tapped the side of his head.
"Huh?"
"Reading this puts plenty of pictures in your head."
"Yeah?" He closed it and looked at the cover. She watched his lips moving -- slowly -- as he puzzled out the words. "Yeah?"
She took the book and opened it at random: " -- couldn't believe the ease with which she accepted the mighty stanchion. His enormous prick had nearly split her in two, yet her friend seemed to accommodate it easily and already made the happy sounds of pleasure as he fucked her young cunt with abandon -- "
She closed the book. His eyes looked a bit glazed. He said, "You learned to suck cock like that reading that book?"
She nodded.
"I'll be damned."
"Enough literature for now," she said, laying back and reaching up to put her hands on either side of his face. "I want you to suck my nipples."
"Now you're talking!" He happily dived back to mouthing her tits. His hand found its way, without urging, to her cunt. Her hairlessness seemed no problem at the moment.
Soon, she was writhing and bucking beneath his kisses and fondlings. Finally, she couldn't bear it any more.
"Johnny! I want you to do something to me!"
"Anything!"
"I want you to -- to gamahuche me!"
He blinked at her. "What? Gamawhat?"
"I want you to -- to lick my pussy and kiss my clitty!"
"Kiss your what?"
"My clitoris!"
"What's that? And I ain't about to lick no pussies, no way. That's where girls pee!"
"But I sucked you!" She was shocked at his resistance and doubly shocked at his ignorance.
"That's...right. But it's different."
She could see she was facing an invincible ignorance. By way of reply, she pulled his head down to her breasts and enjoyed his fingering and tit-sucking.
Eventually, he climbed over her. She reached between them and guided his cock to the entrance of her quim and they both groaned as he worked his way into her tight little cunt. It stretched her 12-year-old pussy immensely, but it didn't -- quite -- hurt. She was very wet and very horny. She wrapped her legs around the backs of his thighs and pulled herself up and onto him.
He immediately began flailing away, which was great, and let his entire weight rest on her, which was not so great. She finally convinced him to stop long enough to let her wheeze out that he had to hold himself up on his arms so she didn't suffocate. During this brief interlude, he continued pounding his cock into her as hard as he could.
But it felt good -- it felt very, very good -- and she started cumming quickly. Again and again, she reached a peak, mellowed slightly, then peaked again. He knew when she was cumming, too, because he moaned about her cunt sucking on him.
When she slipped her hand down to her crotch and let her fingers lightly rest on his pistoning prick, he moaned at the touch and thrust all the harder. But when she put her fingers on her clitoris and started massaging it, her orgasms became still more powerful, more compelling, her cunt locking down on him and pulling him deeper into her. He let out a roar and drove into her as hard as he could and held himself there. Her cunt was coating his cock and she could feel his spasms through her own as he poured his hot, teenaged load deep into her quivering little body.
She was already juicy and his semen quickly filled and overflowed her prick-packed vagina. The stuff ran down over her upturned ass cheeks, slicking the small, hard masses of lean muscle. When he gave out a death-rattle groan and began collapsing on her, she was still totally gripped in the wracking throes of orgasm.
It took long seconds to work herself out from under his all-but- inert bulk weighing down on her, but she managed. As he snored, she stood on quivering legs and checked the clock: 3:15. Ursula looked down at his muscular, but unconscious, form and sighed. This was a lot of fun. She had cum just as much as she'd thought she might, and part of it was the knowing that he would do whatever she wanted, as long as she kept making him feel good.
But he had downright refused to do something she really craved and he was as stupid as a stone. She corrected herself. Actually, he might be very bright; he was merely illiterate -- which to her was a damning quality.
Still, she could have this fun with him.
She went to the bathroom. She was going to use the hose to wash herself out, then wake him and thank him and see him on his way. He was really nice enough and well-meaning, but he wasn't what she wanted. She was sure there were plenty of Johnnys out there with whom she could have fun, manipulating them into pleasuring her. She wanted a man who would do the things she liked because he wanted to, a man who was at least as smart and well-read as she was and willing to make her cum a lot because that was what he wanted, too -- to make her cum.
As she used her home-made douche on herself, Ursula told herself there was no point in ducking it any more. What she wanted was a Daniel.
Well, she told herself, I'm going to have him!

From: Anonymous@anonymous.com (Anonymous) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: Ursula (4/5) Date: 26 Aug 92 02:08:35 GMT

For 99 percent of those who can read, this is a needless reminder, so I address this to the one percent.
If you enjoyed this story and/or appreciate the time and effort I put into writing it, there's a simple way for you to quietly show that appreciation -- by acting as a responsible BBSer. That means:
Don't let any minors read this;
Don't send it to any BBS that wouldn't welcome it. You may not agree with the SysOp's restriction on x-rated files or stories involving people under 19 (21 in some states), but that's the SysOp's perogative and as a guest/subscriber/user of his or her BBS, you are honor-bound to respect the stated restrictions;
Don't change or modify the file name or the text itself; that's a cheat and we both know it.

On a personal note, I ask you not to remove either this afterward or my handle.

Thanks, in advance.

Ursula is the explicit tale of a girl exploring her newly emerging sexuality as she enters adolescence. If such things offend you, please read no farther.

Everything you are about to read is probably fiction.

Ursula by Friar Dave

Chapter Four

It was a midnight-blue Cadillac convertible and the hood was down.
"It's my brother's," he explained. "He said I could use it when he's not on leave. He got drafted."
John had cleaned up considerably. He was wearing clean jeans and a regular shirt, with buttons. He was still wearing his black leather shoes with the raised heels and the pointed toes -- "guinea stompers" was what they were called in the neighborhood. Ursula wore a dark brown year-old skirt that was fashionably too short for her and a matching blouse with short sleeves that was more recent. The color set off her hair and eyes beautifully, Roxanne had told her. She was wearing one of her new bras beneath the blouse.
They didn't talk much once he got on the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway because at the speeds he drove, they couldn't hear each other. They reached Coney Island in a half-hour and were in the midway by two.
John really didn't seem like a bad person. In fact, he seemed nice. He said "Please," "Thank you" and "Excuse me" when appropriate, didn't interrupt when she was speaking and seemed to genuinely listen to what she said. He worked when he could as a truck mechanic and sometimes got some day work as a furniture mover or painter. He'd dropped out of high school -- "Cause they didn't teach anything I could really, y'know, use" -- but thought maybe he'd go a trade school and learn welding or something where could make good money.
He bought her a genuine Nathan's hotdog on the boardwalk and cotton candy and licorice, and he took her on all the rides. She regretted the junk food when they rode the Tilt-a-Whirl, but didn't lose it. There was a small petting zoo that she simply adored, though Johnny seemed annoyed and embarrassed at the way the goat kept sniffing his crotch.
On the big roller coaster, he insisted they sit in the first car. She screamed and shrieked and clutched him in terror and she loved it. And she noticed when she got off that her nipples ached and she was a little wet. She was having no part of the parachute jump, though.
On the big Ferris wheel, he had his arm around her, and when they paused at the top, he kissed her.
It was a good, hungry, expert kiss and it was the whole nine yards, tongue and all. Her breath became shallow and fast and when his hand found its way to her bra-and-blouse-clad breast, she welcomed it, thrusting herself into his grip. He found her nipple quickly and pinched it, a little roughly, but still knowledgeably. She sighed into his mouth.
His hand slid down and he pulled her shirtwaist out of her skirt. He slid the hand back up, this time under her blouse, and cupped her tit. He squeezed slightly and she groaned and he groaned, too.
His other hand went around her back and through her blouse he managed to unsnap her bra.
Ursula was shocked. She couldn't undo it that easily, herself.
His other hand went beneath the bra and she felt his fingers on her bare flesh and she knew that if he didn't stop, she was going soak her panties and skirt.
The wheel jerked and they broke off for a moment. She put her hand over his and pressed it against her tit. "I like that," she said.
"I want to make it with you, baby."
"Here?"
"I don't care -- anywhere!"
She shivered at the naked lust in his voice. He took her hand and led it to the crotch of her jeans. His cock felt awfully hard and awfully big.
She squeezed it. She felt the juices running out of her.
"Oh, yeah!" he moaned. "Keep doing that and I'll cum for you!"
And something in the way he said that -- as if she was totally in control of him -- really turned her on more than she'd imagined possible.
"I'll do better than that," she murmured, still gripping his rigid 19-year-old cock. "But not here."
"Where?" His voice was agonized.
"What time is it?"
"Tine? Tine? What the -- " He looked around. On top of the penny arcade was a clock. "Quarter past three."
"My folks come home at six. Can you get us back to my nice empty apartment by four?"
He stared at her numbly, then shook himself. He leaned over the side of the car and yelled, "Yo! Get us down! She's gettin' sick up here! Yo!"
"Awright, awright, awright..." someone muttered below as the wheel began its ponderous turning. Ursula quickly patted the base of her blouse down, knowing that only if it was loose would it conceal the disarray of the bra beneath. By the time their car reached the debarkation, she was groaning pitifully and holding her hand to her mouth as if fearful she was going to toss her cookies.
"Not here, take the barf someplace else," ordered the swarthy, surly attendant. Johnny held her around the waist as they hurried out of the midway and back to the car.
Unfortunately, they hit a traffic jam on the Expressway. At four o'clock they hadn't even reached Brooklyn Heights and Ursula knew it was hopeless. Johnny was muttering fiercely.
"You can come over tomorrow, you know," she said. "Around one o'clock? We'd have the whole afternoon." She said it as seductively as she could.
The lump in his crotch hadn't abated. "Baby, that sounds great -- but I want you so bad right now I feel like it's gonna explode!"
She scooted across the seat next to him and he put his arm around her. He let hand dangle and cupped her breast. Her nipple hardened instantly.
"I want you, too," she cooed. "Bad. But maybe I can help -- "
She put her hand on the iron bar of his cock and squeezed. He groaned and she pulled a little bit. He groaned louder. She unzipped his tight jeans and reached inside his jeans and his boxer shorts and grabbed his naked cock. He groaned still louder.
And she began jerking him off.
"Oh, shit, yeah," he hissed as they rolled along at a steady five miles-per-hour.
She remembered what she'd read and jerked faster and then she felt his dick swell even more and start spasming. She could feel his cock jerk as he came. She got some on her hand and it was hotter than she'd expected -- and more copious.
"Oh, yeah, baby, do that for me!"
When he finally finished, she sniffed the stuff on her hand. Odd smell, she thought. Some of the girls in the book had sucked and swallowed this stuff, so she licked a little of it. It didn't taste great, but it wasn't too bad, either -- and he kept watching her lick at it, so she fastidiously licked it all off and then smiled at him.
"You're giving me another hard-on doing that," he said.
"Save it for tomorrow?"
"You can count on that, baby!"
And just like that, there was a break in the traffic. He gunned the accelerator and shot into the opening and they speeded past the wreck that had caused the tie-up and made it back to the park by a quarter to five. Ursula gave him a quick, but urgent, kiss before climbing out of the car and walked home through the park.
Her pussy was wet.

