THE MEASURE OF MAN

An Epic by Gil Gamesh

Chapter Five

As for you, Gilgamesh, fill your belly with good things; day and night, night and day, dance and be merry, feast and rejoice. Let your clothes be fresh, bathe yourself in water, cherish the little child that holds your hand, and make your wife happy in your embrace; for this too is the measure of man.

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CAST OF CHARACTERS:
Kieran Stuart, 34 in story ; Siobhan Stuart, 33 in story, 13 in flashback; Kavan Stuart, 7 in story, 6 months in flashback; Arial Stuart, 5 in story, -9 months in flashback; Kerry Stuart, 9 months in story; Jason, 13 in flashback

TELLING THE STORY:
Siobhan Stuart

(SIOBHAN)

Kerry started walking early, at somewhere between eight and nine months old. At first he was like the other two – pulling upright on whatever was handy until he was standing, holding on, and then cautiously turning loose and staggering a few steps until he gave up and flopped down on his butt. But he mastered the next step quicker than the other two. Wherever he was, he’d first push himself up so he was on his hands and knees, then straighten his legs so it was hands and feet, and then very slowly straighten up without holding anything until he was standing upright. If he saw me watching him, he’d take a few tentative steps, give me a smile as though asking if he was doing it right, and then take a few more steps. In almost no time, he was walking instead of crawling.

Throughout the late spring, I tried to give the three of them a few minutes of naked sun time each afternoon. Kavan was finishing first grade and Arial kindergarten in a little over a week. I had to pick them up just before two in the afternoon. I usually managed to get Kerry to nap after his noon feeding so he wouldn’t be fussy in the car when I went to get the other two. After a quick snack, Kavan and Arial would throw their clothes off and I’d strip Kerry. At first, I kept his diaper on but, after Arial removed it outdoors once, I let him go naked too. He peed often enough on everything outdoors but never pooped.

Even though we had a privacy fence that probably kept any neighbors from seeing in our backyard, I usually put on a sundress or shorts and shirt when I was out with them. There was one spot, in a corner near the house where I was confident no one would see me, where I occasionally sunned naked in a chaise lounge.

That’s where we were when Kieran found us one Thursday afternoon. I had on sunglasses and nothing else and had my eyes closed. I could hear the kids playing in the sandbox nearby so I relaxed and enjoyed the feeling of the breeze and the sun on my naked skin. I almost screamed when he spoke.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Stuart.”

I looked around and, at first, couldn’t see him. Then he moved and I saw he was standing just inside the screen door to the kitchen. I’d left the kitchen door open so I could listen for the telephone and locked the front door as usual. I hadn’t heard him come home but that wasn’t unusual. The small house had a single-car garage next to the kitchen but he sometimes parked in the driveway. He always came in through the kitchen. 

“Kieran, you scared me,” I said. “What are you doing home so early?”

“I went to see a client whose office is nearby. Got through quicker than I expected.  I just thought I’d take off a little early. May I join you?”

“Sure, if you’ll bring me a cold glass of tea, lots of ice.”

He came out a few minutes later, tea for me and beer for him in his hands, sunglasses on, and nothing else. I wondered if Mrs. Johannsen ever tried to peek through the cracks in the fence close to where I was. If she did, I hoped she enjoyed looking at Kieran as much as I did. He gave new meaning to swinging like a pendulum. He handed me the beer and the tea and unf0lded a lawn chair for himself. We sat quietly for a while, drinking, watching the kids play. They still hadn’t seen that their Dad was home.  There were three little butts up in the air and their noses were down looking at something they’d found in the sand.

When Kavan looked up and saw Kieran, he touched Arial and pointed. They came running. Kerry looked, stood, tried to step out of the sandbox, fell flat on his stomach, and started howling. Kieran ran over, picked him up, sat down on the grass with him in his arms, and was immediately attacked by the other two. Kerry’s howls turned into what I suppose was the baby-talk equivalent of cussing.

