From oddman0ut@hotmail.com Sat Apr 12 22:22:00 1997
Path: news1.infoave.net!news-dc-10.sprintlink.net!news-dc-26.sprintlink.net!news.sprintlink.net!news-east.sprintlink.net!news-peer.sprintlink.net!news.sprintlink.net!sprint!newsxfer3.itd.umich.edu!su-news-hub1.bbnplanet.com!news.bbnplanet.com!news.pbi.net!news.infonex.net!myriad!mail
From: "OddManOut Anywhere" <oddman0ut@hotmail.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: REPOST:  "Mowing the Lawn" mf, teen, oral, cons, 1st
Date: 12 Apr 1997 22:22:00 -0400
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Disclaimer:  Don’t read this if you’ve got a lot of work to do.  You’ll just end 
up doing it all later, with less time to spend.

                                                                   Mowing the 
Lawn

                                                                             by
                                                                          
OddManOut

I have always hated grooming my yard.  It’s what sets me apart from everyone 
else in my neighborhood.  I tell them it’s because I want a "natural" look, but 
the real reason is that I just don’t see the point.  Why should I shell out a 
few hundred bucks for a machine that will chop off my toes, annoy my neighbors, 
and spew more toxic fumes into the air than the tailpipe of a car?

Of course, I couldn’t hold out forever with this mentality.  I may not have 
cared about the yard, or the general neighborhood disapproval, but Sheila did, 
and I ended up getting a lawnmower.  Not an expensive one:  That was my 
rebellion.  I got an old bargain machine at a yard sale for 40 bucks.  Sheila 
laughed when she saw it, and asked if I was still concerned about safety, noise, 
and pollution.  No matter.  I had bought this thing so that I could make it 
fail.

And fail it did.  The first time I mowed the lawn, the engine conked out three 
times from being shoved through the tall grass.  Thereafter, I always made it a 
point to wait until the grass was tall before mowing again, so as to put more of 
a strain on the engine.  I also got the idea of intentionally running over 
sticks and small stones, but this idea was reconsidered when a small piece of 
wood got spewed out of the motor onto my shin, making a gash three inches long 
and plenty deep.  And when I got the bandage on, Sheila still made me go out and 
finish the lawn.

I didn’t have to wait long for my plan to take effect.  Barely a month after its 
purchase, the lawnmower died for good.  I was shoving it through a large thatch 
of grass when it suddenly lost power and began to spew out plumes of oily blue 
smoke.  I shut it off and put it back in the garage, then went in the house and 
told Sheila that it had broken.

From then on, whenever Sheila would remind me that the lawn needed mowing, I 
would be able to say, "I can’t, honey, the lawnmower’s still broken."  Then I 
would go back to reading the paper, or watching the game, or just unwinding on 
the porch.  Sheila would remind me that the mower had been broken for XXXXX 
days, and that we would need to get it fixed, and I would say either 1.)  
"Honey, I’m too busy this weekend to take it in to the shop," 2.) "Honey, it’s 
probably going to cost a lot to fix, and we don’t have the money for that right 
now," or 3.) "Honey, I called the shop.  They said I can’t bring it in this 
weekend, because they’re too busy right now."

My plan was brilliant, except for one factor I hadn’t foreseen:  Two weeks after 
our mower broke, Sheila got the idea of asking one of our neighbors, the 
Fredericks, to lend us their machine.  By this time, our grass was a good four 
inches high, and they were glad to be of assistance, just to see our yard 
assimilated back to the two-inch neighborhood standard.  Once again, I trudged 
over the yard, pushing the damn mower, and missing the first quarter of the 
Niners game.  At least our neighbors’ mower had a bag, so I didn’t have to rake 
clippings.

I suppose I could have gotten around the problem by breaking this mower as well, 
but my conscience kept me from destroying the property of others in pursuit of 
my own laziness.  So I treated it nicely and pushed it back to driveway outside 
the Fredericks’ house.

When I rang the bell, the door was answered by Katie, our neighbors’ daughter.  
Katie was seventeen year old junior in high school.  She was on the track team, 
and the Fredericks had invited Sheila and I to come watch her meets many times.  
She was a very fast runner.  Today she was dressed in baggy sweatpants and a big 
old T-shirt, but I had seen her run enough times to know that the pants hid a 
fantastic pair of strong, tan legs, and that the breasts beneath the shirt were 
both large and firm.  Judging from the way I could see them move, I guessed that 
Katie wasn’t wearing a bra this morning.

