Author’s note: This is my first story...no clue what to state here other than: enjoy?

2/19: revised, after consultation with some others, I am going to change the age range to the original age I had envisioned.  Also extending the story to the third of three encounters.

Please email me with feedback.  I desperately need it to feed my ego and lessen the blows of inadequacy that race through my head in real life on a regular basis :D

Also - yeah, this is fantasy.  Not reality.  Fantasy.  Check the dictionary if you need to....I'll wait.
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She came to the door, as usual: pert, perky and sweet. Our friends' youngest daughter, a darling sophomore in high school, dropped off by Jim and Kathleen at the front door on their way to their beach house for the weekend, Carrie was your typical cutie: lots of bouncy hair pulled up in a ponytail, that fresh, smooth skin, pouty lips and casual, sloppy style of dressing for a night in front of the TV. She bounced in, kicked off her flip-flops, said 'Hi' with her bright smile and glided in through the kitchen to the living room with that "no worries, go have fun and I'll take care of everything" attitude. She tucked one foot under her leg, checked her mobile, popped the TV on and __lounged__ (she could have been an Olympic lounger if she put her mind to it).

I had drunk in her sight so many times I could describe her with my eyes tied behind my back: glossy, shiny dirty blonde hair, the kind you knew just smelled of vanilla and berries; smooth, clear face with smoky hazel eyes, impossibly soft lashes, slightly upturned button nose and soft, plump, innocent lips that more often than not pursed into a knowing smirk whenever our eyes locked.  Her body was slim but blossoming, with the telling signs that at any moment some seriously head-swelling curves would be busting out all over her.  As it was now, the most delectable curves resided at her hips, where any piece of clothing she wore seemed to rest perfectly, as if photoshopped, on her hips low enough to always draw your eyes inward to her belly and down, leaving you with the feeling that those hips should be registered as deadly weapons.  Not content to devastate men with her front side, Carrie also packed a hypnotic ass, curvaceous and meaty and thick from her years on the softball diamond and lacrosse field.  All in all I envied, nay, hated, the boys who came in contact with her on a daily basis.

Not that I could ever do anything about it, of course...

She'd become so comfortable at the home, we didn't even bother with the whole "phone numbers on the fridge, list of allergies, blah, blah, blah" deal; just said our quick goodbye and told her we'd be home in 3 hours or so.

Unfortunately, in little less than an hour, we were back. My wife Ellie, usually the "all-night, drink and dance" girl, was knocked out with a headache and we called it quits way too early. She slunk into the house, took her medicine, and headed straight for our bed. She turned at the stairs with an "oh shit" look - normally she drove Carrie home. Just a little something we like to avoid - that sense of impropriety that comes from a man and a blossoming young woman alone together for any stretch of time. You never knew what could happen, or what could be insinuated, so best to avoid it all together.

But there was no avoiding it tonight. I had to be the one to drive her home, as Ellie's medication is like a right-cross from Mike Tyson before the ear-biting, face-tattooing era. So I grabbed the keys and said "Let's go". She peeled herself from the couch, stretching and yawning, curling her hands into little fists above her head, letting her t-shirt ride a little too far up her belly. Her low-slung sweatpants with the waist rolled down, combined with the rising t-shirt, gave me an all-together delicious view of her soft, tanned, smooth, unblemished belly and curvaceous hips.

"This" I thought, "is going to be the longest 15 minute drive of my life."

She came to the front hall and bent to pick up her flip flops, exposing her equally delicious backside with just a hint of the deep rose, lacy top of her underwear encasing what I was sure was a firm, meaty pair of ass cheeks.

"A very, very.....very long ride" I said to myself.

She led the way out the front door, popping a chocolate lolipop into her mouth as she pushed through the door, flip flops in hand, bare feet slapping against the wood floor and onto the front porch. I trailed closely behind, turning to pull the door shut behind me. 

"Oh shit" she said, turning too quickly to race back into the house, instead turning directly into my chest as I was stepping out of the house. I could do nothing but reach to grab her, lest I risked barreling her over and knocking her down the steps. My arm came around her waist and we stopped...time stopped....my heart stopped...my breathing stopped...for what seemed an eternity, as I gently but firmly held her body tight to mine with my hand at the small of her waist, her hands and arms pulled close together under her chin, pulled into my chest, us both trapped between a closing steel front door and an annoyingly squeaky screen door.