After a while, I rinsed the sand off the four of them with cold water from the hose and we all went in the house, trailing water. Kieran helped me dry them and then I helped him dry himself. He scooped Kerry up, blew obscene noises on his fat little stomach, and then took him off toward the boys’ bedroom.

“You’d better put a diaper on him,” I yelled, over Kerry’s screams of delight.

“I will,” he yelled back. Kavan and Arial were giggling. I suspected they wanted their father to blow bubbles on their bellies too when he came back.

<><><>

When the kids were finally in bed for the night, Kieran grabbed my hand and pulled me into our bedroom. He didn’t really have to pull that hard. I think I wanted the same thing he wanted.

Afterwards, we lay side by side, my head on his shoulder. I had a towel between my legs and was playing with the few hairs on his chest. His dick was flopped over his thigh, still swollen and dangerous looking.

“You know, this is the way it should be,” he said.

I didn’t understand what he meant. “What?”

“Like us. Kids. Playing naked with them. Good sex with you. Not having to use those damn condoms anymore. Lying here naked not wanting anything but what I’ve got.”

“If anybody had seen you naked with them in the living room this afternoon, rolling on the floor, blowing bubbles on their stomachs and butts, I wonder what they’d have thought.”

“My Mom thinks it’s great, the naked part, I mean,” he said.

“How does she know?”

“Kavan told her the last time we went to see them.  She knows we go naked around the house and at the cabin.”

“What did she say?”

“Nothing. She already knew. I guess Alan or Kara told her about the cabin. I wish I could get her and Dad to come to the cabin with the rest of us.”

“And go skinny-dipping? Sit down to supper in the nude?”

“Sure. They’re not too old to enjoy it.”

“Kieran, it’s not that easy to do. I enjoy it now but it was uncomfortable for me at first.”

“Would you like to go to the cabin this weekend? I’ll check with Alan but I don’t think anybody’s reserved it.”

“Just us or do you want to invite your parents?”

“Just us. Dad and Mom will be at a conference for some engineering society he belongs to. Maybe we could invite them some other time.”

“Sure. I’ll go to the grocery story tomorrow. One day or two?”

“Two would be fine with me. We’ll come back by mid-afternoon on Sunday as usual.”

We were quiet for a while and I wondered what he was thinking. I was in a state where I was hardly thinking. I’d come twice, hard, once with his tongue and mouth teasing and sucking, and once with his dick fucking me into oblivion.

“Do you remember when Arial was conceived?” he asked.

“Probably not as well as you remembered when I got pregnant with Kavan,” I lied. I remembered every little detail of that day. I’d wanted our two kids to be close together and I’d been laying in wait for him for a week or so after I’d made up my mind.

“Would you tell me what you remember?” he asked.

<><><>

Kavan was about six months old when Kieran’s parents offered us an unusual present for our third wedding anniversary: they asked to keep the baby on Saturday night, to give us a night when we could be free of parenting cares. 

Kieran and I were invited to a dinner party on Saturday night with a group of friends. One couple provided the house and all the others prepared the meal. We had been asked to bring dessert.

I spent Saturday afternoon making apple pies and, at the same time, playing with Kavan. Late in the afternoon, I nursed him and put him down for a nap. I was reluctant to stop breast-feeding him; I wanted to continue that wonderful closeness. But I also looked forward to letting someone else care for him for one night. For the first time, I prepared for him to leave us, packing his food and bottles, diapers and pajamas. His grandparents were to pick him up at six o’clock.

The afternoon had been sunny and hot. Kieran had worked outdoors in the yard, in just shorts and sneakers, with a towel nearby to wipe away the sweat. I stood watching him more than once. Even dirty and sweaty, I still found him beautiful to look at. I admired the movement of the muscles in his back and arms as he moved the stones he was using to build a wall. I was more than mildly aroused looking at his rear, when he bent over to place the stones.

Just before five p. m., he stopped and came in the house. I heard first the shower running and then his humming as he shaved. After a few minutes passed and he didn’t come out of the bedroom, I wiped my hands and went looking for him.