"Hi, Mr. Grabel!"  She said, leaning against the doorframe.  "Are you here to 
return the mower?"

"Yes,"  I answered, somewhat out of breath.  The worst thing about mowing my 
yard is that since I don’t do it very often, the tall grass makes pushing the 
lawnmower that much harder.  It’s a vicious circle, really.  

Katie saw my worn-out state and said "You look exhausted.  Do you want some 
lemonade?"  I agreed readily, and she let me into the house.  I stood in the 
foyer, afraid to move lest I drip sweat on anything, but Katie beckoned me to 
follow her into the kitchen in the back of the house.  When I came into the 
kitchen, I found a chair that didn’t look too fancy and sat down as she poured 
me a large glass of lemonade.

I accepted the drink gratefully, and took a long sip as she put the jug back in 
the fridge.  I admired her butt through the sweatpants as she bent over to put 
away the lemonade.  I knew I shouldn’t have looked, but how could anyone not 
look at a butt as fine as hers?  I was able to pull my eyes away by the time she 
stood up and closed the door.

"Thanks for the drink."  I said.  "When you get as old as me, doing these types 
of things can really get you exhausted."  Katie laughed when she heard this.  "I 
can’t believe that, Mr. Grabel.  How old are you, 28?"  "36," I replied, "but 
thanks.  And call me Brad.  Calling me Mr. Grabel makes me feel even older."

"OK."  She said, cocking her head to the side a little.  "It’s not so bad to 
seem older, Mr. G—I mean Brad.  I don’t see any problem with that at all."  I 
was a little confused.  What did she mean by that?  "Well, maybe you don’t have 
any problem with it, but I do.  There’s a lot of things that I could do in high 
school that I can’t do anymore."

"Like what?"  She said.

"Well…"  I started, but stopped for a second to think.  I *did* have some 
examples, but most of them were things you weren’t supposed to talk about with 
your neighbor’s teenage daughter.  "Well, I was able to mow the lawn and not get 
this tired.  And my lawn back then was bigger than my lawn now."

Katie was not impressed.  "So?  Maybe you just need to do it more often.  I mow 
our lawn every week.  It keeps me in shape.  See?"  She pulled up the bottom of 
her T-shirt and invited me to look at her midriff.  I did.  It was very flat, 
and very tan.  I could see a slight tan line just above where her sweatpants met 
her waist.

"That’s true," I said, "but you also do some running, so you have an excuse to 
stay in shape.  Why should I stay in shape?  I’m supposed to be settled down 
now."  Katie looked at my body appraisingly.  "Mrs. Grabel doesn’t mind if 
you’re out of shape?"

That stuck.  "Of course she doesn’t!"  I said it a little too quickly.  Sheila 
*had* been inviting me to come to the gym with her lately, but if mowing the 
lawn was pointless, then paying $20 a month to walk on a treadmill is just 
stupid.  I knew Sheila was going to win on that one anyway:  Ever since she had 
started working out again, she had become more active in bed.  I would have to 
start going with her just so I could keep up with her afterwards.

Katie shrugged her shoulders.  "If I was married to a guy, I’d make sure that we 
were always fit.  I hate guys that are out of shape.  They get so out of breath.  
Oh, sorry Mr.--  Oops, I mean, sorry Brad."

"None taken." I said, lying just a little bit.  "Do you make sure your boyfriend 
doesn’t stay in shape?"  I assumed he would be just as much as a jock as she 
was.  But instead of answering me, she looked away slightly, and shook her head.  
"I don’t have a boyfriend."

This confused me.  "Why not?  You’re gorgeous.  Any guy would want you."  I was 
definitely on the wrong track, because as soon as the words were out of my 
mouth, tears welled up in her eyes and she ran out of the kitchen.  I followed 
her, instantly sorry of whatever I had done.  Katie was a genuinely nice girl, 
and I didn’t want to just leave her with her feelings hurt.

I looked around the house for her, and stopped by the closed door to her room.  
Listening closely, I could hear the faint sounds of crying coming from within.  
I knocked gently.