Roxanne wanted to know all about her date and Ursula told her a lot of it. But Roxanne knew there was more and kept pestering her. Ursula's resolve began to crumble and finally: "Well, yeah, we made out on the Ferris wheel."
"Yeah? Did you soul kiss?"
Ursula looked at the closed door of her room. It was almost eight o'clock and both her parents were home. Her father would never question her activities, but she didn't put eavesdropping past her mother, not for a moment. Ursula got up from her seat on the bed and motioned for Roxanne to sit with her near the corner farthest from the door.
"Well?"
"Yes! It was lovely! I got so excited!"
"Did he feel you up, too? Like, did he grab your knobs?"
Ursula tilted her head slowly from side to side. "Sort of. He touched my breasts, but he didn't really grab them. It was nice."
"Wow, and right up there on the Ferris wheel..."
"And he got his hand inside me bra."
Ursula's eyes widened. "Really? Was there room?"
"After he unhooked the back -- right through my blouse!"
Ursula shook her hand rapidly in admiration. "He really knew what he was doing!"
"Then he played with my nipple -- he even pinched it a little -- and I thought I was just going to have an orgasm from that! He's so hot!" She closed her eyes and shivered with the pleasure of the memory -- and anticipation of the next day.
"You sure are lucky! I can't believe it can feel that good to have someone pinch your nipple. Whenever the boys grab my knobs, they leave black and blue marks."
"Sure, it can feel nice. Didn't you ever play with your own?" Ursula asked softly.
Roxanne shrugged. "Sure, but boys don't know how to do it." She looked Ursula right in the eyes. "Not the way a girl knows how." She blushed. Ursula was surprised, because Roxanne never blushed. "I can't believe the way that sounded," Roxanne said. "Like I wanted a girl to, well, you know."
Ursula took her friend's hand. "Maybe sometime I could show you what it's like, when I know better."
Roxanne looked troubled for a moment. "I -- I don't know. It sounds kind of weird, two girls touching each other's tits." She laughed softly. "Besides, I haven't got that much to touch. I'd feel like one of us was getting a better deal."
"Which one?"
"I don't know that, either." Roxanne laughed a little louder. "Are you going to see him again?"
"Who? Oh!" Ursula laughed, too. She'd been lost for a moment in imagining what it would be like to feel Roxanne's lips on her breasts, her soft hands on her thighs and stomach and...other places. Now she was jolted back to the sensual reality of what she was planning.
"Yes," she said. "Tomorrow."
"Really? What're you going to tell your folks?"
"They won't be home. He's coming here at one."
It took a moment for the comprehension to dawn on Roxanne and then she looked like she was going to burst. "You mean, you're going to have him come over here, alone, when there's nobody else -- " She covered her gaping mouth with her palm and her eyes widened till they seemed set to pop out of her head. "You're going to, you know, do it?"
"I want him so bad," Ursula sighed. "I've been wet between my legs all day -- even now!"
Roxanne stared at her.
"I want to try some of the stuff in that book! It sounds so hot! I want him to lick me down there and I want to suck his thing!"
"And have him shoot that stuff in your mouth? Euuuuuw!"
Ursula shook her head. "It doesn't taste that bad, actually -- "
"How do you know?" Roxanne demanded, her hand gripping Ursula's forearm. "Did you already do that?"
Ursula explained about the handjob in the car and licking her fingers afterward. "It wasn't pistachio-walnut ice cream, but it wasn't bad, either. Kind of salty and sharp, but really thick and hot, too. And I really liked the way he was like completely paying attention to me and what I was doing. While I was doing that with him, I was the only thing in the world that mattered and what I was doing was the most important thing in the world to him. I moved my fingers and he'd moan or sigh or gasp or tell me how good it felt. It made me very, very important. That turns me on."
"What if Daniel finds out?"
Ursula blinked in surprise. "What? How would he find out? You'd never tell him, would you?"
"Never, I promise. But what if he did find out?"
"Well, I...I don't know. He might think I was a slut and never talk to me." She thought it through. "I mean, there's not much he could do about it, except not talk to me."
"I don't know. My brother -- " Roxanne's brother was two years older and two years wilder. " -- told me the Stompers don't mess around with him. They told him not to start with him, that he can be really crazy. He thinks -- swear you'll never tell -- he thinks they're a little afraid of him."
"Of Daniel?" LIsa laughed. "That's silly. He won't even fight people."
"Yes, he will. You know Dennis and Eddy, from over by the projects?"
Ursula nodded. "I know their faces."
"Well, I saw them jump Daniel once. Big fat Eddy grabbed him and held him and Dennis hit him in the face with a baseball bat."
Ursula gasped.
"Yes, right across here -- " Roxanne traced her fingers across her cheekbone and saw. "Well, Daniel, he just blinked and then he like to went crazy. He just sort of bucked and got loose from Eddy and Dennis started running like crazy. Daniel picked Eddy up -- "
"Big fat Eddy? He picked him up?"
"I saw it. Like he was nothing. And he threw him over the fence into the greengrass reserve. Then he ran Danny down and punched him in the head. That's why Dennis has that scar on his forehead, from the stitches. I think he would have killed him if Dennis had tried to get up, but he's a chicken and he stayed down.
"You think he's just this nice guy because he doesn't act weird all the time and he reads books and he's polite and he's not always fighting. But I'll tell you something, Ursula -- I've seen him when he's mad and I can believe my brother when he says the Stompers are afraid of him. A guy you can hit in the face with a ball bat and and all it does is piss him off -- that's not someone to mess with. What do you think he might do if he found out about you and this guy?"
Ursula tried to sift through all the new information and finally came to her conclusion. "Nothing," she said. "Because he doesn't care about me at all. I'm nobody to him."
Roxanne stood, looking at her strangely. "Don't be too sure about that. And things can change, you know."

Ursula lay in her maiden's bed that night with her hand idly moving over her still-sopping pussy. Roxanne was right; she had never considered what He might think if He found out about her exploits. But he had never given any indication to her that he had the least interest in her. Besides, he wasn't the only guy in the world. There were others, and they thought she was sexy and attractive and wanted her. They were nice to her and took her places and drove her in nice cars with the tops down. They had hard cocks and some of them had knowing hands and tongues and, most important, they were available.
And, until September, Daniel was not. And even then, he wasn't all that available.
In the meantime --
She thought of Johnny, here, in this very bed with her. She thought of his hands on her breast and between her legs. She thought of his lips and tongue on hers and maybe -- no; certainly -- on her breasts. She wondered if she could get him to --
What was it the book had called it? "Gamahuche" her. That was it. Lick her pussy and clitoris.
Holding that thought, she rolled over and buried her face in the pillow and imagined Johnny -- or was it Father Clement? -- licking her pussy and then impaling her with his hard cock and dumping his hot semen into her clutching little pussy.