He was lying on the bed, with the room darkened and the overhead fan blowing down on him. He was at the foot of the bed, his legs bent, his feet resting on the floor, with a pillow under his head and his eyes shut. As I walked in, he raised his head, opened his eyes briefly, and smiled at me.

“I’ve had a little too much sun and heat,” he said. “I just wanted to rest for a few minutes before I got dressed.”

I stood, looking down on him. He was naked except for a damp white towel spread across the middle of his body. His shoulders, chest, and legs were pink from exposure to the sun. His stomach was flat, almost concave, as he lay on his back. Under the towel, I could clearly see the outline of his cock, pointing downward.

I sat down on the bed beside him and we talked about the people who would be at the dinner. After a few minutes, I started to leave. “Don’t go,” he said. “Stay just a little longer.”

“I need to clean up the kitchen before I get my bath,” I answered

“It can wait until tomorrow. I can’t.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

“Touch me,” he whispered.

I cupped my hand over the mound in the towel, feeling his balls with my fingertips, his dick pressing against the palm of my hand. It was soft but, as I held it, I felt its first slow firming.

“You smell like apples and cinnamon and cloves and brown sugar,” he said, and with a grin. “I’d like to eat you.”

I slid my hand under the towel and rearranged his dick, pointing it upward toward his navel. When I put my hand, palm down, against it, I could feel it firming even more, in that stage just before it surged into full hardness. I looked at his face and his eyes were still closed. I turned around on the bed next to him, resting on my left side, my left arm beside his legs for support.

I pushed the towel upward on his body, exposing just his balls and, with one finger, I began to trace circles on his scrotum, feeling the firm egg-like glands under the softer skin. I always wondered what peculiar combination of genes had given him little body hair and almost no hair on his testicles and at the same time had caused him to have genitals which were larger than most men’s.

As I played with his balls, I could see the response in his cock, even covered with the towel. The towel slowly lifted, quivering, until it stood away from his stomach. I was amazed that something so soft only a few minutes ago could now lift the towel that covered it.

I pushed the towel further upward on his body, leaving it spread across his stomach, and uncovered his cock. It was erect now, lifted at an angle away from his body, reaching almost to his navel, the foreskin retracted, exposing the reddish-purple underside of the head. From my viewpoint, it seemed like an arrow; I knew how it could pierce to the heart of me.

As I looked at it, I felt that familiar hunger to feel it inside me, an emptiness wanting to be filled. Rationally, I knew we had no time for the leisurely lovemaking I preferred. Kavan’s grandparents would be coming in less than an hour. We needed to leave shortly after that for the dinner party and I hadn’t even showered yet.

“Please, don’t stop,” he whispered, again without opening his eyes, just those three words. I decided to give him what he wanted. I also determined to get what I wanted later, when we returned from dinner.

I left for just a moment to get a bottle of baby oil from the bathroom. When I came back I dripped a generous trail of baby oil from the head of his cock downward over his balls. I started again with his balls, gently coating them with the oil, lifting them, caressing them, watching the effect this had on his dick, as it changed its angle from his stomach.

When I put my hand on it, it felt hot to the touch, heavy in my hand, and too large for my fingers to reach around. I started to stroke it slowly, sliding my encircling hand from the head down to the base and then back up again. When he groaned softly, I began to increase the speed of the strokes. I changed my position so that I could hold his balls with one hand, pulling gently downward on them, while with the other I continued the same long strokes up and down on his cock. Within a minute or so, I felt a tension in the muscles of his legs and hips. I increased the speed of my strokes again, determined to make him come to orgasm this way, to save my own need for later tonight.

Even so, the suddenness of his ejaculation surprised me. The first spurt lifted out of the slit on the head of his cock, flying a foot or more into the air, in a continuous white stream, falling back on his stomach. A split second later another, even longer stream fell on my hand and on his stomach. I counted five separate, gradually-diminishing spurts, which flew into the air and back onto his stomach or my hand. As I continued to stroke his dick, I could feel his whole body responding, as though it were too much to bear. The semen continued to flow, oozing out in smaller amounts as I watched. Looking at the opalescent puddles on his stomach and on my hand, I was amazed at the volume of his ejaculation.  I understood why my cunt seemed to overflow constantly after we made love.