"Katie?"  I called.  The crying stopped for a second, and I could hear a couple 
of sniffs, but she didn’t answer.  "Katie?  Is it all right if I come in?"  
There was still no answer from inside the room.  I didn’t want to burst in on 
her, but I didn’t want to just leave her in her condition, either.  "Katie," I 
said, "I’m going to come in now, and just tell me to go away if you don’t want 
that."  I gave her a good five seconds to reply, then I gently opened the door.

Katie was slouched on the bed, looking away from me.  She gave a loud sniffle as 
I walked towards her.  "Katie," I said, "why don’t you tell me what’s going on?  
I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings."

"It’s not your fault, Mr. Grabel," she said to the wall, "it’s just that there 
aren’t any boys that want me."  I was dumbfounded.  Katie was gorgeous, with 
long legs and arms and a long thing face that still managed to be cute.  She 
still had the awkwardness of a seventeen year-old, but she was a lot better 
looking than any girl I remembered going to school with.  I decided I needed to 
impress upon her how pretty she was.

"Katie, I just don’t see how that could be true.  You’re young, you’re in great 
shape, you’ve got a great body—"

"What’s so great about my body?"  She asked softly.  Uh oh.  I stammered for a 
few seconds before I decided that it was best to be honest with her.

"Well, Katie, you’ve got great legs.  You’re a runner, so that’s just natural.  
All runners have great legs.  But your upper body is really nice too.  You’ve 
got a nice tan, and your arms look like they’re really strong…"  I held out my 
hand towards her upper arm, "May I?"  Katie allowed me to test her biceps, and I 
continued as I stroked and massaged her arm.  "You’ve got a really strong arms, 
Katie, and that’s really attractive, you know."

She shook her head and shifted her gaze from the wall on the other side of her 
to the window in front of her.  "Boys don’t like that.  All the boys on track 
are going out with soft girls."

"That can’t be true.  None of your girlfriends on track have boyfriends that 
work out?"  She stopped and thought for a second.  "OK, so some of the guys like 
track girls, but they’ve already got girlfriends.  The rest of them don’t like 
girls like me."

"Well, what about other boys?"  I countered.  I had moved down her arm, and was 
now massaging her hand in my own.  She gave my hand a little squeeze and said, 
"I don’t know any other boys."

"Sure you do,"  I countered, "What about boys in your classes?  Aren’t there any 
that seem interesting?"  Done with massaging her hand, I gently tried to pull my 
hand away, but she held me fast and shook her head, looking at the floor.  
"They’re all jerks.  They never talk to me."

I pulled my hand from her grasp and began to rub her shoulder.  "That’s because 
they’re afraid of you, Katie."  She looked at me in terror.  "They are?"  "No!  
No!  I didn’t mean it that way.  I mean they’re afraid to talk to you.  They all 
think you’re too pretty, and aren’t interested in them."  "How do you know that, 
Mr. Grabel?"  She stared at the floor.

I paused a second, hesitant to proceed, then said, "Because that’s the way I was 
in high school, and I know I would have been terrified to talk to you."  "Why?"  
"Because you’re gorgeous!  If you ignored me, I would have been crushed.  It was 
a lot easier to talk about how cool it *would* be to talk to you with my 
friends."

Katie smiled slightly, a definite plus.  "Do you really think I’m pretty, Mr. 
Grabel?"

"Yes," I said, "and call me Brad."  "Thank you, Brad."  She said, and leaned 
over to give me a kiss.  It was a very chaste kiss, just a quick smack on my 
lips, but I was very quickly becoming hard.  I felt it was time to leave and 
began to get up, but Katie grabbed my arm.  "Could you stay with me a little 
while longer, Brad?  I really like talking to you."  If only she knew how much I 
liked talking with her.  Her grip on my arm was light and warm, but it was also 
firm, and I sat back down, slouching a little bit to hide the growing bulge in 
my pants.

"Brad," she said, "if boys are so afraid of me, then how can I get them to talk 
to me?"  I thought for a second.  "How about going up and talking to one of 
them?  You know?  Just pick out a guy you think is really cute, or really nice, 
and go up and talk to him about something."  "Like what?"  "I don’t know, like 
classes.  You can talk to him about classes, can’t you?  And just go from there.  
And if you’re really daring, you can ask him out."

"No way!"  Katie giggled, making her breasts quiver.  "I can’t do that!"  "Sure 
you can," I said.  My erection was now beginning to cause problems.  "It’s just 
like when you kissed me a minute ago.  Just do it."