"I uh...I forgot my....phone" she said, looking down, not daring to look into my eyes.

I sidled around her, willing myself to stop touching her, feeling the blood pumping madly through my ears, into my brain, down my chest. Feeling my chest breathing so shallowly, my fingers shaking, my pulse pounding, my mind racing, I finally made it down the stairs as I watched her glide into the door and run down the hallway to retrieve her phone from the living room.

"holyshitholyshitholyshit" was all that kept running through my head. 

I went to the car and started it up and waited. And waited. And waited until I was just about to run back in and ask if she was ok when she scared the HELL out of me by whipping the door open and jumping in.

Her face was flush, her eyes looked everywhere but to me, and her breathing was like she had just run a marathon.

I had to stay cool. I was the grownup here. I had to pretend that it was no big deal. So I popped the car into reverse and spun around to look back as I pulled out...at JUST the moment she decided to look down and buckle her seatbelt. 

We were inches from each other. I could taste the chocolate on her breath, feel the air rushing out of her lungs down across my neck, smell the mix of shampoo and lip gloss and candy and sweat from her skin and hair. 

Remaining cool was out of the question.

I moved my head imperceptibly closer to her. "Just to smell her" I promised myself. Just to remember what its like to be a young turk seeking any sexual experience available. 

Just to...

I had lost my train of thought as her cheek glided across mine. She was moving slowly, achingly slowly, reaching out with her face to stroke my cheek. Nuzzling. 

I dropped one hand to her thigh, the other to my lap. She jumped. I jumped. Our lips touched.

I had to play it straight with her. I did not want this to go wrong. It would, obviously, be a disaster in so many ways. I told her "Look, you have got me seriously turned on. But, we can't. we can't...ummm".

Once again, I was interrupted in my train of thought as her eyes locked on mine and widened, her mouth opened into an slight 'O', there was a sharp intake of breath and I slowly realized that the hand squeezing my cock through my pants was not mine.

She said "Can you just drive me home?".

The breathing exercises we were both performing echoed through the car, creating a deafening silence of white noise.

I waited ... one beat... two beats...four beats... willing my heart to __slow down__

"Of course, of course" I said. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean anything by that." But I realized she seemed to have no intention of removing her hand from my cock. She held onto it as I backed out of the driveway. 

As I drove, cautiously and slowly down the dark streets, she looked away, put her feet up on the dashboard, sucked on her chocolate lolipop, and did all manner of things that a bored kid in a car will do...except she never released my fricking cock from her frickin grip. It was maddening, and insanely enjoyable as I drove with this young lovely squeezing and probing every inch of my manhood.

After 5 minutes on the road, she quietly, almost silently, asked "Can I see it?" as she continued to gaze out the window.  I replied with nothing but an opening of my hands away from the steering wheel, inviting her to do as she saw fit. She scrunched down in her seat and moved her face closer and closer to my crotch as she started to unzip my pants. She fished inside, struggling to clear it from the bonds of clothing. Her hands were small and soft and gentle, not knowing how to handle this new-found discovery but struggling mightily to do something before the ride was over.

Eventually, with my help, my cock sprang free and she wasted no time sidling up to it, brushing her cheek against it and, eventually, curling her tongue along the underside.

I told her "I will cum if you aren't careful" and she responded by saying "oh God would you?"

"Are you...you know...like, wet between your legs?" I asked. Shakespeare, I was not. Spicoli was rearing is ugly head again.

"wicked..." she moaned into my lap. 

"If you wet your finger and let me taste it, I promise I will cum.". I didn't know what I was saying or thinking anymore, I simply knew that a smell or taste of such a sweet, young, inviting pussy would probably be worth its weight in gold right now to me. I could feel the heat and smell her scent emanating from between her legs, and my tongue drooled thinking about her taste.

She quickly lifted her ass off the seat and peeled her sweatpants down, along with her wet panties, to reveal a gorgeous, smooth, tanned pair of thighs with a very sexy pussy in between. Her lips were swollen, and her clitoris poked out unusually high from the rest of her pussy. Small tufts of soft blonde pubic hair surrounded the top of her mound, making for the most appetizing meal I had seen in ages. Her fingers dipped quickly, but deeply, into her pussy, curling around as if withdrawing honey from a jar. I could make out her glistening fingers as they came out from the warm depths of her folds and moved toward me. Strands of juice webbed between her fingers, slowly sliding down to her knuckles.