“You can stop now,” he whispered, eyes still closed, a smile on his face.

I used the damp towel to wipe him clean and then watched quietly as he lost his erection. Only then did I take his hand and lead him into the shower with me. We were both getting dressed when he brought up the subject of what had happened.

“I feel kind of silly after what I just got you to do,” he said. “I feel like a little boy caught doing something he shouldn’t.”

“You didn’t get me to do anything,” I answered. “I did something because I wanted to. You might’ve got the most fun out of it but I enjoyed it too.”

“I don’t know why I acted that way. When you sat down on the bed with me, it was if my dick took control of my brain. I don’t think I’d thought about sex all afternoon and, suddenly out of nowhere, my cock decided it wanted to be satisfied. It sort of told me to stay out of it, to just lay back and shut up.”

“I hope it enjoyed my services. Believe me, it put on quite a show. It erupted like Mount St. Helens.”

“When we come back from the party, what are you going to do? Will you be OK without nursing Kavan?”

“I’ll use the breast pump and save it for him for later. That’s what I did for the bottles I sent with him. I’ll probably be OK until your parents bring him back tomorrow morning. If not, I’ll use the pump again.”

“You could let me give you a little relief if you get too full,” he said.

“Kieran, don’t be silly. Why would you want to do that?”

“Because I’m a pervert and you love me and I love you.”

I smiled. He wasn’t a pervert; I did love him.  

“We’ll talk about that later. Your parents will be here in a few minutes for Kavan.”

<><><>

After the party, we were getting ready for bed when he brought up the subject again. He was stretched out on the bed, wearing a pair of silk paisley boxer shorts I had given him, watching me as I brushed my hair. I knew he’d put them on just so I could take them off.

I pulled out on one of my favorite nightgowns, an ivory-colored gown, trimmed with lace, and threw it on the bed. I knew how he usually reacted to seeing me in it. More than once, he had referred to me as his “strawberries and cream” woman. On one occasion, he’d compared, in poetry, the red hair on my head with that between my thighs and the color of my nipples with the inner lips of my cunt. I found out that night that laughter could be one more form of sexual arousal.

“Are you going to let me nurse instead of Kavan?”

“No, but you can go get me the breast pump and I’ll show you how to use it.”

“Damn, I never have any fun.” 

“I’m going to start weaning him next week. He’s doing fine with solid food. I think he’ll be OK with milk from bottles now.”

“How long will it take for your breasts to dry up?” I asked.

“Not long. My gynecologist said it’d be just a few weeks for the milk to stop flowing – if I can just get someone to stop nursing.”

“Hey, don’t look at me. I don’t suck on them now. You fuss at me every time I try.”

“Yes, but even licking my nipples can still make the milk flow. You’ve got to help me.”

“If I can’t get any milk, what’s in it for me?”

“When Kavan stops nursing, I can go back on birth control pills.”

“And I can stop using those damned condoms? Honey, I’ll be glad to leave your tits alone for a few weeks.”

“And I can stop giving you so many blow-jobs. Since you’ve had to use a rubber for regular sex, I think your frequency of blow-jobs has gone up.”

“Well, your doctor did say you could take the pill while you were nursing. She just said there was some research that advised against it.”

“I know. I just wanted to stay off them for a while longer.  So much else comes through in my breast milk to Kavan, I just worried about the hormones in the pills.”

“Have you really been happy with your decision to breast feed? It sure seems to cause you a lot of inconvenience. You’re always having to think about what might get through to Kavan.”

“I don’t regret it. I wish you could know that feeling of closeness I have with Kavan from breast feeding him.”

“Honey, I can understand what closeness feels like. I wish you could know how I feel about having my dick inside you. It’s sex but it’s more than that. When I’m inside you, I feel like I’m at home, I’m where I belong, my life is perfect. Even with a rubber on, it’s like that. But without a rubber, it’s so much better. When there’s nothing between us and it feels like we sort of melt together - I’m never happier than I am then.”