"Okay."  Katie said, and she leaned forward and kissed me on the mouth again.  I 
had meant that she should just ask the boy out, but I didn’t mind the way she 
interpreted me.  This kiss was longer and slightly harder, and I could taste her 
lips as they met mine.  Katie drew back and looked at me with an odd expression 
on her face.

"Brad?"  "Yes, Katie?"  "Do I kiss okay?"  Now I was in deep water.  "Yes, I 
think so.  It was a little intimate for a friendly kiss, but it was very nice."  
She pouted a little.  "I know how to give friendly kisses.  Could—"  she 
stopped, and let the silence hang in the air.  "Yes, Katie?"  I prompted her.

In a small voice, she said, "Could you show me how to make out?"  I should have 
left the room right then, but I couldn’t.  Katie was staring at me, her eyes 
wide, and it looked like she was about to break down and cry if I said anything 
other than "yes."

"Yes,"  I said.  "What would you like to know?"

"Well,"  Katie bit her lower lip.  "How do you kiss when you make out?  I made 
out with a boy once, and he said I kissed funny."

I thought about that.  "Well, what did you do, Katie?"  "Here, I’ll show you."  
She leaned towards me, puckered her lips, and placed them right on mine.  And 
held them there.  I tried moving my lips around to return the kiss, but she held 
her position.  I gently pulled my head away.

"Well, Katie, I think one thing is that you need to relax your lips more.  Just 
a little bit.  Keep them thrust out, but the lips themselves soft.  Here, feel 
my lips."  I puckered, and Katie lifted a finger to my mouth.  I kept the 
outside very soft, and slightly moist.  When she pushed, her finger was able to 
slide into my mouth slightly.  Before I realized what I was doing, I applied 
some suction, and drew her finger in even more, licking it softly with my 
tongue.  Katie smiled a bit, and drew her finger out.  Then she tried pursing 
her lips like I had, and leaned in for the kiss.

I could smell her shampoo, and a little bit of her sweat.  I figured that she 
must have worked out earlier today.  Our lips were much softer against each 
other now, and much more sensitive.  I sucked in a little, and she sucked back, 
sealing the bond between us.  We held that position for a while, then I tried to 
snake my tongue into her mouth.  Katie jerked back with a giggle, and looked at 
me like I was crazy.

"You didn’t like that?"  I  said.  She didn’t say anything, but kept looking at 
me, noticing that my now-huge erection was causing a very visible bulge in my 
shorts.  Then she leaned back in and kissed me again.  This time we both opened 
our mouths, and her tongue met and slid over mine as we sucked ourselves 
together.  She placed her hand on my leg lightly as we kissed and began to run 
her nails over my thigh.  I gave a desperate thought of Sheila, but it 
evaporated as I slid my hand from her back to her right breast.

I squeezed her through her shirt, feeling the double-smoothness of shirt and 
skin fall away from my fingers.  Katie froze when I did this, and looked me in 
the eye.  She didn’t tell me to stop.  I trailed my hand down her T-shirt to her 
waist, then put my hand under the shirt and rested it on her stomach.

"Usually, when you make out with a boy, he will try to go as far as he can with 
you,"  I whispered in her ear.  "For instance, just now you let me feel your 
breast through your shirt, but I want to feel the bare skin."  Katie’s breath 
quickened as I slid my hand up to the soft mound and found the nipple.  I rolled 
it in my hand, tweaking it slightly.

As I played with her breast, her hand became tight against my thigh.  I leaned 
forward and whispered "You can feel me up too, if you want."  As I moved my 
mouth back to hers, she slid her hand up my thigh and under my shorts, until it 
was inches from my crotch.  She stroked my inner thigh very slowly and 
deliberately as I continued to play with her breast.  I was exploring the inside 
of her mouth with my tongue, running it along the ridges of her teeth gently.

Katie’s hand was still stuck on my thigh, so I broke the kiss.  "You know what 
felt really nice, Katie?  When you were gently running your nails down my leg.  
If you did that now, it would feel incredible."  As Katie began to run her nails 
down my thigh, I grabbed the bottom of her T-shirt and began to pull it up.  She 
took her hand off my leg to allow me to remove the shirt, and I got my first 
look at her breasts in all their glory.  They were very large and firm, with 
only a small bit of sag at the base.  The nipple that I had given so much 
attention to was standing out with a very dark red hue.  Her other nipple was 
still pinkish and a little soft.  As she replaced her hand on my thigh, I 
lowered my head to her left nipple and took it in my mouth.