"My God, I am going to taste her" was all I could think as her fingers inched closer and closer to my mouth. She was staring intently at me, waiting for me to make a move, wondering how much I wanted to taste her fluids. I slowed to a crawl on a deserted side street and turned to her, looking her in the eyes as I opened my mouth and pulled her fingers in. I licked and sucked on her sticky sweet fingers until I had her scent and taste and DNA memorized. Then she withdrew her hand and moved back down to my crotch, saying "you promised."

As if on cue, my cock could handle no more. Sensing her warm breath so near to me, tasting her pussy rolling along my tongue, imagining my face buried between her legs, I started to squirt. For the first time in probably 30 years, without any other stimulation, I shot a thick, creamy white load out and across my pants. 

She watched as it oozed out and down my shaft. I had the urge to push her head down to suck it and lick it, but I pushed that out of my head as I watched her innocent fascination. 

She watched from that angle, her sweatpants and panties still at mid-thigh, as I made the last few turns to her house. Thankfully everything was dark as I pulled into her driveway. I could barely whisper a word, my throat was so dry, my head so full of twisted thoughts. She reluctantly rolled up on her knees and pulled her pants up, giving me one last longing look at her perfect ass and glistening thighs. She turned and whispered 'goodbye' and was gone into the house.

I looked down as the overhead light started to fade away. My cock was out and lagging to one side, cum still drooling out. My pants were a bit of a mess: cum and chocolate spotted here and there in my lap. I wiped them down as best I could, zipped up, and started the long, arduous drive home, hoping my wife was fast asleep by now.

I never knew *that* could happen.

================================================================
Fifteen days, fourteen nights.  That's how long it had been since the night Carrie and I had....had what?  What had we done?  I went over it in my mind every 3 or 4 minutes, constantly trying to relive that precious 15 minute window in my car.

I had struggled back from my short drive with Carrie, my pants still stained with my cum, her chocolate lips and her scent.  Sneaking into the home, achingly slow, listening for sounds that my wife was up and about after a crushing headache left her heading to bed less than an hour ago, I shuddered with some relief in the realization that I *may* just get away with this.  I quickly tossed my clothes into the waiting washer, making sure to shove them underneath a pile of dirty laundry waiting to get washed.  Step 1 complete.  I went to the bathroom mirror to check myself out, ensure no stains or incriminating evidence (like the juice that dripped from her fingers after they had dipped deeply into that succulent, inviting nirvana of a pussy) were lingering.  Step 2 complete.  I went and sat at the kitchen table, shaking my head in the dark, a splash of moonlight falling across me and my giant, dumbstruck smile.  I reached down instinctively and rubbed my still hard cock.  I licked the palm of my hand and started to stroke, imagining Carrie bent over the table, her meaty, fleshy ass cheeks spread wide, her sweet brown hole winking at me and her delicate little pussy lips spread and waiting for my cock to split.  I imagined her gorgeous face turned to me in the moonlight, urging me with her shining eyes to plunge into her pussy, licking and nibbling her upper lip in anticipation.  One, two...I didn't even get to a third stroke before I shot yet another large load of cum across the kitchen table, all the while imagining it riding up inside her tunnel, splashing across her vaginal walls and dripping off her moist lips.  Step 3 complete.

After that night, my cock was incorrigible.  I fucked the hell out of my wife.  I jerked off in the shower, on the toilet, in bed, in my office.  I would watch TV and get hard from a Disney cartoon movie, and I would have to go jerk off again.  I couldn't stop thinking about her.

And then the call came.  The call from Kathleen inviting us all over to the house for a swim before the summer ended.  An off-and-on tradition that started on our first year moving to the neighborhood. I thought back to how it was back then.  Us with one child, Jim and Kathleen with two toddler girls running around in their swimming wings, the ladies with their cocktails, Jim with his beer and I with an iced tea (no booze for me, I was always the designated driver as I stopped drinking years back).  Life was simple, and my heart rate was steady.  But now, thinking about showing up at their house, seeing Carrie, trying to talk to everyone as if nothing happened made my heart skip more beats than I cared to imagine.