“Could we just forget the pills – and the condoms? We’ve agreed we’re going to have another baby pretty close to this one. Maybe we should just let it happen. I’d be happy if it did.”

“Huh? You’ve got your hands full with Kavan. You think you can handle another one this quick?”

“Kieran, I’ve been feeling you out about having another one for a month or so now. I know I’m ready. Kavan’s a good baby and doesn’t give us much trouble. I’d like our babies to be less than two years apart. If I said I was ready now, what would you do?”

“Well --- first I’d have my dick in you in about one minute flat. Second, I’d think about what a damn fool I am. You’ve got this all planned out, haven’t you?

“Yes, I have. Now would you like to make love with me, no rubber between us, nothing to keep me from getting pregnant, knowing I want another baby?”

“OK,” he said with a pretense at sulking, “if you won’t let me suck, I guess I’ll just have to fuck.”

He also had to wait for a while. I made him get me the breast pump and then rewarded him by letting him use it on me. When each breast was empty, I let him lick the last drop or two off my nipple and even let him suck a little to make sure they were empty. After he put the milk in the refrigerator, I let him do what I wanted.

And fuck was exactly what he did. He made love to me in all sorts of positions but always slowly and gently when he did it. He looked in my eyes and slid his dick in slowly, as though savoring what he was feeling. I let him move me around as he wished, even when toward the end he held my legs up and spread like a V. He’d look down at where his dick was sliding in and out of my cunt, then at my face, give me a smile, then look down again. Finally he’d had all he could take. He put a pillow under my hips and bent me almost in half. I locked my ankles behind his back and he started pounding into me. A minute or so later, he shoved it in to the depths and I felt his contractions as he came. I’d already had a few mini-orgasms but that triggered a final one that made me almost lose consciousness. I felt so wide open it was like my cervix had opened and sucked his semen directly into my womb.

He laid on top of me unmoving for a while with all 0f his weight on me. I could feel his cock slowly going soft inside me. Finally he pushed himself up with his arms straight and looked at me.

“How was that?”

“I’m think I’m about to be pregnant again, Kieran.”

“I hope so,” he said with a grin, “I’d hate to have to do that again.”

He moved over beside me, turned out the bedside light, and laid down on his back. We talked for a while in the dark about everything and nothing. Finally, I pulled the pillow out from under my hips and turned over on my side. Kieran spooned up against me from behind and held his hand against my breast while we went to sleep. I knew I probably should put my nursing bra back on but I couldn’t bring myself to move.

<><><>

At the cabin on Saturday, we took the kids for a walk in the woods just as soon as we’d unpacked the car. Kieran showed Kavan and Arial some of the interesting trees and bushes and told them about them. He even pulled up a couple of small sassafras plants so we could make tea for them to taste. He tried as usual to get them to spot poison ivy and they seemed better at avoiding it this time. With their fair skin, I knew they’d suffer with it as much as Kieran and I did and so I watched out for it for them. Kavan was always out of front exploring when we walked and he already knew to watch for it and only occasionally got into it.

After lunch, we all stripped and took blankets and pillows down to the cleared flat area near the creek. Kerry had pooped after lunch so I even let him go with a bare butt. Kieran and I tried to sprawl on a blanket but one or the other of us was constantly jumping up to keep the kids within our range of vision. Finally Kieran gave up and started wrestling in the grass with them. Kerry stood and watched at first and then even he piled on his Dad.

A few minutes later, Arial walked back to the blanket where I was and told me: “I’ve got to pee, Mom.”

I suppose she wanted me to take her up the hill and let her use the toilet in the cabin. She’d never been comfortable using the woods like Kavan was. Kieran heard her and walked up too, carrying Kerry on his arm.

“Let’s all go to the creek and do it together,” he suggested.

 I suppose I always envied guys that one thing – they could pee anywhere and under any circumstances. I got up and held out my hand to Arial.

“You guys go to the creek. I’ll take Arial up to the cabin,” I said.

Arial took my hand but she didn’t move when I started to leave.