By noon the next day, Ursula was in high arousal. Her mother's wake-up knock on her door interrupted a vivid dream of Johnny insisting he wanted nothing more than to keep kissing her breasts and playing with her clitoris while she masturbated him to endless, impossible streams of semen that were steadily filling the bathtub in which she lay.
She found herself absent-mindedly caressing her pussy no matter what she was doing -- watching TV, brushing her teeth, surveying the contents of the refrigerator -- or where. She seemed unable to make her little cunt stop drooling and itching, and her nipples actually ached with their hardness. Pinching them, of course, did not relieve them.
At noon, she finally had to decide what to wear for his arrival. A nightie? That was out; all of her nighties had animals on them or were dramatically unattractive. Shorts and a shirt? Maybe, but they might make her look even younger and the last thing she wanted was for him to show up and suspect her lie. Finally, she decided that what seemed to draw boys most was her bust. She dug through her dresser drawer until she found the tanktop tee-shirt for camp workouts. She put it on and checked in the mirror.
Perfect. Her tits were so large that the too-small shirt only emphasized them. It was so tight, where it did cover her, that her breasts were almost visible through the tight material. And it didn't cover her completely. The armholes were stretched by her breasts so the sides of the firm, creamy swells were visible. She stepped into her yellow panties, snugging them around the chubby morsel of her pubis, and then pulled on her only pair of jeans -- bought with her saved allowance money and permitted only when she was going out in the cooler weather.
She checked herself in the mirror again, posing and turning. The jeans weren't as tight as she would have liked, but they were tight enough to show the wiggle of her tiny butt. Ursula was counting on Johnny's eyes never getting below her tits.
She braided her hair carefully, a tedious process, and then sat down to wait. Fifteen minutes, assuming he was on time. The clock seemed to pause longer and longer between ticks. Maybe it had stopped? If so, he was late -- or not coming.
She went to the living room, opening the window to watch for him. As soon as the window was open, she heard the rude BRRRRT of the doorbell. Ursula closed the window and scooted to the kitchen, pressing the button of the entrance buzzer and listening carefully for the downstairs door slamming back into place before relenting.
The shadow on the frosted, mesh-glass of the door to her apartment was his. She undid the locks and opened the door and he stepped quickly inside. "Hi, baby!"
She closed the door and leaned up on tip toes to kiss his cheek. "I'm glad you came."
"Yeah, well, uh, yeah." He looked her up and down nervously. His eyes went to her breasts, her face, her breasts, down the hallway, her breasts, into the master bedroom, her breasts, her face, her breasts. He rubbed his nose, brushed back his hair, danced from one foot to the other, brushed back his hair, put his hands in his pockets, took them out, brushed back his hair, scratched his arm, brushed back his hair and put his hands in his pockets. "Like, uh, you're all alone, huh?"
"Not anymore." She slipped her arm through his and led him toward the living room. He glanced nervously at the bed as they traversed the master bedroom. "Would you like a drink of water or something?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Sit here." She pushed him gently onto the big old couch. He looked all around the room. It was, of course, impeccably neat and clean. When she returned, carrying two glasses of water she smiled at him. "Johnny, I am really glad you came. I was thinking about you all night."
"Oh, yeah? You were, huh?"
She set the glasses down on the little occasional table in front of the couch, bending and enjoying the way his gaze focused on her tits. She could already see the lump hardening in his jeans.
Ursula straightened and went to the windows, drawing the curtains.
"What're you doing that for?" he asked suddenly, as if her movement made him even more nervous.
"Sunlight's bad for the carpet," she explained. "Besides, it's hot enough in her."
"Oh, yeah, right." He sipped the water cautiously. "So, uh, what've you been doing?"
"I told you," she said, stepped directly in front of him. She nudged his legs apart and stood between his knees. "Waiting for you." Her tits were right at his eye level and her nipples stuck out against the flimsy shirt as if trying to burrow through the cotton.
"Jeez."
She took the glass from him and slowly drank from it, upending the glass and putting her head back. She was purposely sloppy and half the water ran down her chin and onto her shirt, soaking it.
"Look familiar, Johnny?" She put the glass down. "Oh, my, I've gotten my shirt all wet. I better take it off before I catch a death of cold."
She put her hands at her waist and slowly, wiggling her hips gently, pulled the shirt upward. The water had soaked down below her breasts and the shirt clung damply to her skin as she pulled it upward. It felt like a huge kiss when it separated wetly from her skin.
She pulled it up and over her head, taking a long time about it, knowing the picture she presented -- she'd posed in the mirror that way often enough. Her arms high, her breasts were tautly raised and her nipples were swollen to hard points. She dropped the shirt on the table behind her and looked down.
"Touch me, Johnny -- I want it!"
His hands came up and covered her tits lightly, as if they were the delicate china that was their complexion and might shatter. He rubbed his thumbs over her nipples and she groaned and slowly brought her arms down to rest across his shoulders. He leaned forward and covered one nipple with his mouth, sucking and tonguing the turgid flesh avidly.
Suddenly, he pulled away and dropped his hands. "I shouldn't be doing this!"
"Why not?"
"Because you're -- I can't believe this -- you're only twelve! You're just a kid!"
She put her hands on either side of his face and drew it to her breasts. "A kid? Just a kid?"
"You're so damn sexy -- " He dove his face forward and licked and sucked her tits frantically, as if having gone this far, he was lost anyhow and might as well give in completely.
Ursula released a deep sigh of pleasure at what his mouth was doing, then another when she felt his arms go around her. His hands were all over her slim back, then dropping to squeeze her hard little butt through her jeans and panties. She brought her hands to her waist and unfastened and unzipped her jeans.
"Push them down?" she pleaded. "Please?"
She felt the jeans slide off her narrow hips and fall about her lanky thighs and finally catch around her ankles. She stepped out of them as he reached between her legs from behind and rubbed and prodded the panty-clad slit that was oozing so much juice in happy anticipation.
Ursula put her hands on his jaw and pulled him up from the couch. "Come with me to my bedroom," she said. Half-dazed, the tough gang- member let the nearly-naked 12-year-old nymphette lead him by the hand out of the living room. He hesitated in the master bedroom.
"Not here," she said. "In my bed, so it can be what I was imagining last night in my bed while I was playing with myself."
At her door, he said, "You play with yourself?"
"All the time." She led him inside and sat on her narrow bed. He would've looked around the room -- he'd never been in any girl's room except his older sister's, once, before she threw him out -- except she was distracting him irresistibly with what she was doing.
She was unbuckling his combat belt.
"Take off your shirt," she said. He pulled the sleeveless tee-shirt over his head, revealing a stringy, well-muscled body with a thick patch of dark hair on his chest. She ran one hand through it. "Nice," she whispered and kissed his belly. She kept kissing his belly as she returned to opening his pants. The zipper sounded very loud. She pushed his pants down to his ankles.
"Shoes," she said and he worked his way out of them without using his hands or loosening the laces.
His cock was making a tent of his boxer shorts. She put her hand into the opening and grabbed his meat and pulled it out.
It was, she thought, absolutely gorgeous. Six or seven inches long, almost too thick for her touch her thumb and forefinger around it and hard as iron in her grip. And hot! The glans was swollen and purple and unbelievably soft to her touch. She leaned forward and kissed it.
"Shit!" he gasped.
"You like that?"
"Yeah!"
She did it again, this time parting her lips a little and letting the tip of her little tongue work across the velvety smoothness.
"Damn-damn-damn-damn-" he moaned. He put his hands on her shoulders, caressing, then dropped lower to cup her ripe young tits.
She opened her lips, just as she read, and sucked his cock into her young mouth. When it hit the back of her mouth, she backed off. She gripped the shaft with one hand and began moving her mouth up and down on him, clasping him with her lips and sucking urgently. His hands went to her head and he started thrusting his hips at her -- too hard.
She jerked her head back. "No! I'll do this my way! You're hurting me that way!"
He shook his head, as if trying to clear it. "I'm sorry, baby, it just felt so good." He caressed her head and then put his hands on her shoulders. She took his cock back into her mouth and felt the tension in him as he fought the urge to resume fucking her face.
"Baby, you're gonna make me cum in your mouth," he warned.
She pulled back, releasing his thick prick with a pop. "Don't you want to?"
"Yeah, but, you know, I was thinking maybe you'd rather have me in you, or maybe you wouldn't want me to cum in your mouth."
"That's sweet, but I won't know if I like it until I try it, right?"
"You never did this before?" He sounded horrified. "Hey, you ain't a cherry, are you?"
"I'm no virgin," she said and he visibly relaxed. "But I never sucked a man before and I want to know what it's like." She kissed the underside of his glans. "So far, I like it!" And she started sucking again. She put her free hand between her own legs and began rubbing her pussy and clitoris through her wet panties. She was already close to cumming, herself, and knowing what a hot and nasty thing she was doing was turning her on even more.
Johnny began moaning urgently. His hands tightened carefully on her shoulders. She sucked harder and rubbed her tongue on the underside of his glans.
"I'm almost there, baby!"
She moaned around her mouthful of cock and jerked on his shaft.
"Oh, yeah!"
There was an eruption in her mouth. His cock swelled, lurched, and then he was shooting a powerful stream of that thick cream right into the hot suction of her mouth. Ursula squeezed her pussy, jerked on his cock, swallowed and sucked in another geyser -- and came herself. She moaned and writhed where she sat on her bed and sucked still more of the thick jism from him. It was so hot and so copious! He kept cumming and she tried to hold it in her mouth, but her cheeks bloated and she had to swallow. Shy jerked back hard on his cock, toward the base, and was rewarded with another blast of his cum. She knew she turned him on, because he came a lot for her.
Finally, even he had to slow his spurts. There were a few shots of reduced volume and then some dry spasms, but there was no more cum. She sucked as hard she could, wanting to be sure she milked every drop from his lovely dick, then she held his meat with two fingers and licked all around it.
She looked up and found him staring, slack-jawed at her.
As he looked down at the pretty 12-year-old face and mouth that had just drained him -- and she'd claimed it was her first time -- Johnny couldn't believe how sexy she was.
She watched him panting.
"Baby, you are the best!" he said. He caressed her face. She turned her head and kissed his hand. "How did you like it?"
She closed her eyes and shivered. "I'm not crazy about the taste, but it made me so hot to be sucking your -- your cock and doing something so nasty that I came, too, just rubbing my pussy."
His cock was only half-hard, but still stuck out of his boxer shorts. She pushed them off his legs, then helped his socks off. He had thick, dark brown hair around the base of his cock, and his balls looked -- well, strange. How odd to have part of you hanging outside your body like that, she thought. His scrotum and testicles looked like an afterthought by the designer.
Ursula lay back on the bed, knees bent at the edge and arms stretched over her head. His gaze went up and down her form, drinking it in. The way he looked at her made her even wetter. The way she looked to him started pumping erection-sustaining blood back into his teenaged cock.
"Wouldn't you like to come down here and touch me some more?"
"Hell, yes!" He lay down next to her and began running his hands over her tits. He played with her nipples and she put one arm around his shoulders.
"Kiss me?"
He looked at her oddly, with a hint of distaste. "You just sucked me off."
"If my lips are good enough for that, they're good enough for a kiss. Besides, it was your jism." She tilted her face up at him. "No kisses, no more sucking."
He looked troubled, but he complied. He kept his lips closed at first, then let his tongue penetrate her mouth only a little. Ursula clasped it with her lips and sucked his tongue, using hers to play with it. She could feel his resurrected hard-on pressed against her slender, irrepressibly moving thighs.
When he broke off the kiss, she said. "Taste okay?"
"A little funny. But, I mean, you know -- I don't want to turn into a faggot."
She gave him a puzzled look.
"You know -- a queer, a homo. Guys who like the taste of jism are faggots."
"So I'm a faggot?"
He looked truly troubled by the question. "You can't be no faggot; you're a girl."
"You noticed!"
"Yeah..." And he bent to kiss and lick her upthrust breasts, laving the precocious thrust of her tits with his tongue and lips. He paused at her nipples to suck hard, then soft, then twirl his tongue on them. She caught his hand in hers and pushed it down to her waist and guided it inside her panties.
He quickly found her slit and thrust a long finger deep inside, working it in and out in a fucking motion. What she liked was the way his palm was pressed against her clitoris. At last -- someone else's hand was on her magic button! She writhed and ground her cunt against his hand, reveling in several minor orgasms from the combination of his lips on her tits and her hand against her clitty and, as afterthought, the minor stimulation of his finger in her tight cunt.
Upon which he remarked, thusly:
"Damn all, but you are tight! And wet!"
"I've been wet since yesterday."
He bent and pulled her panties down. He frowned.
"What?"
"It's -- I don't know. You don't have any hair down there. You're like a little girl."
"I am a little girl, you dope," she said playfully.
"But you got such big knobs and you sucked -- Where did you learn to suck like that?"
She noticed that he'd put his hand back on her abdomen, nearly covering it.
"From a book."
"Must be a hell of a book. You got it?"
"Sure." She turned and reached between her mattress and box spring. She withdrew the book and handed it to him. He immediately opened it.
"Hey, there ain't no pictures!"
"Sure there are," she said, sitting up with the easy limberness of youth. "In here." She tapped the side of his head.
"Huh?"
"Reading this puts plenty of pictures in your head."
"Yeah?" He closed it and looked at the cover. She watched his lips moving -- slowly -- as he puzzled out the words. "Yeah?"
She took the book and opened it at random: " -- couldn't believe the ease with which she accepted the mighty stanchion. His enormous prick had nearly split her in two, yet her friend seemed to accommodate it easily and already made the happy sounds of pleasure as he fucked her young cunt with abandon -- "
She closed the book. His eyes looked a bit glazed. He said, "You learned to suck cock like that reading that book?"
She nodded.
"I'll be damned."
"Enough literature for now," she said, laying back and reaching up to put her hands on either side of his face. "I want you to suck my nipples."
"Now you're talking!" He happily dived back to mouthing her tits. His hand found its way, without urging, to her cunt. Her hairlessness seemed no problem at the moment.
Soon, she was writhing and bucking beneath his kisses and fondlings. Finally, she couldn't bear it any more.
"Johnny! I want you to do something to me!"
"Anything!"
"I want you to -- to gamahuche me!"
He blinked at her. "What? Gamawhat?"
"I want you to -- to lick my pussy and kiss my clitty!"
"Kiss your what?"
"My clitoris!"
"What's that? And I ain't about to lick no pussies, no way. That's where girls pee!"
"But I sucked you!" She was shocked at his resistance and doubly shocked at his ignorance.
"That's...right. But it's different."
She could see she was facing an invincible ignorance. By way of reply, she pulled his head down to her breasts and enjoyed his fingering and tit-sucking.
Eventually, he climbed over her. She reached between them and guided his cock to the entrance of her quim and they both groaned as he worked his way into her tight little cunt. It stretched her 12-year-old pussy immensely, but it didn't -- quite -- hurt. She was very wet and very horny. She wrapped her legs around the backs of his thighs and pulled herself up and onto him.
He immediately began flailing away, which was great, and let his entire weight rest on her, which was not so great. She finally convinced him to stop long enough to let her wheeze out that he had to hold himself up on his arms so she didn't suffocate. During this brief interlude, he continued pounding his cock into her as hard as he could.
But it felt good -- it felt very, very good -- and she started cumming quickly. Again and again, she reached a peak, mellowed slightly, then peaked again. He knew when she was cumming, too, because he moaned about her cunt sucking on him.
When she slipped her hand down to her crotch and let her fingers lightly rest on his pistoning prick, he moaned at the touch and thrust all the harder. But when she put her fingers on her clitoris and started massaging it, her orgasms became still more powerful, more compelling, her cunt locking down on him and pulling him deeper into her. He let out a roar and drove into her as hard as he could and held himself there. Her cunt was coating his cock and she could feel his spasms through her own as he poured his hot, teenaged load deep into her quivering little body.
She was already juicy and his semen quickly filled and overflowed her prick-packed vagina. The stuff ran down over her upturned ass cheeks, slicking the small, hard masses of lean muscle. When he gave out a death-rattle groan and began collapsing on her, she was still totally gripped in the wracking throes of orgasm.
It took long seconds to work herself out from under his all-but- inert bulk weighing down on her, but she managed. As he snored, she stood on quivering legs and checked the clock: 3:15. Ursula looked down at his muscular, but unconscious, form and sighed. This was a lot of fun. She had cum just as much as she'd thought she might, and part of it was the knowing that he would do whatever she wanted, as long as she kept making him feel good.
But he had downright refused to do something she really craved and he was as stupid as a stone. She corrected herself. Actually, he might be very bright; he was merely illiterate -- which to her was a damning quality.
Still, she could have this fun with him.
She went to the bathroom. She was going to use the hose to wash herself out, then wake him and thank him and see him on his way. He was really nice enough and well-meaning, but he wasn't what she wanted. She was sure there were plenty of Johnnys out there with whom she could have fun, manipulating them into pleasuring her. She wanted a man who would do the things she liked because he wanted to, a man who was at least as smart and well-read as she was and willing to make her cum a lot because that was what he wanted, too -- to make her cum.
As she used her home-made douche on herself, Ursula told herself there was no point in ducking it any more. What she wanted was a Daniel.
Well, she told herself, I'm going to have him!