On the Saturday of the invite, my wife headed over early, taking the Suburban and our three kids around noon.  I was left finishing off some work on the back deck, seriously considering the possibility of staying there all day and simply begging off from the party, when the phone rang and it was Jim cajoling me into coming over.  I couldn't say no at that point, so I obliged and told him I would be over in a few minutes.  Before I went, I did what I had to do - I jerked off one more time.  I thought of her lips quivering as she eased her glorious pussy onto my face, her body trembling with anticipation as a drop of juice oozes its way from her precious lips to my thirsty tongue.  Yes, yet another 30 second cum session - I was getting to sense that I, or at least my cock, had discovered the fountain of youth.  What was next, acne and a voice change?

Pulling into the driveway - that same driveway I last saw her gorgeous naked ass in my car - I took a deep breath and headed for the backyard.  The house was situated in the front of the plot of land, with the pool off the rear, isolated by a small plot of wooded area and a flower garden, so it almost seemed like a small walk in the woods down to a pond.  It was a wonderful setup, since there was a bathroom and changing room and bar and all manner of amenities down there, so it was almost a vacation spot in their own backyard.

As I entered the area, I took in the view:  my kids launching themselves over and over into the pool, Kathleen and my wife in bikinis sitting at the bar laughing and spilling their drinks, Jim testing the pH of the pool, obligatory beer in one hand and test kit in the other, and his older daughter draped over a lounge chair in a thin red bikini with the straps pulled down.  I thought about her for a moment - gorgeous girl, perfect nose, perfect face, silky dark hair falling to her shoulders, and a total stuck-up cunt.  So unlike Carrie, so cold and snooty.  I had grown to avoid her completely, and she had appreciated the distance.

'No Carrie'.  The thought struck me in the gut with such force that I winced, physically winced, and made Jim stop mid-wave and give me the look of "what, did a bug just bite your balls or something?".

And just as that thought lingered long enough to give me an ounce of hope that I wasn't going to make a complete and utter fool of myself in front of wife, kids, and good friends, I heard that "swish" of the slider door and knew I was far, far, far from out of the woods.  As she strolled out onto the deck from 30 feet away, I sensed time stop - birds hung in mid-air, the noises from the pool shattered and spilled silently across the lawn, even the asshole nextdoor who always thinks its genius to mow the lawn on a perfect weekend at mid-day seemed to have been caught in a bubble and rendered silent and still - as she took her first step from the house onto the deck.  I recognized the "whomp, whomp" sound of my heart beating at decibels just shy of a Sikorsky helicopter at full throttle 10 feet from the ground.  I realized my distance vision had suddenly become so accute as to recognize and catalogue every ripple, every dot, every subtle blemish of her immaculate skin from head to toe, all in a matter of microseconds.

If a person was capable of being liquified and consumed instantaneously, this is what it would be like.  I literally _drank_ her in as she made her entrance.

And for all that, for my heart beating like a cartoon character, my tongue rolling out like a Mel Brooks movie, my wolf whistles still echoing in my head; for all that, I got the tiniest little "hey" from her as she headed over to the shady part of the yard with a book.

'Hey'?  SRSLY?  Is this what I just sweat blood for, what I just risked my entire life (oh yeah, Jim owns a shotgun and a temper) for?  A 'hey'? 

The rest of the day proceeded as normal as any other.  I was the perfect guest - charming and friendly and funny, telling jokes, making everyone feel warm and happy and loved.  Sure, I ate my corn-on-the-cob with mayonaisse instead of butter, I may have accidentally knocked the lounge chair into the pool, burned my hand on the hot grill as I chatted with Jim, and gave my wife a bloody nose when I oh-so-quickly turned away from looking at Carrie across the pool and smacked right into her alarmed face with that look of "did you just turn into a retard, a deaf mute or some combination of the two 'cuz I've been calling you for 5 minutes from 5 feet away".... yeah, I was cool as a cucumber.

================================================================
After a few hours, a fat meal, and a margarita for the wife, it was time to head home.  Kids strapped in the minivan, wife doing the "air kisses", me standing in my bathing suit and t-shirt and flip-flops, leaning against my car and swinging my keys like a complete dumbass in the driveway.  And that's when she came out.  Still in her bikini with a white semi-see-through t-shirt over it, bare legs glistening, perfect feet flipping (and flopping) along the driveway.  The t-shirt reached down to just the right height to give the effect that I was seeing something I shouldn't be, like her miniskirt was just too short and her panties were peeking out.  My gawd, I was an irreversibly lecherous man.