As I sucked on Katie’s breast, I undid my shorts and pulled them down, leaving 
myself in my underwear.  Not leaving her breast, I took Katie’s hand and guided 
it to my cock, signaling to her that I wanted her to stroke it.  She closed her 
grip, feeling my rod through my soft cotton briefs.  When she gave an 
experimental squeeze, I hissed in my breath and bit on her nipple, causing her 
to gasp in turn.  She began to take the measure of my cock, running her hand up 
my shaft to the head.  When she felt that I was warmer there, she gave another 
squeeze, and I almost came in my pants as I jerked my head away from her breast.

Katie was stunned.  "Did I hurt you?"  "No," I said, placing my hand on her 
thigh.  "I’m very sensitive there.  You almost made me come."  Katie’s eyes went 
wide.  "Can I see it?  When you come?"  I squeezed her thigh and said "Sure.  
But not right now.  I want to hold off for a bit."  I moved my hand up to the 
fork of her legs and took her mound into her palm.  I could tell that she wasn’t 
wearing anything under her sweatpants… nothing substantial, at least.  Katie sat 
nervously as I ran my finger up and down her slit.  All thoughts of Sheila were 
gone now as I stroked her through the fabric.

                       continued in part 2...
"It is only the great men who are truly obscene.  If they
 had not dared to be obscene, they could never have dared
 to be great."
-Havelock Ellis

---------------------------------------------------------
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From oddman0ut@hotmail.com Sat Apr 12 22:22:01 1997
Path: news1.infoave.net!news-dc-10.sprintlink.net!news-dc-26.sprintlink.net!news.sprintlink.net!news-east.sprintlink.net!news.sprintlink.net!news-fw-6.sprintlink.net!myriad!mail
From: "OddManOut Anywhere" <oddman0ut@hotmail.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: REPOST/RETRY:  "Mowing the Lawn"  2/2 mf, oral, teen, cons, 1st
Date: 12 Apr 1997 22:22:01 -0400
Organization: Mail to Usenet Gateway
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Message-ID: <199704122334.QAA05683@f23.hotmail.com>
Content-Type: text/plain
X-Originating-IP: [36.186.0.109]
To: alt.sex.stories@myriad.alias.net

DISCLAIMER:  This is part 2 of a story.  It's got sex in it.  If you don't like 
sex, or aren't suppossed to read about it, then don't read this.

Katie looked worried, so I asked her "Is it all right if I do this?"  She looked 
at me, almost afraid to give me an answer, then nodded her head very slightly.  
"You aren’t—turned off, or anything?"  I laughed as I shook my head no.  "Of 
course not.  Why should I be turned off?  Did you think you were ugly down 
there?"

She didn’t answer, but became visibly more relaxed as I continued to play with 
her slit.  I took my hand away and slid it down the front of her sweat pants.  
She was sopping wet, and when my finger passed through her bush she shivered 
slightly.

I found her slit, and began to push my finger in a little bit.  She whined at 
me, and I kissed her lightly on the neck.  "Is this the way you get yourself 
off?"  She shook her head no.  "How do you get yourself off, Katie?"  In a small 
voice, she said "I just play with my clit.  I haven’t stuck anything up there 
yet.  I’m afraid…"

"Of what?" I asked, when it seemed that she would not continue.  "Are you still 
a virgin, Katie?"  With moist eyes, she slowly nodded her head.  "Don’t worry.  
I won’t break you.  Relax.  Spread your legs a little bit."  I lay down beside 
her, and pushed my finger back into her pussy as I leaned over and began to suck 
on her tit.  "Relax."

My finger slid inside her slowly, due to her tightness, and the nervous clamping 
of her legs.  As I began to stroke her tunnel from the inside, she relaxed 
somewhat, and opened up more.  I brushed up against her hymen, and pushed 
slightly as I bit her tit gently.  Katie whined and began to pull away from my 
finger, so I eased back and worked on her clit.

I took my head off her breast and brought my mouth to hers.  She sucked my 
tongue in greedily, urging me to probe her mouth as much as I was probing her 
vulva.  I pulled my finger out of her wetness, and wiggled her fleshy clit with 
my fingertip before I pulled my hand away completely.  Katie tried to move her 
hips with my hand, but it was no use.  I pulled my hand from under the elastic 
and disengaged myself from her mouth.