From: Anonymous@anonymous.com (Anonymous) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: Ursula (5/5) Date: 26 Aug 92 02:09:42 GMT

For 99 percent of those who can read, this is a needless reminder, so I address this to the one percent.
If you enjoyed this story and/or appreciate the time and effort I put into writing it, there's a simple way for you to quietly show that appreciation -- by acting as a responsible BBSer. That means:
Don't let any minors read this;
Don't send it to any BBS that wouldn't welcome it. You may not agree with the SysOp's restriction on x-rated files or stories involving people under 19 (21 in some states), but that's the SysOp's perogative and as a guest/subscriber/user of his or her BBS, you are honor-bound to respect the stated restrictions;
Don't change or modify the file name or the text itself; that's a cheat and we both know it.

On a personal note, I ask you not to remove either this afterward or my handle.

Thanks, in advance.

Ursula is the explicit tale of a girl exploring her newly emerging sexuality as she enters adolescence. If such things offend you, please read no farther.

Everything you are about to read is probably fiction.

Ursula by Friar Dave

Chapter Five

"Hi!"
"Hi, Roxanne!" Ursula stepped back and wave her friend into her apartment, locking the door behind her. In the two weeks since he first -- and only -- session with Johnny, Roxanne had pumped the explosively developing 12-year-old for every detail and bit of information she could get. Did he kiss her nipples and suck them? Did it feel good? She did what to his what??? Eeeuuwww! What was it like? Was it gross? She actually what when he shot? And when he was inside --
It had taken many sessions of many hours to make even a dent in Roxanne's curiosity.
But it was the only session with Johnny because he was getting ragged on by his friends for being a "cradle-robber." At least, that was what he'd said when he called her and told her he wasn't going to be seeing her any more. Not that he didn't want to -- he did! -- but he had to have respect from the other Stompers and, Well, You Know How it Is.
Roxanne tanned well and Ursula was a bit jealous of her taller, rangier friend's shapely legs and rich, glowing complexion. Ursula had a typical redhead's problem with the sun: She burned fine, but didn't tan worth a damn.
Roxanne was striding toward the kitchen in her self-assured way. She always did this -- walked right in and made herself at home. Somehow, though, Ursula found it endearing. In many way they were more like sisters and friends then friends or sisters only. "Well, I have two bits of news for you," Roxanne said loudly as she strode down the hallway.
"Like what?"
"I saw Daniel yesterday and -- "
"You did? Where? When? What was he doing? Was he with anyone? What did he say?"
Ursula was looking into the refrigerator. She selected a glass jar filled with orange juice, unscrewed the cap and swigged away at it.
"He was just checking on his apartment; said he was told to pick up the mail and check the place over. He was by around two o'clock -- "
Ursula had been running errands.
" -- and he was alone."
Good, she thought. "What did he say? Did you talk much?"
"I guess for about a half-hour. He has two part-time summer jobs, at the A&P out there near the beach house, and working in a hamburger place near the amusement park."
"How'd he look?"
For the first in all the time she'd known Roxanne, Ursula saw her friend with dreamy look in her face. "Wonderful!" She gazed off into space until Ursula grabbed her forearms and squeezed.
"Tell me!"
"Well, he goes running and swimming every day and he spends an hour or two laying out in the sun or playing ball and he's all tan and muscular! He's gorgeous! He was wearing a white sport shirt and a pair of white pants and he looked so good!" She giggled. "And there's the silliest thing. You know how he has this forelock -- " She touched her own hair for illustration. " -- that's always a little lighter? Well, his hair is all coppery at the end and the forelock is so light red, it's almost blond! It's really gorgeous!"
"What else?"
"Well, he asked how you were doing."
"He did??? Really???" Ursula couldn't believe it. She was overjoyed. He'd actually asked after her!
"Anyhow, I said I had two pieces of news for you," Roxanne reminded.
"Oh? Yeah, right -- what else?"
"He wants his book back."
Ursula's eyes widened. "His book? What did you tell him?"
"That I'd have to look for it."
Ursula thought rapidly. "You said you'd have to look for it. What did he say?"
"He's supposed to be coming back next week to start getting the apartment ready for his family. He's going to stop by for it then. So You have to be sure to give it back before then."
Ursula caught her lower lip between her pearly teeth. "I have an idea," she said.
Roxanne cocked her head to one side.
"You know I want him a lot..."
Roxanne nodded and slowly said, "You know I like him, too."
Ursula stared at her best friend in all the world.
"But," Roxanne said slowly, "I don't think he thinks of me as a girl. Not really. But you -- " She eyed the voluptuous 12-year-old meaningfully. "A guy can't help noticing that you're a girl." Roxanne sighed deeply. "What's your idea?"
"When he comes to you for the book, confess that you loaned it to someone. Act annoyed that you haven't gotten it back and tell him he should get it back, himself -- from me."
Their gazes locked for a long moment. Finally, Roxanne nodded, slowly and deeply. "Okay."
Ursula threw her arms around her friend and hugged her. "Thank you!" she said sincerely and when she stepped back, she noticed that Roxanne's face was a little red and her tee-shirt's flatness was now broken by two small, thrusting points where her hardened nipples were pressing the fabric.
Roxanne reached out and took Ursula's face in her hands. For a moment, the 12-year-old had the distinct idea her friend was thinking of kissing her right on the mouth.
"Ursula," said Roxanne. "He won't have a chance! Let's make schemes!" They returned to the redhead's room and conspired.