“Come on, Mom. Let’s go to the creek. I’ll do it if you will,” she said.

Kieran stood there with a big jackass grin on his face. He didn’t say anything but I knew he was waiting so see what I’d do. I took Arial’s hand again and started down the hill. Kieran and Kerry and Kavan followed.

I walked out on the sandbar that always stayed just below the deep pool and into the creek where the water was only a few inches deep over the sand and gravel bottom. Kieran stood, holding Kerry on his arm, with Kavan holding his hand, and they watched us. When I squatted down, Arial did too. When I peed, she laughed and peed too. When I used my hand to dip up a little cold creek water and splash it between my legs, she did too.

Kavan waded out in the stream until the water was up almost to his knees and Kieran followed and stood beside him. Kieran made him turn so they were both pointed downstream. Kavan looked at me and smiled and then looked up at his Dad with another smile. He held his little dick with both hands, pulled the foreskin back so the little head was exposed, and arched a yellow stream over and down the creek. We all watched his performance. Kieran just shook his head and then tried to match it.  He couldn’t but he was still holding Kerry on his arm so he only had one hand free anyway.

<><><>

When the evening light began to fade, we pulled sleeping mats out in the middle of the cabin and put sheets and blankets and pillows on them. Kerry was so tired he was groggy and was asleep in minutes. Kavan and Arial hardly moved while Kieran read them a story and then they were asleep. We’d put their mats in a row and it was a joy to see them – Kerry, Arial, and Kavan, our children.

Kieran had put our two mats a few yards away. I suppose he thought we wouldn’t disturb them if we didn’t get too loud. He stretched out beside me, took my hand, and put it on his dick. There was no doubt what he wanted.

“Kieran, let’s wait a little bit,” I said. “Let’s make sure they’re really asleep.” 

He faked a really big sigh. “OK, if you’ll tell me a bed-time story?” he asked as he rubbed my hand up and down on his dick.
 
“What kind of story? A nursery rhyme about little Jack Horny?”

“Shit no, I’m not jacking off. Don’t ask me.”

“That wasn’t what I said.”

“Sorry, I misunderstood,” he said and squeezed my hand which was still wrapped around his dick. “Tell me about the first hard dick you ever saw or felt.”

“OK then. I was thirteen the first time I saw an erect dick. I felt it too. It was really hard, harder than yours.”

After a minute he encouraged me, “Go on.”

“I was baby-sitting with a neighbor’s little boy. When I changed his wet diaper, I discovered he had a little hard-on.”

He laughed and rolled over half on top of me.

“Before the night is over you’re going to feel a big hard-on,” he threatened, smiling. “But not until after you’ve told me a bed-time story.”

He rolled back down beside me and put his hand on my stomach. I made a silent bet on down this time and won. His hand started moving downward. When he started playing with the curls just short of his goal, I thought of a bedtime story for him. 

“Well, my first real sexual experience with a man did happen when I was thirteen, almost fourteen. He wasn’t really a man since we were the same age. I’d started developing about a year earlier. My breasts were about half developed and I’d been having periods for over a year. Jason and I were in the same grade at school and lived only a few houses from each other. We’d been friends, good friends, for years. He’d been trying to teach me to shoot a basketball. He’d invited me to his house one afternoon in June to practice...

<><><>

His father was sitting behind the wheel of their car in the driveway beside the house, as I came into their yard. As I walked up to the front door, his mother opened it and came out.

“We’re going to the grocery store,” she said. “Jason’s upstairs. He’s lost his basketball. You know how he is about losing everything. Stick your head in and yell for him.”

She left the front door open for me, and then went to the car. I went into the house and called for Jason. I waited for a moment with no response. I called again, louder, and still received no response.

I knew where Jason’s room was so I climbed the stairs. The door to his room was almost closed, standing open an inch or so. I pushed it open.

He was on his hands and knees, reaching under his bed, trying to pull something out.

He looked up just as I opened the door.

“My basketball is stuck under the bed,” he said, standing up.

We both realized at the same moment that he was wearing only three things, white cotton briefs and a pair of white athletic socks.