Katie watched me intently as I brought my finger up for her to see.  It was 
covered in her juices.  I smelled her essence on my hand for a second, then, to 
her surprise, I put my finger in my mouth and cleaned it of her fluids.

"Eww, gross."  Katie made a face.  "How can you do that?"  "You mean you don’t 
think you taste good?"  I asked her.  "I wouldn’t do that."  She replied.

I slid myself down her body until my torso was nestled snugly between her legs.  
"Well,"  I said, "I like the way you taste, and I think you’re going to like 
this."  I gave her a big grin and lowered my head between her thighs.

"What are you going to do?"  she asked, knowing full well what I was going to 
do.  I started by running the tip of my tongue from the bottom of her slit to 
the nub of her clitoris.  Katie shuddered with pleasure, and her hands shot to 
my head.  She pushed me away for a second with revulsion, then changed her mind 
and pulled my head back to her mound.  "That’s dirty, but I love it."  She 
whispered.  "Don’t stop.  Please."

I didn’t intend to.  I resumed licking her slit and twirling my tongue around 
her clit.  Katie closed her legs and pushed my head down, burying my face in her 
bush.  I stuck out my tongue and snaked it inside of her as far as it could go.  
She tore at my hair as I slithered my tongue over and through her slit.  I 
persevered, and soon she was begging me to keep going.

"Oh, Brad, yeah, keep licking me, yeah, oh god, it’s so dirty, it’s so 
wonderful, don’t stop, no, I like…   oh, oh, OH,  OHHH!"  she curled forward as 
the orgasm raked its way through her frame.  I kept my tongue in her pussy as 
she came down, lapping her gently.  I looked up to check how she was doing.

"How did that feel?"  I asked.  Katie giggled a little bit and gave me a big 
smile as an answer.  "I thought you’d like that."  I said.  "Can I see your…"  
Katie looked a little embarrassed, "you know."

"Certainly,"  I said, and I placed my hand next to her head for her inspection.  
"Not your hand, silly!  Your… you know, your thing."  "And what is that thing?"  
I wanted to hear her say it.

"Your dick"  she said in a soft voice.  Katie looked up at me.  "Please?"  I 
stood up and pulled down my briefs, then lay back down next to Katie, positioned 
so that my cock was almost resting on her breasts.  Katie stared at it, brought 
forth her hand, then stopped.

"It’s okay,"  I said.  "Touch it."  I was rock hard at this point, at my full 
seven inches.  A little bit of pre-come leaked from my head.  Katie ran a finger 
over the shaft, testing the smoothness, and the way the skin slid easily over 
the flesh beneath.  She made a ring around my cock with her finger and her 
thumb, and began to jerk me off gingerly with the ring.

"You can squeeze, if you want."  I said.  "Show me how."  She whispered.  I 
pulled her hand off, and showed her how I gripped my cock.  When I let go, she 
emulated me, carefully wrapping her fingers around me as if my penis was made of 
crystal.  "Now move your hand up and down."  I told her.  "Stroke me."

Katie squeezed me lightly and began to pump my penis.  Her grip was firm enough 
to stimulate, but still light enough to make my cock expand, begging for more.  
I leaned in for another open-mouthed kiss and began to play with her pussy 
again.  Katie eagerly returned the kiss and pressed her mound up into my hand.  
Her movements on my cock became a little more rapid and less controlled as I 
continued to stroke her clit.

"Put my balls in your other hand," I said quietly, breaking the kiss and pulling 
my finger from her snatch.  She gently ran her hand over my testicles as she 
continued to stroke my penis, carefully avoiding the pre-come that was running 
over the head.  As I licked her juices from my finger, I lay back and enjoyed 
her ministrations.

What Katie did next surprised me.  Leaning forward, she blew her hot breath over 
the head of my penis.  I looked up when I felt this, and almost came on the spot 
at the sight of Katie’s mouth barely an inch from my member.  She turned her 
head and looked at me.

"Does it taste, you know, okay?"  I brought my finger to my cock and took a 
little bit of pre-come from the tip, presenting it to her mouth.  Katie looked 
reluctant to taste, so I brought my finger to my mouth and licked it clean.  
Normally I only tasted my semen on Sheila’s tongue, but I felt this situation 
called for more extreme measures.