Ursula counted days. At night, she masturbated furiously, always playing pornographic movies involving Daniel with her. She imagined him licking her clit and making her come dozens of times. She pictured sucking him till he filled her mouth with his semen. She envisioned herself riding his hard cock while he sucked and nibbled her breasts. Sometimes she dared imagine would it would be like to have him in back, in tiny ass, and would carefully work just one finger inside her butt to the first knuckle while she played with her clitty. It didn't hurt -- if she was careful to lubricate the finger first...and there was plenty of lubricant available in her yearning little cunt. It didn't feel particularly great, either, but it was -- interesting. Maybe it would be different with a guy's nice smooth, hot dick.
Once she even imagined Daniel and Johnny both with her at once. Daniel would lick her while Johnny slid his cock into her. Or she could suck one while the other fucked her. Or maybe she could take one in front and one in back at the same time, like happened to the girl in that book who came so much she fainted.
Considering the stricture in the front -- never mind the rear -- of her narrow-hipped 12-year-old body, Ursula thought that wasn't too likely. After all, the girl in the book was older Ursula and had been doing a lot of fucking by the time she got into the trio-fuck.
Still, the idea of two handsome men frantic for her made Ursula cum and cum and cum.
Then, On Tuesday afternoon, Roxanne devastated her.
"He just left."
"He WHAT? He wasn't even supposed to be here till the end of the week and this is only Tues--"
Roxanne stepped inside, putting her hand over Ursula's mouth. "He'll be back tomorrow. Okay?"
Ursula blinked and Roxanne took her hand off her mouth. In her other hand she had a shopping bag.
"You're sure?"
"That's what he told me."
Ursula tried to slow her racing heart. It felt as if it were about to burst through her chest. "Tell me the story."
"He just came in to give the janitor keys so the apartment can be painted next week. Tomorrow he has to come back and fix some things in the kitchen that got messed up when the guy upstairs let his tub overflow. He wants to be done by one so he doesn't miss the whole day at the beach. He's coming by my door then for the book."
"What did you tell him?"
"That's I'd have to look for it and I was sorry for being such a pain." She grinned. "I think he bought it."
"What's in the bag?"
"Oh, yeah! C'mon!" She strode toward Ursula's room with the busty little redhead close on her heels.
"What were you going to wear when he came by?"
Ursula frowned. She'd been pondering that on and off for days. "I was thinking just my tee-shirt from camp and some shorts."
Roxanne shook her head.
"Well, maybe just snatch one of my Dad's tee-shirts and not wear anything under it. It would come down almost to my knees and I saw this picture of a French starlet in an outfit like that and she was really sexy."
Roxanne shook her head again. "With that braid and that face, in that getup you'd look like a little kid."
Ursula stared down at her tits. They'd continued they're explosive growth, so much so that she'd begun to wonder if the street tale that Roxanne had repeated to her -- that swallowing semen makes tits grow bigger -- might be true. And she had swallowed a lot from Johnny...
But Roxanne again said: "No. Even with those beauties."
"What do you think I should wear?"
Roxanne opened the shopping bag and laid out a white peignoir and a matching dressing robe. Both had plenty of lace.
"But isn't that the one you had on two years ago?"
RIta nodded. "It's way too short for me now."
"And you'll let me have it so I can get Daniel?"
Roxanne nodded again. Before she could say anything, though, Ursula had her arms around her neck and was hugging her and sobbing, "Oh, you're so sweet! You're really trying to help me get him even though you like him, too!"
Roxanne hugged her back and said, "Well, we have to do something to keep some Papist slut from stealing him away, right?"
Ursula laughed and they continued hugging each other. She liked the way Roxanne hugged her. She was a lean and muscular girl, but there was a softness to her, too, that guys didn't have. It felt good. It even felt kind of sexy. She looked up and saw Roxanne looking down at her, a strange expression on her face -- and on impulse, Ursula stretched up and kissed her on the lips.
It was meant to be just a peck, an experimental thing, but she found herself keeping her lips glued to her friend's soft, warm mouth and a moment later felt Roxanne returning the eagerness -- and then Roxanne gently disentangled them.
Again, Ursula noticed that Roxanne was breathing harder and that her nipples were swollen.
And so were Ursula's.
Roxanne cleared her throat. "That was -- nice."
Ursula nodded. "Why'd we have to stop?"
"Because it confuses me. I haven't even had a boyfriend or even a real good kiss from a boy. I want to know about that before I start exploring other things." She paused. "I don't always want to be just one of the guys and if I find my other needs taken care of without the guys, well, maybe I won't try hard enough to be a real girl. Does that make sense to you?"
"I think I know what you're saying. But -- you know I love you, Roxanne! I'd like to make you feel good and have you make me feel good!"
Roxanne caressed Ursula's face. "Let's get you outfitted for your great seduction scene. Unless, that is, you're not interested in Daniel anymore..."
"No!" Ursula picked up the peignoir and held it against her front, then the dressing robe. They were the right length, but she doubted something that fit a skinny Roxanne at twelve was going to fit a busty Ursula. Choosing her words carefully, she expressed her doubts.
"Relax," Roxanne said. "The dressing robe is loose and has a sash, so you can tie it a lot of ways. The peignoir has these little ties -- see?" She pointed to them. "They can adjust the fit through the bodice. In your case, don't tie them at all, so the sides will hang open, but under the dressing robe. It'll be a little tight on top for you, but that's just what we want, isn't it?"
"Show off a little for him."
"Exactly. He won't be able to resist. Nobody could resist."
They worked out the details of their plans. When Roxanne finally told him where to get the book, she would bang on the floor over Ursula's bedroom. Ursula would then have time to don the dressing robe and be ready for his knock on the door.
As Roxanne was leaving, Ursula stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why are you doing so much to help me get him -- really? I know you like him a lot, and you know him better."
"I'm his friend. He doesn't think of sex when he looks at me."
"Maybe he does. You have a really cute figure and your legs are very long and you have a pretty face -- "
"Ursula, he doesn't think of me that way. Maybe someday he will, but not now."
"But aren't you afraid that if he and I...do it, well, he may never be interested in anyone else that way?"
"Oh, Ursula, you're so sweet -- but you don't know him like I do. He's so smart that he's probably going to win a college scholarship -- or two. He might win one for track or for swimming. He wants to be an astronaut and he might just be one someday. Does that sound like a guy who's going to tie himself down one girl -- "
"Especially a 12-year-old girl."
"-- or a 14-year-old girl? Does that sound like a guy who's going to stay on this block forever? He wants to go places, see things, meet people, do things, explore, learn -- do. It burns in him! And he just might do all the things he wants to, because it burns so hot!"
Ursula looked at her best friend in something approaching awe -- and sudden realization. Roxanne loved Daniel, passionately and deeply. Ursula realized that, now. But she couldn't say anything about it, because if she did, she knew she'd burst into tears.
"So you be down here and ready as soon as your folks leave, and when you hear me bang on your ceiling -- party time!"
"Okay," Ursula said, trying to feign excitement. "I'll be ready."
Roxanne stared at the front of Ursula's tee-shirt, where her nipples were quite clearly outlined. "Looks to me like you're ready already! See ya'!"
As soon as she was gone, Ursula flung herself down on her bed and cried for almost twenty minutes.