“I was about to get dressed,” he said, lamely.

I suppose we were both embarrassed and unsure of what to do. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. The last time I had seen him without a shirt, the previous summer, he had still been soft with baby fat. Now he was harder and leaner, the muscles showing through. The skin on his chest and stomach and arms and legs was clear and flawless, already tanned from the summer sun. The contrast of the white briefs with the tanned skin evoked a response in me that was totally new: I wanted to touch him, to feel his skin under my palm. I looked at the bulge in the center of his briefs, so different from the flatness I always saw when I looked down at my stomach. I tried to say something but couldn’t make the words come out.

As I turned to leave, he whispered, “Don’t go.”

I looked back at him, one hand on the doorknob.

“Don’t go,” he said again. “Shut the door. There’s no one else home.”

I looked at his face, directly into his eyes, trying to understand what he was suggesting. Again, I stood for a moment, looking at him. Finally, I closed the door and stood still, waiting.

He walked over closer to me, until he was only a foot or so away. As I put up my hand to stop him, he caught it, pulling it against his chest. When he released me, my hand stayed on his chest. I could feel the heat of his body, the small hard bump of his nipple.

“I want to see what you’re like, too,” he whispered. “Will you let me?”

My heart was almost pounding out of my chest and my mouth felt dry. I nodded my assent and he reached up and began to unbutton my shirt. His fingers were clumsy and he struggled with the top button. I pushed his hands away and quickly undid all of the buttons.

He pushed the shirt off my shoulders and I let it fall on the floor. Now he was confronted with my brassiere. He stood still for a moment, looking down at my breasts.

“How do you take that thing off?” he asked, his voice breaking. 

I reached behind and undid the clasp, leaving the bra still covering me, waiting for him to remove it. I watched his face as he slowly pulled first one strap and then the other off my shoulders and the bra joined my shirt on the floor.

I held my breath when he placed his hand on my breast. I felt my nipple become erect under his palm. I put my hand back on his chest and we both stood quietly, our hands moving softly on each other.

“Your breasts are so beautiful,” he whispered. “Why are the nipples so hard when the rest is so soft?”

When he moved closer to me, I stepped back, against the door. He pressed against me, his chest against mine, the softness of my breasts pressed down by the hardness of his muscles.

“We can’t do anything, you know,” I managed to say. “I’ve never done it before.”

“Neither have I,” he said.

“We’ve got to stop,” I said, without any conviction at all.

“I know.”

“Then stop.”

“Not yet,” he pleaded. “I won’t try to do it all the way, I promise. But don’t make me stop yet. I’ve never seen a girl, never really touched one before now. Don’t make me stop.”

I knew I wanted it as much as he did. “You promise you won’t try to go all the way?” I asked.

“I won’t. But let’s not stop now.”

He took my silence for acquiescence. He reached behind me and pulled me against him and I could feel something firm and rounded pressing against my stomach. He tried to tug my shorts down and again I had to help him, releasing the zipper on the side. In seconds, my shorts joined my other clothes on the floor. I kicked my sneakers off and then I had on no more than he did.

He pressed me back against the door again, his stomach and chest against me, holding me gently by the arms. He began to rub against me and I could feel the hardness in his briefs grow even larger and firmer. He curved his hands around behind me, holding my buttocks, and I followed his example. We were both gasping for breath now, pressing against each other.

“I’m going to take your panties off,” he whispered in my ear. “Will you let me?”

“Yes,” I answered.

He caught the elastic at the waist and pulled down, peeling my panties down my legs, stooping down as he did, until I was able to step out of them.

Then, without asking, he did the same with his briefs, peeling them down quickly, and kicking them to one side.

For the first time, I saw how a man, or a boy, was made. Almost instantaneously, his penis came to full erection. He was circumcised and so the head was exposed, reddish-purple at the end of the white shaft. He was already developed enough to have a slight covering of pubic hair, matted down above and to the sides of his penis. His testicles were drawn up snug against the base, one lower than the other. I thought to myself how different this was from my own hidden mysterious organs, how beautiful and fascinating to see, so out front and exposed.