"I think I taste sweet,"  I told Katie.  I brought my finger down for another 
dollop and said "want to try?"  Nervously, she stuck out her tongue and touched 
it to the bit of semen on my finger.  She held her position for a second, trying 
to discern the taste, then licked the rest of the come from my hand.  "I guess 
you taste okay," she said, "you’re kind of sweet."

"Thank you,"  I said.  "Would you like to take me in your mouth?"  Katie looked 
at me in horror.  "Please?"  I said.  "You know, if you do this to a boy, he’ll 
be more likely to eat you out, like I just did."  That seemed to embolden her, 
but she still wasn’t convinced.  "I won’t get… sick or anything, will I?"  I 
shook my head no, and she dipped her head to lick the underside of my penis.  
She started out with light licks, but as she grew accustomed to my taste, her 
tongue became more bold.  Soon she was running her tongue the full length of my 
cock, from my root at the base to the top of my glans.  It felt heavenly, and 
became even more so when, without any prompting from me, Katie positioned her 
mouth above my cockhead and circled the bulb with her tongue.

"Yes!  That’s wonderful!"  I gasped, and Katie gave me a quick grin before she 
returned to work on my penis.  Unafraid now, she opened her mouth and let my 
head slide in.  Her tongue darted over me, swirling around my head before it 
returned to the top to lap up any pre-come that may have leaked out.  She 
continued this torture for a couple of minutes before she decided to see how 
much of me she could take in her mouth.  I had to restrain myself from shoving 
into her face as she lowered her head on my penis.  She was going so slow as to 
be almost imperceptible, the only giveaway of her motion being the steady 
increase of warmth around my cock.  As she went, she continued to swirl her 
tongue around my shaft, treating me like a long peppermint bar.

Katie had to stop after getting five inches of me into her mouth.  It wasn’t 
exactly a deep throat, but I wasn’t about to force her to take the last couple 
of inches.  She pulled back a little bit to make herself more comfortable, and 
began to concentrate on using her tongue to turn me on.  She was very successful 
at this, and soon my cock was stiffer than I had ever experienced.  As she laved 
my cock with her tongue, I guided one of her hands to my balls.  She cupped them 
gently, and began to squeeze me in time to her licks on my shaft.

After a few minutes of this treatment, I was in ecstasy.  "I’m going to come 
soon, you know."  I told her.  "Would you like to taste it?"  Katie came up for 
air from my penis, and considered the offer.  "Does it taste any different from 
this?"  She asked, licking up a little bit of my pre-come.  "No,"  I said, 
"there’ll just be a lot more of it."  With a little smile, she asked "Do you 
want me to taste it?"  "Yes, I would love that."  I said, smiling back.  "Okay," 
she said, "then I will."

Katie took me back into her mouth and began to suck harder, milking my cock as 
well as she could.  It wasn’t long before she had returned me to the edge of my 
climax.  Noticing that my body was tensing up, she sucked and worked her tongue 
even harder than before, which triggered me into a thunderous orgasm.  As the 
waves swept through me, I began to shoot my load into her mouth.

The first blast caught her by surprise, and she opened her mouth and let it drip 
down my mouth.  As soon as she realized what was happening, however, Katie 
clamped her lips back around my cock and began to suck out the come from my 
body.  I poured squirt after squirt into her mouth, which she sucked directly 
down her throat.  After my orgasm subsided, she continued to work on me, making 
sure that I had spent my entire load.  When she finally let me slip out, she 
began to lick the base of my cock clean, where she had allowed some gobs of 
semen to spill.

"So how did you like it?"  I asked when she finished.  "It was fun,"  Katie 
replied between licks of my penis.  "Your skin tastes nice.  The come tastes OK, 
I guess, but your skin tastes nice.  I like sucking on it."  To prove her point, 
she took my now limp dick in her mouth and ran her tongue around the head once 
before letting it slide out again.  "So when will you need to borrow our lawn 
mower again?"

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Five days later, I said to Sheila "Honey, I’m going over to the Fredericks’ to 
borrow their mower."

Sheila was incredulous.  "But the lawn’s barely grown, Brad.  I thought you 
didn’t like mowing it."

I gave her a kiss on the cheek as I walked out the door.  "I know, Honey, but 
I’ve begun to enjoy the exercise."

                             THE END

"It is only the great men who are truly obscene.  If they
 had not dared to be obscene, they could never have dared
 to be great."
-Havelock Ellis

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