"Hey, you remember when you drove me home the other night?" she says to me, bearing full steam towards me.

'O. M. F. G.' says I to myself, because I talk to myself in teenspeak 'is she going to accuse me of something?? right here?!?!  right now???!?'

"Drove you....drove you..." says I "...oh yeah, sure, of course, a couple of weekends ago .... or something."  The gods of oratory genius must be crumbling to their knees in worship of my linguistic talents; every 007 agent that has every existed must, at this very moment, be marveling at how calm, cool and collected I can appear in the face of such violent teen danger.

"Did I leave my book in there?"

"Did YOU he-he-he" chuckled I, outwardly gufawing (is that even a word) at the absurdity of it all while inwardly my organs, individually and collectively, made the biggest sigh of relief known to man.

I swung to the driver's side, opened the door as smoothly as a man can under these circumstances, and proceeded to pretend that I was looking for something that so obviously didn't exist.  I pulled the visor down, opened the ashtray, moved the headrest - all places a book could likely be hiding.  As I did so, she looked in through the passenger window and surreptitiously handed me a little tiny multi-folded handwritten note.

'A NOTE' said I (to myself again).  How deliciously sweet and pure and lovely.

I quickly tucked it into my shorts where it rested next to my ballsack.  OK, OK, not the most romantic gesture, but....I had to conceal it some way.  

The entire 15 minute ride home, following the wife in the minivan, the little edges of that sweet delicious note pinched and poked and tortured my nuts but I dared not retrieve it for fear, honestly, that I would either (a) cum all over it before I had a chance to read it, or (b) smash into a telephone pole as I attempted to read it while driving.

Screeching into the driveway I skipped up and into the house through the garage before my wife had a chance to unbuckle her seatbelt.  With a shout of "gotta hit the bathroom" I lurched into the house, scurried up the stairs and slipped into the master bathroom for a little "me time".

Dropping my shorts and settling onto the toilet, I carefully reached into the bathing suit netting and retrieved the precious little communique, spinning it in my hand, contemplating what it contained, carefully assessing every fold, every crease, every pen mark to ensure its contents would be fully understood once opened.

Upon opening it I found the note written like so many school term papers, though much shorter, but still adhering to the lined paper, blue ink employed, lots of swirly letters and even a few heart bubbles where the dots should be.  It read:
"Sorry I was such a bitch today.
You make me really nervous 2b around, 
like I don't wanna do the wrong thing.
Hope you don't hate me.
If you don't, I wanna talk to you.  You culd
meet me @ the Barker's house down the street.
No one is home and the street light is broken so
no one can see u if u pick me up there.
9 2nite?"

The Barkers....no clue who they are, but I assumed they owned the big lot at the end of J&K's cul-du-sac.  Very isolated and dark, especially if no one is home and the street light is indeed broken.  A perfect place for an elicit tryst.  Now how the fuck do I get there without arousing suspicion?

I spent hours thinking of the perfect excuse.  I considered (mildly) poisoning the cat and rushing her out for emergency surgery.  I poked through the refrigerator 100 times looking for something we don't have that we NEEDED this instant.  I set my Facebook status to "what's on my mind?? nuthin" hoping against hope that one of my friends would invite me to help rescue some Swedish models trapped in a bowling palace after having their shoes stolen by some insidiously evil homeless people and no way to walk home because their modeling contract doesn't allow them to wear anything heinous (a man can dream, can't he?).

In the end, I gave up.  No excuse seemed possible or plausible.  I resigned myself to disappointing that sweet girl left standing in the dark in front of the Barker's place.  Until my wife spoke up.

"Hon, you seem restless.  Why don't you go browse the bookstore and then bring us home a latte?"

'A LATTE??  RESTLESS?? IS THAT ALL IT TOOK?!?!?'

These thoughts ran through my head as, in one swift motion, I said "okgoodbyeseeyoulater", leaped over the couch, grabbed the keys, slid down the banister and out the door landing into my car through the open window turning the key and punching the gas....aaaaaaand, taking my foot off the gas before shifting it into reverse .....and then PUNCHING the gas again as I squealed out of there.