Ursula was wide awake, but pretended to be asleep, when her mother rapped on the door. "Up, backhout! Time for breakfast."
She had Kleenex in her panties to soak up some of the secretions dripping from her. She sat, horrified, at the table as her father said his back was really bothering him and maybe he should not go to work that day. In the end, the Old Country ethic and her mother's warning that he got paid for unused sick days -- won out and Ursula's heart resumed beating. She stripped, stuffed her voluminous hair inside two shower caps, one atop the other, and showered for a half-hour, masturbating twice. She'd washed her hair before going to bed. She pulled on her old bathrobe and sat in her room, listening to Cousin Brucie on the radio tell her it was going to be a real scorcher.
Ursula absent-mindedly cupped her tits and bent her head to lick her tits. She was able to lick her nipples and could almost get the left one in her lips. If her mammaries were so firm -- even hard -- she'd be able to do it, but they were not elastic at all. Even when she hopped up and down in place -- which she sometimes did naked in front of the mirror -- her tits barely wobbled and bounced not at all.
Her breasts were still growing at a prodigious rate. She had her own measuring method, since she found inch sizes were meaningless. (Roxanne had a larger bust measurement than Ursula, but no tits to speak of.) Ursula would put her hands over her tits and see how much of her hands were filled. When Jerome had savaged her little pussy, she could almost completely cover one tit with each hand. Now two hands failed to cover one breast.
At ten o'clock she got into the tub with her water toy and brought herself off endlessly, hoping it would relieve some of her tension. It didn't. She dried herself off (on the outside; the inside kept leaking) and made herself a sandwich of peanut butter and jelly on toast. She tried reading TeenBeat and found herself looking for singers who resembled Daniel. At half-past-eleven, she turned on the television, but quickly found herself staring at the sat but actually seeing images of Daniel reaching for her -- and she sat in panties on the sofa with her hand between her legs, kneading her pussy lips and idly toying with her nipples.
In dismay, she went in and showered again, trying not to imagine that the hands caressing her slippery, firm curves were His. She dried off before permitting herself the indulgence of masturbating to orgasm, and set about combing out her hair. Without the braid, her hair was a shimmering cascade of bright red that reached almost to her waist. Combing it out was a time- and attention-consuming challenge. At one point she gathered it into two loose falls which she held over her breasts. She looked at her self in the mirror, cocked her hips and pouted. "You like?" she asked, trying to make her voice seductive.
Her hair was so UGLY! she wailed to herself. Why did it have to be such a hideous color? And why did her skin have to be so pale? To her, it looked like she was sick, but with a fever to give her flesh a bit of a glow. And would she never get any hair on her pussy, so she wouldn't look like a little girl down there? Auuuughhh! He was going to look at her and laugh, boobs or no boobs!
She took the brush to her hair with a vengeance, punishing it, and then noticing how the handle of the brush was shaped and she was sure he'd have a penis as hard as the brush handle and again, her pussy was throbbing, distracting.
She went to her room and donned the peignoir. She unfastened all the ties down both sides, except for one tie on each side of her waist. She looked at herself in the mirror. The peignoir was pale blue and the bodice was square-cut. On flat-chested little Roxanne, it had been cute and demure.
With Ursula's amazing tits filling it, the peignoir looked like it had been designed for Bardot. Even completely loosened. Her tits filled the lacy bodice almost to bursting. The satiny fabric was pulled taut. The string-like shoulder straps were pulled out slightly as they reached down to their juncture with the material charge with modestly -- hah! -- covering her breasts.
She pulled on the dressing gown. She experimented with the sash, finally deciding the gown should be pulled in so that the edge ran down over her nipples and the sash should be tied high under her tits. That made her proportions more womanly and less like those of a little girl with someone else's tits.
She draped her hair over the back of the dressing gown and studied herself in the mirror. Actually, she thought, not too bad.
The clock said 12:30. One o'clock, she thought. Just like Johnny. And she planned to do the same, and more. There, the similarity ended. This was serious. This was with Him, the man she'd dreamed about. This was, she told herself, for Love Eternal.
Maybe she should take another shower? Naaaah -- no time to get really dry. Well, then, what could she do to fill the -- at least -- 29 minutes and 30 seconds? She stood in front of her mirror and examined herself. She didn't look bad at all. Actually, she conceded, she looked good. Would he think so? Maybe. But what would he say?
So Ursula began to run through scenarios. Where he laughed at her invitation to come in while she looked for the book. Where he simply grabbed her and ravished her. (She liked that word -- "ravished.") Where he told her how good she looked and she invited him in and he asked how a pretty girl like her had come to be wearing such an outfit this late in the day and, by the way, did the book make her as hot as it made him -- as hot as he was for her while his lips descended on hers and he unfastened the sash of the dressing robe and then began to ...
"Ohhhhhh," she groaned, her fingers somehow finding their way through the open side of her peignoir and worming their way down to her perpetually drooling cunt.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Ursula froze.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
The noise came from the ceiling above her head. It was only 12:50 -- and he was already coming to her door!
Ursula pulled her hand from her sopping snatch and retied the dressing robe. She was standing in the door of her room when she heard the knock on the door. Before she could give herself a chance to transfer her sexual arousal to nervousness, she hurried to answer it.
She didn't ask who it was. She unfastened the locks and pulled the door open a little?
It was Him.
"Oh, Hi."
"Hi. I understand you have something of mine."
He was wearing a yellow shirt, beige chinos and blue deck shoes and he was beyond dispute the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen.
"Ummm -- oh, yes! Come in and I'll get it!" And did he have to move so quickly and quietly? It was unsettling. One moment he was out There, in the hallways of the tenement and the next he was inside, standing less than two feet away, his very presence a sudden and unbelievable reality. "Uh, I have something of yours?"
"A book," he said, glancing around, then spearing her with that steady, hazel-eyed gaze. "A dirty book."
"Oh, sure. In here." She led him down the hallway to her room.
"I'm sorry if I woke you," he said.
"Woke me -- ?"
He glanced at her attire.
"Oh, well, as hot as it's been, this is about as comfortable as I can get."
"I know what you mean. It's a good day for swimming."
"I know. But I don't tan; I just burn." She dared smile at him and caught him looking at her breasts. Encouraged, she said, "Have you been swimming a lot this summer."
"Every day. I just got my certification as an auxiliary lifeguard."
"Really? What do you do?"
"Sometimes a bunch of people get into trouble at once, and then the auxiliaries help the fulltime lifeguards get them out."
She sat on the bed, letting herself bounce. "Really? A whole bunch at once?"
"Sure." He seemed to be seeing it as he spoke. "At low tide, sandbars form and a lot of people feel confident going to them. But if the tide comes in or there's a cross current, suddenly there can be ten or fifteen people at once who can't get back." He grinned, then almost blushed beneath his smooth, glowing tan. "That can even be fun." The blush deepened.
"I don't understand," she said. "Is it dangerous?"
"Not at all -- as long as they're enough trained people available."
"But how can it be fun?"
"Well -- "
"Please?"
"Sometimes they're pretty girls and we help them back in, and the most reassuring carry for pulling someone through the water, well..."
"What is it?"
He suddenly couldn't look her in the eye -- and she took advantage of it, undoing the sash-knot of her dressing gown.
"Well, we call it a cross-chest carry."
She shook her head in bewilderment -- as if she couldn't figure it out from the name.
"Well, you sort of throw your arm across the person's chest and then do a one-hand backstroke to get them in. It can be -- fun."
"Can you show me?"
He looked at her appraisingly.
"Please?" She patted the bed. He sat beside her and put an arm over her shoulders. "Like this," he said, "but lower." He paused. "And in front."
She reached up and took his hand, then shifted so her back was to him. Then she led his hand down and across her breasts and put it under her armpit. His forearm -- Damn, his muscles were so hard! -- were pressed into her breasts. The dressing gown had fallen open.
"Like this?"
He nodded. "Sort of."
"Oh, but you wouldn't sit up and swim," she said and pressed backward. He went with the motion and then he was laying on his back, with her snuggled into him and his arm across her breasts.
Feel my nipples hardening? she wondered.
"Like this?"
He sighed. "Yes," he said. "But auxiliaries don't usually get to help pretty young women like you. The senior guards go for them, first."
Pretty young women like you. It echoed in her mind. So she wasn't just a kid to him. She was a young woman, a pretty young woman.
"And after they're safe, do they thank you?" She arched her neck to look back and up at him...and arched her back, bringing his hand up to rest against the side of her breast. The unfastened ties of the peignoir, combined with the thrust of her breasts, meant his fingertips rested on her bare flesh. "Do they show their gratitude?"
"Sometimes," he said.
"I'd thank you," she said and used her hand to lead his to the full thrust of her hard young breast. "I'd want to kiss you." Her other hand had reached up and back, to the back of his head. She led his face down to hers. "Like this," she whispered and after that, he needed no urging.
When their lips meant, Ursula felt as if she'd touched an electric line. The shock thrilled through her. His lips were thin, yet soft. he was hungry, by his kiss, but not demanding. It all gave her a sense of ineffable sweetness and passion and it was she who open her lips first and let her vixen-pointed tongue dart out to tantalize, encourage and then toy with his.
She'd expected him to use his hand to reach under the opened fabric of the peignoir and began mauling her tit; instead, he reached farther and rolled her onto him, focusing on the kiss. Occasionally, he drew his lips from hers to kiss her face and sometimes her ears or the side of her neck. His hands moved up and down over her, turning the satin of the dressing robe and peignoir into assets for caresses rather than a barrier to them.
When he pushed the dressing robe off her shoulders, she made her arms slither to accommodate it, then raised up again to undo the buttons on his shirt. There was just a little sparse hair on his chest and even in the dim illumination that filtered through her doubly-curtained windows, she could see the sun had bronzed the hair. She had to kiss it and he slid his hands down her sides and then back to cup her ass and squeeze it powerfully -- but gently.
She wondered if he could smell her juices.
Ursula pulled her legs up and caught one of his thighs between hers. She hunched down onto it and rubbed her cunny up and down urgently, savoring the feel of his lust-corded muscles against her. He worked his hands up under the satin of the peignoir and began caressing and kneading the rock hard cheeks of her tiny ass. He took one buttock in each hand and held her firmly, guiding her down onto him. She wantonly pulled the front of the peignoir out of the way, the better to feel the contact with the fabric of his pants.
"Let's get rid of this," he said, tugging the peignoir still more. She raised her hips and then one arm and then the other and he pulled it over her head. He kissed her lips again, hungrily, then her throat and then she was kneeling up. She bent slightly and cupped her tits, offering them to him. He took the offerings eagerly, licking the undercurves -- and surprising her with a discovery: the neglected part of her tits was very sensitive.
He licked his way up, never touching her nipples and making her want that touch all the more.
"Suck them!" she hissed. "Please suck them!"
Finally, he brought his hands up to supplant hers on her breasts. He lowered her left nipple till it was almost at his lips. She could feel his breath on it. Finally his tongue reached out and drew spirals around it, always tightening spirals. They seemed to always close but never reach that throbbing spike...
...until his tongue finally touched her nipple and she felt the orgasm growling inside her. When he actually closed his lips on her nipple and sucked it, she did cum.
"Oh, yes! YES!" She was shocked at the volume of her own cries and the way her hips lurched wantonly at him.
He ran his other hand back down over her back. When he splayed his fingers in the small of her back, she realized that he could nearly span her waist with one hand. Then the hand went farther, covering first one cheek and then the other, and then it rested in the very center. She felt his fingertip against her tight, hairless little quim. She tried to press back against it and when the tip of the finger penetrated, she was sure she couldn't wait one more minute. She arched her head back, eyes closed, and groaned from deep within her, and then her hips flailed wildly as she came again.
"I have to have you in me," she hissed and sat up. She fumbled at his belt buckle, then the waist snap and zipper of his chinos. She forced them down to his hips only to find a pair of Jockeys restricted what she wanted. She hooked her trembling thumbs in the elastic at the waist and pushed them down, too. She shifted lower and pulled both to his thighs, then shifted and pulled them over his knees.
His cock, freed, stood up at a 45-degree angle from his stomach. His stomach was taut and hard, with a hint of the hard muscles beneath, His cock throbbed and bobbed with his heartbeat. It wasn't as big as Jerome's or Johnny's, though it was awfully thick, but it was gorgeous because it was His.
Ursula couldn't resist. She bent at the waist and took it in her fingers bad kissed it, then took the glans in her mouth and sucked it, running her tongue all over it.
He groaned pitifully and arched up. His scrotum was tight and when she cupped his balls with one small hand, they felt as hard as -- and as big as -- jumbo eggs. She sucked his cock and moved her mouth up and down on it. His hands touched the sides of her head, at the temples, and his fingers brushed back her hair. His cock tasted exactly as she'd dreamed -- salty, a little musky, very masculine. It was as hard and mouth-filling as she'd always hoped, and it was filling HER mouth. She ground her cunt down onto his pants-clad shin and sucked madly.
His hands tightened on the sides of her head and her forced her back and tilted her face up.
"If you do that any more," he said, "I'm going to cum in your mouth."
She looked at him slack-jawed for a moment, and mumbled, "Yes, I know." And promptly stuffed his cock back into her mouth. With one hand she played with her hard-to-bursting nipples and with the other she alternately dandled his balls and jerked the unmouthed bottom of his shaft.
He continued caressing her face, his hands trembling more and more. Then she felt his hips shudder and heard him say -- with astonishing calm and clarity -- "I'm coming now, Ursula."
She sucked all the harder and was rewarded. He shuddered as he poured a long spurt of very hot semen into her nursing mouth. It went on for so long that she wondered if he was pissing, but, no, the taste and texture were unmistakable. Her mouth filled and she swallowed and then he was cumming again. It was too much to hold in her mouth. Again she swallowed, but not before almost half of it forced its way out around the gasket of her lips on his fat prick. Her hips shook and she felt her vagina clenching in a little orgasm of her own.
She put her fingers under his balls and she felt a swelling between his legs, behind his scrotum, just as his testicles shivered and he started to cum again. She pressed against the swelling and he groaned loudly and this time he came and came and came into her hotly sucking mouth and she didn't have a chance of containing all of it.
He fell back prone and spent as she continued sucking on his shriveling cock. She released it finally and covered it with little kisses. She pressed her sperm-slicked lips to his thighs and belly. His hands went under her arms and he pulled her up over him. Her tits dragged across the overflow of his cum and acquired a slippery sheen. He took her face in his hands, kissed her eyes and then her lips.
Ursula broke off the kiss and buried her face against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his neck. His hands were constantly moving, caressing her back, her shoulders, the sides of her breasts where they were forced outward against his chest. He gentled her thighs and her tiny, hard ass, which still quivered.
Ursula let her thighs part and straddle his. She slowly rubbed her wet cunt against the powerful muscle. She could feel his semen in her belly and on her tits and chin, yet she couldn't quite believe this was really happening. She kept fearing this was a late-night half-asleep fantasy and at any moment, she'd drift off the sleep completely and then her mother would be banging at the door to wake her for breakfast.
But then he was rolling her off him on the narrow bed, arranging her on her back, and he was kissing his way down over her tight little body.
"What are you doing?" she breathed. His kisses were arousing her even more -- something she didn't believe was possible.
He paused to tweak one nipple gently and lightly cup his hand over each of her fabulous breasts.
"Turnabout," he said. "It's fair play."
He kissed her flat little belly and abdomen as he turned himself on the bed. His hands went over her slim thighs and parted them. He knelt between her legs and backed farther down the bed, then lay with his torso on the bed and his legs off and he began licking the insides of her thighs.
She felt his hot breath on her cunt and moaned.
"You're so young," he said and she knew it was her hairless childlike cunt that prompted the comment. "But you're so sexy and beautiful!"
Then he was cupping her butt in his hands and he was kissing her pussy.
"OOOOooo," she moaned. Her fingers went to his head and she caressed him. When he started running his tongue up and down her cunt lips, she grabbed him by the hair and arched her hips, driving her quim up at him. She felt his tongue, so hot and strong, push past the tight clam of her swollen labia and penetrate her a little and her juices pulsed inside her.
But when he brought his lips up to fasten them around her clitoris, Ursula began cumming in an unbroken string of ever more intense orgasms. She kept cumming harder and harder and better and better. She felt as if something inside of her was tightening, as if her insides were trying to grip something so they could relax. She couldn't make a sound even though her mouth was open. She just kept inhaling, more and more, sucking air desperately as the orgasms intensified to the very brink of pain.
And then it let go, all at once, and she screamed in pure pleasure, writhing and bucking madly as all the pleasure washed through her and exploded the tightness out of her. It went on and on and somehow increased when her sinuous writhing caused his juice-slicked thumb to wedge against her asshole.
"YES!" she shrieked and ground her tiny butt down, taking his thumb inside. "YES!" She craved the penetration, craved having something wedged inside, even back there. Her ass muscles fluttered on his thumb as the orgasm ripped through her again and again. She locked her thighs around his head, crossed her ankles over his back and imprisoned her against the core of her pleasure-wracked being. She felt totally out of control of herself, of her body, and she was afraid she might be unable to restrain her bladder if this continued.
But it did continue and she gasped frantically as another long, powerful explosion of pleasure ripped through her.
Ursula fell back to the bed, totally limp, but still shuddering in orgasms. He withdrew his thumb from her ass and turned his face to kiss her thighs, then crawled up over her and next to her. She rolled easily into his arms and wept uncontrollably as he held her close.
"Himmel, Himmel, Himmel," she babbled. "I never knew anything could feel so good. Oh, thank you!"
"Don't thank me," he said, gruffly. "I enjoyed it, too -- but I doubt I enjoyed it as much."
She looked up at him and saw him smiling and dared smile back. Then she chuckled and he laughed with her. It felt strange -- and good.
"I -- Why are we laughing?" she asked.
"Because it feels good. Is there something wrong with laughing together during sex?"
"You're ears are all red."
He laughed again. "Can't imagine how that happened."
She kissed him hard on the mouth, then said, "I've never felt anything like that before!"
He frowned.
"What's wrong?"
"Gee, maybe you wouldn't be interested in what I was thinking of next." He shifted so she could feel his re-erected cock push against her. "I mean, after that, maybe you don't want -- "
She groaned. "I have to have you in me. I have to. Right now."
"Maybe you should get on top. I don't want to crush you."
She scooched over and he lay back. Quick as could be, Ursula was crouching over him. He reached down to grip his cock and aim it. She felt him brush the velvety glans across her sopping cunt a few times, then rub it against her still-throbbing clit. She shivered and almost toppled at that touch.
His other hand went to her narrow hips, resting on one hipbone. He guided her down till the knob was wedged into her cunt grip. She felt it throbbing there against and almost in her and jacked her hips down, taking half of his thick cock in a stroke.
Ursula closed her eyes and leaned her head back, her long hair tickling down her back to brush her tightly clenched ass. She sighed deeply. She finally had Him inside her. That was His cock throbbing in her little pussy, His prick stretching her little cunt, His dick bathing in the molten juices of her tiny quim.
She worked her hips down slowly, wriggling them sensuously and savoring the feel of his dick going deeper and deeper into her. She felt her hard little ass brush his thighs and then his wiry, coppery pubic hair was against her stretched labia.
Shivering with pleasure, Ursula leaned forward and rested her hands on his strong chest. With her eyes still closed, she shifted till she was on her knees. She opened her eyes when she felt his hands brush up over her precocious tits and then her shoulders. She sighed again when his fingertips brushed her hair back. Then his hands were running down her back and covering her ass. His fingers tightened on the resilient flesh and he pulled her down harder onto her, grinding her clitoris against the bony ring around the base of his cock.
"Ahhh!" Ursula hissed. The strength went out of her arms as her little pussy muscles twitched with the beginnings of another orgasm. He groaned as she squeezed his cock inside her. She let herself settle against his chest, her breasts pressed like two fists against his ribcage. Her unbound hair draped over her back and sides as she began jacking her hips up and down urgently.
His fingers dug into her hard little ass cheeks and he used his hands to guide her faster up and down on his dick. She came again, hard and shuddering, and heard him groaning about how good it felt on him. His hips battered up at her faster, meeting her strokes and doubling the speed of their fucking. His cock seemed to be swelling inside her and then it felt like it was touching something new inside her and she was suddenly screaming as golden waves pleasure washed over her. Her thrashing became erratic. She could hear the slurping sounds of their organs sloshing in her juices.
When one of his fingertips suddenly began pressing between the spasming cheeks of her rock-hard butt and prodded at her sphincter, though, Ursula lost it completely.
"YES!" she yelped, pressing down hard against him, trying to take even more of him into her cunt and hold it there. "YES!" The fingertip wedged into the pinhole pucker, slicked with her overflowing juices and Ursula felt a wild thrill go through her. Her cunt contracted still more around him as he slid the finger into her ass to the first knuckle and then the second. "YES!" She couldn't stop cumming it seemed, and she loved the feeling of his finger stretched her ass and compressing her cunt still more around his cock. "MORE!"
He jammed his finger into her ass right to the palm and Ursula felt her sphincters gripping it and jerking on it in time with the spasms flashing through her little cunt.
"Damn! I'm going to cum soon!" he warned.
"YES! I want you -- you -- t-to -- c-c-um in me -- oooo..."
"But -- I don't want you to -- "
She growled, as if her animal lust had turned her into an animal. Yes! She had to have his cum in her cunt. Nothing else could put out the fires there! Ursula raised her upper body on quivering arms and pumped her hips up and down as hard and fast as she could, adding willful strength to the involuntary contractions of her cunt.
"I'm going to milk all of you into me!" she hissed. "I want it!"
He arched beneath her, then fell back and groaned: "Take it, then!"
She felt his dick swell like a balloon in her clutching cunt and then she felt it wildly jerking. She could feel the steaming moisture within her as he shot another huge load of cum into her and she squeezed and grasped him inside her, keeping her promise -- milking him.
Again and again, his virile young balls lurched in their tight sack and again and again he erupted inside her. Ursula felt as if she were lost in a world of orgasmic pleasure, unending pleasure, a world that revolved around the ejaculating cock locked in her constricted little cunt. Her vagina was so tight around him, so filled with his swollen cock and her abundant juices, that it quickly filled with his jism and then overflowed. Each new geyser forced more of the white heat out around the stretched lips of her small quim.
His spasms finally slowed and then stopped. Her orgasm didn't and her cunt remained locked tight around him. He withdrew the finger from her ass and she resented its departure as she shuddered. He drew her back down against him and the frantic quivering of her hips slowed and finally settled into an occasional twitch. The touch of his lips on the top of her head signaled the completion of this series of shattering orgasms. She gasped for breath as his arms went around her and his dick finally began to shrivel within the loosening grip of her sperm-soaked cunt.
"I've wanted this with you for so long," she breathed. "You couldn't believe how much I've wanted you."
"Or how much I've wanted you."
She blinked and tried to raise her head to look at him. She was trembling with that effort. "What?"
"I've wanted you, too."
"But why didn't you ever say anything?"
"You were, well, so shy and young and -- I don't know; unapproachable, I guess."
"Not anymore."
"No -- not anymore. We just seem to fit so well together and the way you were holding me inside you and cumming on me -- Damn!"
She kissed his chest. "I want to be better than any other girl you've ever had."
He coughed slightly. "You certainly are."
She looked up again. "Really?"
He made an odd face. "You're my first."
She blinked. That was hard to believe. "But, you've had girlfriends -- you have girlfriends, don't you?"
"Sure, but I've never -- you know."
"You were a virgin?"
He nodded. "I mean, I've touched girls and licked them and been sucked, but never actually did this."
"You mean you never fucked?"
"And I still haven't. I think we made love just now."
"And fucked. I think people can do both at the same time."
He looked thoughtful, then nodded. "I'm glad you weren't a virgin, though."
Ursula was puzzled. "Why?"
"Cause this way, nothing we ever do together hurts you. Besides, one of us had to know what was going on!" He laughed gently. When he did that, his cock pulsed slightly inside her.
"I'm glad for that, too," she said. "You sure knew what you were doing with your tongue and that sneaky finger." She giggled. "I really liked that."
"I noticed."
She licked his chest. "And I liked being on top, being in control."
"And doing all the work."
She laughed. "I like the work. Besides, then I don't have worry about being smothered." Ursula revolved her hips slightly and felt him stir inside her. "Again?" she whispered, trying not to sound too hopeful.
"I think so," he said. "In a few minutes, anyhow. But I like this cuddling part. I always figured this would be the best part, and I was right." He hugged her against him. "Dammit, Ursula, you're wonderful."
That simple declaration sent a thrill through her, and the thrill translated into a tightening of her cunt, which in turn speeded the revival of his dick.
"Oooooo -- I like feeling you getting hard inside of me," she whispered and moved her hips in a tight little circle. She felt all the juices -- his and hers -- being stirred by his reawakening cock.
His hands slid down to her ass again and he squeezed briefly.
"That feels so good when you hold my behind," she said, her lips against his chest. Her hips were moving faster on his dick, now that it had almost completely regained its rigidity. But then his hands went to her slim hips and he was guiding her up and off him.
"What?" she asked, bewildered, as he eased her up and away from him. Her cunt was grasping, hungry for the return of his cock.
"Got an idea," he said. He rolled off the bed and stood beside it, then arranged her on all fours at the edge of the bed. He eased forward and then she felt his wonderfully hard, thick knob burrowing into her from behind. He rested one hand on the small of her back as he slid slowly into her, deeper, deeper --
"It's going so deep!" she gasped. Then she felt his hard abdomen against her ass. She put her hand on her little belly as if she could feel him through her flesh. "Oh, it's in me so far!"
"Hurt?" he asked, concern in his voice.
"No! It's wonderful!" She rolled her hips against him and felt the little explosions of pleasure rippling through her belly. She let herself fall to her elbows, leaving her on the bed with her ass hiked up at him. He pulled back till just his glans remained inside and then slid quickly all the way back in, his cock seeming to stretch the end of her tunnel.
"Yes!" she gasped as her cunt began spasming in orgasm. She fell to the bed with her shoulders flat, her hair all in disarray and draped over her face. "Awww yessss!"
He held her narrow little hips firmly in both powerful hands and pulled her back to meet his ever accelerating thrusts. His balls kept swinging forward to brush her clitoris. She came and then came again and then she was just cumming, wildly, unbearably, gasping and yelping with pleasure. At one point, he literally lifted her by her hips from the bed and she hung there, all but impaled on the thrust of his iron-hard dick as he fucked her back and forth on his cock.