Gliding smoothly, stealthily down the cul-du-sac, I caught a glimpse of Carrie hanging back towards the wood bordering the Barker property.  I slowed to a crawl so she'd recognize me, and pulled to a stop as she came to my car and hopped in with a smile and a laugh.

"I cannot _believe_ you came!  OMG that is so great I was so nervous about you seeing the note or not reading it or being upset and now here you are and I am just all butterflies and nervous and crazy and its weird because maybe I shouldn't be nervous but you seem just so, like cool about everything that I feel, like, I dunno, just weird?"

'OK, wow....that's a lot of talking' I thought.  Then I thought "OK, wow, I taste cherries and smell vanilla and feel smooth soft....ooooooohhhhh....those lips were on mine, those plump, succulent, gorgeous lips of hers kissing my mouth, pushing her tongue out in an urgent need to carress my lips.  My god, it was heaven.  I slid my hand behind her head and steadied her as I regained control of my breathing and started to kiss back, slowly prying her lips apart, gently coaxing her tongue back inside her mouth where I could meet with mine, where I could glide and carress and lick and touch her inside, enveloping her lips with mine, snaking my tongue across her tongue, intertwining them, feeling her saliva coat my mouth, feeling her heat rise from her neck and cheeks, feel her heart pound madly, feeling her breath escape her nose and tickle my chin as her breathing slowly normalized.

I cupped her head by her ears, gently, and began to glide my wet mouth down along her neck, kissing and carressing every inch of her skin as I moved downward.  I continued my loving assault on her tender neck as her breathing became increasingly shallow and her hands worked furiously below me.  Never leaving her skin, a glance down revealed that she was furiously undoing her button-fly jeans as if they were on fire, working to expose herself to me.  By the time I was reaching the cleft between her breasts, that soft, velvet canyon where I believe I could rest my head for eternity with its subtle scent of vanilla and clean, pure persperation that could only come from a young teenaged girl in the throes of her first passion, she had managed to wrangle her jeans down to mid-thigh, exposing a delicate pair of lace panties half-rolled down her left thigh, half-hiked up along her right waist.  Her pubic area was glistening, glowering, mad with heat, and shaved completely free of hair, nothing but smooth white skin and an ever-growing clitoris poking out from between her reddening lips.

Were I vulture, this would have been my carrion.  Were I bear, this would have been my honey-dipped salmon.  Were I tiger, this would have been my blood-dripping piece of meat (were I Tiger, this would be an average day after 18 holes, amIright?!? can a fella get a rimshot??  Thank you, I'll be here all week...try the veal).

I stared for a moment, breathing in her heady scent, saying a silent prayer to the gods of perversion and lattes and chocolate lolipops, without whom none of this would have been possible, and thinking to myself that this is what a man in the desert must think of when he is about to die of thirst and hunger - the most beautiful, the most delicious, the most succulent dish ever presented to him.  As I paused, I sensed she was hesitant, gauging my reaction to her boldness.  I looked her in the eye, as seductive as I could, kissed her on the lips, and proceeded to glide my head down between her legs and feast like the dog that I was.

I pulled one leg of her jeans off and scissored her in such a way that I had enough access to those luscious lips while still being seated in the driver' seat (no mean feat, I assure you).  Her lips were literally dripping with juice, that same elixer I had tasted and yearned for from that last encounter.  I dug my tongue in between those lips and glided bottom to top, curling my tongue to ensure every drop of her nectar was on my tongue.  Each time I did this, the tip of my tongue brushed along her growing clitoris and sent electric charges through her body, making her spasm and shiver and shake and, in response, produce more and more gushing juice, of which I was only too obliged to consume.  

Her pussy was so pristine and (hardly) used, unlike the mothers of our children, that it was still compact and therefore readily fit inside my mouth.  My mouth covered her completely, and in doing so I was able to suckle her, sucking more and more of her delicious liquid out of her body, stimulating her more and more as I made vicious animal sounds and noises between her legs, bringing her to the point of ectacy where she could no longer control herself.  Her right hand mashed against the fogging window, her left digging holes into my scalp, she urged my head and mouth to remain locked on her pussy as she stiffened, stopped breathing, and and succumbed to le petite mort, flooding my mouth with a copious mixture of liquid gold, a pungent but mind-numbingly delicious mixture of natural, musky lubricant and thick, heady urine.

A series of stifled sharp intakes of breath, a viciously gutteral string of 'ohmygods' and a deep, long, bone-cracking shudder finally brought her out of her daze and back to me.  I sat, like a puppy, between her legs, glistening ear to ear from her juices, panting, red-faced and smiling like a complete loon while she tried to drink it all in.

"What.  Thefuckwasthat" she said, incredulously.  "I have never ever ever EVER done that before ohmygawd".

She smiled the same stupid smile I am sure was on my face.  She grasped my head and pulled me up from between her legs and she kissed me - a simple, sweet, lips closed kiss that meant the world to me.  Then she grunted and pinched my cheeks, the way Mama used to do when I looked so cute going to school on my first day.

It was heaven. 

I needed a latte. 

And a shower.....

==================================================
I walked around in a daze for about a week or so.  Nothing serious, of course, just the usual, like drinking my coffee with my tie hanging in the cup, wearing different shoes on each foot, staring off into space with the goofiest of smiles for...like 2 or 3 hours at a time during work.  Luckily, it being summer, so many people were focused on the weather and on vacations it seemed I could glaze through work for the unforeseeable future and no one would notice.  My home life, however, was a different story.  My wife was ALL OVER ME.  I mean, we were fine before with sex, but suddenly she couldn't keep her hands off me. Of course, that was likely due to the fact that I could not keep my mouth off her pussy, sending her into earth-shattering multiple orgasms ever since that night with Carrie.  Freudian?  I guess, if you subscribe to that kind of mumbo-jumbo.  I considered something more rational - Carrie's pussy had obviously turned me into some sort of zombie-vampire who had to sustain himself on pussy juice or die.  What?  Its a theory.

Mid summer struck and Fourth of July celebrations were upon us.  As usual, we gathered with a few families from the neighborhood at the park to watch the town fireworks over the lake.  Beers were had, food was consumed, tales were told, small bonfires were lit as we all sat around swatting bugs and looking to the sky in anticipation of the display.  

Almost as if on cue, as the sky darkened, we all began to crowd closer to a section of the park away from the trees in order to get a good view of the sky.  Not being one to jump for joy at big bangs in the sky (call me cynical or jaded, but damn how many years can you crick your neck to watch pretty colors for 24 minutes and ooh and aww at the site??) I allowed anyone and everyone to jostle me out of position, leaving me on the outskirts of the group.  No sooner had I looked down to realize that it was dark enough to lose sight of my own feet then a beer-bottle-laden hand curved around my belly and the warmth of a small body began to press against my backside.

"Beer?" she asked.

"No, I...I can't, I'm sorry Carrie, you know I don't drink" I replied.

"Yeah, I know.  I figured I would give you something to say 'no' to before saying 'yes' to something else."

I saw that twinkle in her eyes, that upturned curl to her smile and a single raised eyebrow and thought 'is she asking me to do something with her, right here, right now, with all these people around, including officers of the law who are probably at this moment playing a game of spot-the-pervert with the crowd'????

But I didn't say that.  I couldn't say that.  Not to her.  I would do anything for her.  Anything to her.  Anything with her.

So instead I began to casually stroll, backwards, with her hand clasped in mine behind my back, her beer down by her side, back towards the edge of the wood that bordered the park, back towards the shadows and darkness.  I wasn't thinking of what we would do when we got there, I only knew that I wanted, needed to be there in those shadows with her now.  Slowly we inched to the wood, our eyes darting back and forth, taking in the crowd, looking for people we knew, people who would spot us, people who would suspect us of doing something so illicit.

And we realized, damn, people are pretty dumb.  There they all stood, gazing at the darkened sky, chin tilted, mouth open, catching bugs, eyes glazed over waiting for the "big bright shiny boom booms in the sky"....pretty sad how easily we are all amused and entertained.