"T-touch my ass," she pleaded, "like before! Please!" He let her hips down and moved one hand between them. She felt his digit being slicked with the still copious overflow of her lust juices and then she felt it moved over her little asshole. It had to be his thumb, she knew, because it felt so much thicker back there. Then it was forcing her ass to open and she groaned deep in her throat as it slid in. Now the added pressure was forcing his swollen cock to saw back and forth over that magic spot in her cunt and she just couldn't stop the orgasm for intensifying till it felt as if she had to burst.
His cock felt so good in her cunt and his thumb felt so good working in and out of her tight backdoor that she couldn't believe he'd never done this before. She was sure that if she'd been a virgin, he still would have known what to do and now, for the first time, Ursula regretted losing her virginity before. She wished he could have been her first, that she could have given him her virginity.
And then she realized that she could offer him one virgin gift.
"W-w-wait," she stammered, struggling for coherence through the orgasms.
He slowed and then seemed to force himself to stop completely. "Are you okay?"
"F-f-fine, but I w-want you to -- " She hesitated. She was so tight. "I want you to put it where you're thumb is."
She felt his cock lurch inside her. The idea obviously appealed to him. "I'm afraid it will hurt you."
"I want it in there -- please? I want you to be the first."
"If you're sure -- "
She nodded over-emphatically. "Please!"
His thumb slid slowly out of her ass. She felt an uncomfortably twinge as it was withdrawn. She was tight back there and for the first time began to think it might not be totally pleasurable. It couldn't feel as good as in her cunt, that she was sure of, but there was an aching in her guts for it. That ache, her desire to give him one virginity -- at least -- and a strange thrill at the idea of doing something so unimaginably depraved made her wish more like a craving.
His cock came out of her cunt, which immediately seemed to weep tears of her juice at the departure. But then she felt his knob against her asshole and her attention was focused there. His cock was much thicker than his thumb. Would it tear her? She was grateful now for the abundance of her cunt sauce; his cock would be slick from it.
He pressed forward and she felt her sphincter flutter nervously. She tried to relax it and bit by bit, her asshole spread. The blunt ram of his glans stretched her wider and wider and still the head wasn't inside her. Her asshole was beginning to burn with the tension. She had to get the head into her soon! Ursula groaned and pushed up and back and then she felt her rectum clamp down on his shaft in the depressed spot just behind the glans.
"Are you okay?"
"Just take it very easy."
He pushed forward slowly and Ursula gasped. His cock was so thick! It was stretching the walls of her rectum mercilessly and the deeper he went, the more uncomfortable it became. The friction was too much for her a sob of pain escaped.
He stopped immediately. "This is no good," he declared. "I don't want to hurt you."
"Does it feel good?"
"It's so hot and tight -- that's terrific. Unbelievable! But it's too dry and it's hurting you. There's no lubrication in there."
She felt his shiver behind her and knew that it had to feel even better to him than he was admitting. Nonetheless, he was withdrawing, very slowly.
That hurt even more, and gave her another pain -- of disappointment at not being able to give him her ass cherry.
When the glans was finally out, Ursula scrambled around on her bed and reached over to her dresser. There, on top, was the little jar of petroleum jelly. She unscrewed the lid and scooped a big glob of it out and deposited it on his cock, then smeared it up and down, She gripped his prick tightly as she covered it with the slippery jelly and he groaned a warning: "You're going to make me cum in your hand!"
"Don't -- you -- dare!" she said with mock ferocity. She handed him the jar and assumed her previous position with her ass up at the edge of the bed. "Get me slippery, too! Use plenty of it -- I want you in there and I want it to feel good!"
"You got it," he said softly and then she felt him working a gob of the jelly onto her anus. It felt soothing and cool and good and when his thumb slid inside, there wasn't any discomfort at all -- just a wonderful, warm, powerful stretching.
"Oh, yes, that's good!" she sighed, dropped her face to her folded forearms and wiggling her little butt up at him. She felt the juices beginning to leak from her cunt again. He withdrew the thumb only to return it a moment later with still more of slippery stuff. "Now I want to real thing," she demanded.
She felt him leaning to put the jar on the bed and then his knob was again prodding her backdoor. Again, it seemed it was going to split her open, but this time she knew she could take it and the lubricant eased the way, making it less difficult to relax. She pushed up and back, feeling the ache for him in her guts return and his glans suddenly popped into her tight little ass.
"Ohyesthat'sgood," she breathed. "Ohyesohyesohyes..."
Her babble trailed off into a deep, throaty groan as he packed more and more of his stiff dick into her tight ass. She felt his knob tunneling into her, stretching the constricted walls of her young rectum. She gasped when he reached the halfway point, because there was a sudden discomfort, but then he was beyond it and she felt a wonderful, full glow growing in her ass. She was sure his cock was going to bore right up into her lungs -- it already felt like it was in her stomach -- and then she felt his hard abdomen and wiry pubic hair against her soft ass. "How is it?" she asked.
"Fantastic," he mumbled breathily. "How about you?"
"It feels so strange," she answered, her voice oddly soft and relaxed. "And it feels so -- just strange. But good. Be careful in there."
"Sure." He withdrew slowly, no more than a half inch -- but it felt to Ursula as if she were taking a monstrous bowel movement and it scared her with its intensity. She gasped and he froze.
"Don't stop," she whispered. "Put it back in all the way."
He complied and she felt the glow strengthening. She could feel every ripple and vein in his prick. Every twitch of his cock was as clear to her as if it were her own. In fact, she felt almost as if his dick had become hers at the same time it felt as if his cock was possessing her. She felt utterly wanton and depraved.
Again he withdrew, this time almost all the way. She shuddered at the sensation and then groaned, loud and long, when he pushed back into her.
"Yes! DO that!"
He moved a little faster this time and the sensation was frightening and thrilling. This time he pushed back in even faster and this time she felt her belly flutter and was amazed -- it was good! She might even cum this way!
"Harder," she pleaded. "Harder!"
He began fucking her ass more easily, working his thick young dick back and forth, in and out of her back cavity and sending thrills of pleasure through her. She was so overwhelmed by this new sensation that she was unable to move to meet his thrusts. She was all but limp on the bed as he gripped her narrow hips and pumped her ass. She was submitting herself to him, offering her ass to him to be plundered and he was plundering her in the most delicious way.
"I want you to touch yourself," he gasped.
"What? Why?"
"Do it!" he said sharply. "Put your fingers down there and play with yourself."
She barely had the strength to move her arm, but she got her hand down there. He stopped pumping and reached under her, levering her up with his forearm. He grabbed the pillow and stuffed it under her hips, then released her.
Ursula lay limply on the bed, her face and hair and luscious breasts pressed into the disheveled bedcovers, her rounded little hips hiked up on the pillow so her ass was upthrust.
He took complete advantage of it, ravaging her little butt. Now she felt sure his cock was going into her stomach! It seemed to reach everywhere inside her, displacing all of her innards and taking them over until she felt she was simply filled with this wonderful, reaming cock.
Then her fingers touched her clitoris and Ursula shook. The orgasm seemed to be starting in her ass, but it was also in her cunt and her clitoris! It was tingling through her tits and her legs, through her belly and her hair! She felt as if she were a single organism, dedicated to one function: cumming. Her ass fluttered and rippled. The powerful muscles at the entrance of her rectum tightened frantically, as if trying to grip and hold the pumping length of hot, slippery cock moving in and out of her. She felt totally surrendered and taken and owned by him and what he was doing and she found a kind of freedom in it.
He bent over her. Now his body was lightly against hers -- except at her ass, where his weight was pushing her down onto her wriggling fingers and driving his cock even deeper into her. He was holding his torso off her back by resting on one bent forearm and his face was close to hers.
"I want you to cum forever with me," he whispered.
"Yesss..."
"I want to be the best for you."
"So goooood...cumming and cumming..."
"Yes!"
"I just keep cuuuuming..."
His breathing got shallower and she felt his dick swell still more in the dark confines of her gripping little rectum.
"Yessss -- cum in me there!" she gasped. "Fill me up!"
"Auuuugghhh!" He held his hips against hers and she felt his cock delve deeper and then she felt the burning explosion of his semen in her ass. She could feel every drop, every gush more clearly than she'd ever imagined possible! Her ass clenched on him and he groaned -- and then his cock lurched again and another long spurt of his precious semen was flooding her ass. Her orgasm ballooned in her and then burst and Ursula writhed like a madwoman, impaled on his thick, gushing hose of a cock while she pinched and pressed her throbbing clitoris.
The tension in his body seemed to drain into her through his cock and then he was limp and quivering with the effort of not collapsing on her. He bent farther and kissed her face through her hair as his pulsing dick slowly deflated. Ursula could feel all that hot stuff inside her bowels and the thought thrilled her. She'd drunk his cum, had him fill her cunt to overflowing -- and now she'd milked him with her tight ass. She would leak cum everywhere, but it was his cum and that made it all the better.
He withdrew slowly. Her anus didn't want to release him and when his glans finally came out, there was a slurpy, sucking noise. He raised himself and his weight came off the bed. A moment later and he was back and she felt some cool rubbing over the crack of her ass. She was too weak and spent to do more than whimper, "What?"
"My handkerchief," he explained. "A bit messy back here."
She giggled softly. "I'll bet. You, too."
"I'd say, `No shit,' but that wouldn't be completely accurate."
She giggled again as she heard him moving -- presumably cleaning his cock.
Strong hands rearranged her on the bed next to him and she let herself be rolled into the cradle of his arm, on her back, with her head nestled against his shoulder. He rested one hand on the surprising thrust of her precocious breasts.
She had to know something.
"Do you think -- what do you think of me?"
He kissed the top of her head and caressed her breasts. "I think you're terrific."
"I mean -- do you think I'm bad? Like a slut? For arranging all of this and wanting it and enjoying it?"
"No-oo. I don't think it's bad. A slut fucks anyone, indiscriminately. Is that what you do?"
She thought about it. "No. The first time I did it I was curious and wanted to learn. The second time was -- well, I was hot for the guy. And this is the third and it's because I'm hot for you and have been for a long time. I really, really wanted you."
"But not anymore?"
She rolled onto his chest and kissed each of his nipples. "More than ever. Wanting you was -- is -- right. I want you again and again and I want to be with you and know you and understand you and make you know and understand me."
He shook his head.
"What?"
"Nothing slutty about that." He pulled her up to him and kissed her on the mouth, hard. "I want the same things," he said after he broke off the kiss.
They lingered in each other's arms for a while, and then he arose and dressed. They kissed again at her door and she waved good-bye from her window, reassured by his promise to see her again -- and often. Ursula barely had time to straighten her room and shower before her folks came home.
Of course, that evening Roxanne grilled her, eyes wide and bright as Ursula confided everything they'd done and much of what they'd said. Ursula confirmed that, Yes, the book had been accurate in how much a woman could cum from all those things and she tried -- but suspected that she failed -- to convey how good it was to be licked and sucked down there.
Daniel was true to his word. He came back they saw each other and made love several times before the summer ended. They even went out a few times -- in the afternoon, while her parents were away -- to museums and once to the movies and once he took her on a rowboat in Central Park and bought her a hot dog with all the fixings from a vendor and they lolled under a willow near the secret little waterfall and kissed languorously throughout the last lazy Thursday afternoon of August.
But with the onset of the school year, there were fewer and fewer opportunities. Her parents, she knew, would never permit her to date him formally. Besides, he had his after-school job and she was in her first year of senior high school and was taking clarinet lessons and then there were her studies...
...and then she met Larry, a nice boy from the basketball team and she started hanging out with his crowd and when she asked, her parents gave a cautious go-ahead to request that Larry escort her to a dance ...
...and Ursula and Daniel drifted quietly apart and never saw each other again.
But they never forgot that splendid summer and never regretted a moment of it. And years later, Daniel would see a pretty red-headed teenager and he'd quietly smile and remember, and Ursula would see a young man sitting quietly on a park bench reading and she'd quietly smile and remember. For the rest of their lives, they had stored within themselves an endless, memory-fed glow of those blazing days of glorious passion and unrestrained mutual surrender. No matter how cold the world would seem in later years, that glow reminded them that there was always hope, and the ice never claimed either of them.

-- end --

For 99 percent of those who can read, this is a needless reminder, so I address this to the one percent.
If you enjoyed this story and/or appreciate the time and effort I put into writing it, there's a simple way for you to quietly show that appreciation -- by acting as a responsible BBSer. That means:
Don't let any minors read this;
Don't send it to any BBS that wouldn't welcome it. You may not agree with the SysOp's restriction on x-rated files or stories involving people under 19 (21 in some states), but that's the SysOp's perogative and as a guest/subscriber/user of his or her BBS, you are honor-bound to respect the stated restrictions;
Don't change or modify the file name or the text itself; that's a cheat and we both know it.

On a personal note, I ask you not to remove either this afterward or my handle.

Thanks, in advance.

Last modified (10/09/96 12:16:25) by Eli-the-Bearded.

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