So we quickened our pace and made it to the edge of the woods, and soon were enveloped by them, and closer to the pond where a smooth, giant stone sat as if it had been waiting an eternity for us to encounter  it.  She literally dragged me and pushed me onto the rock, leaning back so I was nearly horizontal, and pushed against me and into a most intimate, furious, aggressive lip-locked kiss that made the heavens spin.  I tasted the beer on her tongue, nearly making me forget she was not quite of age for that....or for THIS!  But I was not in a position to cast moral judgement on either act, as I felt my hands with a life of their own gliding up and under her shirt to peel it, and her small bra in one swift motion, over her head.  Freed from it, she arched her back and ran her hands along her chest, over her breasts and caught her dark, hard nipples between two fingers, pinching and rolling them as her hips urged more and more interaction with my body.  Just as she did this, the fireworks display had started, and through the gaps in the trees colorful lights splashed down and over her naked form, coloring her in rays of blue and green and red, sparkles lighting up her eyes and accentuating the goosebumps that ran along her ribcage.  

It was the first indicator that we were on a time limit.  22 minutes of fireworks to go....how far would we take this?

My answer came as Carrie inserted a nipple into my mouth.  While I obligingly chewed and suckled on her, she roughly pulled down my shorts and underwear and began to fumble and caress my rock hard, straight as an arrow, could hang a hat and two overcoats on it, cock.  I ran my hands up along her impossibly smooth back, holding her between my hands, feasting on her hard nipple, then gliding my hands down to her ass, still covered by her skirt.  By the third pass, she seemed to realize I needed a little coaxing, so she grabbed my hands and thrust them under the back of her skirt, pulling it up high along her belly as she did so.  At that moment, I realized the care and planning that had gone into this by her, as I felt not the material of underwear I had expected, but the hot, searing naked flesh of her body.  It was then I realized the moment of truth was upon us, the rubicon crossing from "fooling around" to engaging in real, intimate, intense sexual relations.

While that thought rolled around my head, the more goal-driven and productive Carrie siezed the opportunity to adjust her position and thrust downward, sealing the lips of her pussy around the head of my cock.  

My god, any description of nirvana falls woefully short of the experience I was now in.  My head swam as the blood rushed from one organ to another; my lungs collapsed under the strain of shallow breathing; my heart literally forgot how to beat.  Her eyes glimmered from the bursts in the sky as she looked down upon me and smiled a perfect smile...and then she pushed....and I froze.....and she arched like a cat, sucking in her belly, putting all her force into her hips....and her eyes fluttered and rolled into the back of her head as she held her breath, screwed up her face into a tight little ball....and her warmth spread over me, enveloped me, siezed me, squeezed me, shook me to the core as I felt the walls of her body expand ever so slowly to accomodate me, her body inching down over me, achingly slow, until at last she stopped, she exhaled and she shuddered with pleasure.  

I reached up to caress her neck, to pull her close to me and to kiss her, but with every movement made, her body spasmed in tiny orgasms, and she shreiked and smiled and laughed and moaned and, ocassionally, bit into my neck to stop from exploding with wild, gutteral noises that surely would have been heard in two counties over from us.

We stayed like that, making little motions together and gazing deeply into each others eyes as her's went wide and her mouth opened into an 'O' to indicate yet another orgasm pulsing through her.  I knew I could not last long, not with her vise-like grip and her dripping orgasms coating my cock and balls, soaking the stone behind us.  And I could hear the finale of the fireworks coming to bear.  I held her sides and made one-two-three quick strokes inside her, causing her to go catatonic as the massive booms shattered the sky and lit up the surrounding area, casting bizzare, moving shadows throughout our little piece of heaven.  I pulled her little body off of mine just in time to explode beneath her, showering her backside with a glaze of cum I thought impossible to create from within me.  I shuddered and laughed and exhaled and buried myself into her chest as she squirmed to pull herself down, her body aching to be filled again and crying at the sudden void of pleasure and pain.

Eventually we settled down and I held her close to me, my drooling cock gliding softly against the soft skin of her ass cheek, slipping and sliding my head around as the cum continued to leak out. We lay there, body to body, in pure ecstacy, feeling our body rythms, our breathing, our heart beats, our shudders, synchronize and become one.

And then we heard the cheering....I leaped to my feet, her body clinging to mine, and I turned her around, layed her as gently as I could against the cool stone, and I kissed her.  Deeply, passionately, sexually, my tongue exploring every inch of her mouth.  And just as quickly we broke our kiss and looked into each others eyes, wordlessly committing this to memory, wordlessly agreeing that this could never be the last time we find ourselves in this embrace.