He caught both my hands and pulled me quickly backwards to his bed.

“I promised,” he said, “and I mean it.”

I offered little resistance when he pulled me onto the bed with him.

He pulled me against him and we awkwardly tried to figure out the proper placement of our arms. As I felt the whole of his body against mine, the hard protrusion of his dick against my belly, my heart began to pound even faster. When he brought his face against mine, searching for my lips with his, I was afraid for him to kiss me. I had never been kissed like this and, even though I had talked with other girls about it, I didn’t really know what to do. We began with our lips pressed together, our mouths closed. Within a minute or so, our lips were open and his tongue was either in my mouth or mine was in his.

Finally I pulled away.

“I’m scared,” I whispered. “We’ve got to stop.”

In response, he caught my hand, pulled it down between our bodies and placed it on his penis. In my inexperience, it seemed enormous, even though I know now it was only typical for a young boy starting into puberty. I pushed him back so I could look at it as I held it. I was fascinated by its hardness and the steel-spring elasticity that brought it back to the same angle over his stomach no matter which way I bent it. I reached lower and felt his balls, feeling through the soft skin the rounded masses that moved so freely. He lay back for a few minutes, eyes closed, letting me satisfy my curiosity about his dick and balls.

“Now it’s my turn,” he said.

“No, Jason, you can’t,” I answered.

“Yes, I can. You wanted to see what I was like. I want to see you too. I want to touch you too. You’ve been looking at me and touching me. I didn’t stop you. It’s only fair that I get my turn.”

He pushed me gently back against the pillow and raised himself above me. When he pulled my legs apart, I yielded, wanting to feel his hands touching me down there.

“You’re hair is as red down here as it is on your head,” he said. “It’s beautiful.”

He curved one hand down between my legs, over my vulva, and held it there. I could feel a warm moistness inside me at his touch. He rose up until he was sitting beside me and, with one finger, began to explore. His touch made me burn inside. He looked intently, trying to find the opening into me, finally parting the inner lips, and discovering the moist opening into my vagina. Even though I was a virgin, I knew from my own explorations that the passageway would easily open to his finger. Quickly he found the way, sliding one finger into me, moving it around, exploring.

“Does it hurt you?” he asked. “Can I put it in deeper?”

“Just don’t hurt me,” I said.

“I won’t, Siobhan. I promise,” he answered.

He slowly pushed his finger into me, perhaps up to the second knuckle, and then stopped, looking at me.

“It’s so hot. Does it feel good?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

He moved upward on the bed a little so we were laying side by side, me flat on my back, him on his side facing me. When he took his finger out of me, I guess he saw from the expression on my face that I wanted it back.

He reached down quickly, caught my hand, placed it on his dick, and then returned his finger to my pussy. I wanted him to touch me, to put his finger or something else inside me. I don’t know whether he even knew what a clitoris was or what it would do it if he touched it. He never tried, just kept that one middle finger in my pussy, moving in and out, around and around. It didn’t hurt. It felt wonderful.

Without even thinking, I started pulling on his cock. I don’t suppose I was jacking him off like I’d heard boys did it. I was pulling on it, my fingers sliding down the shaft from where it emerged from his soft tangle of pubic hair, down toward the smooth head. I really had no idea how to jack him off, just that it was something that girls could do to boys if they got too insistent about putting their dick in a girl’s pussy. I suppose I’d have used the same motions if I’d been milking a cow.

Anyway, it worked. Jason started going “Uhhhh, uhhhh, uhhhh,” and I felt something hot in the palm of my hand. I brought my hand up in front of my face and saw something that looked like somebody had spit in my hand, messy, sticky, some clear, some white. It was yucky. I wiped it off on the bedspread and sat up.

Jason fell over on his back and put one forearm over his eyes. He was breathing through his mouth, almost as though he had been running or something. I didn’t know what to think about it all.

At just that moment, a car horn sounded loudly in the street outside. Jason jumped up and ran to the window, trying to see who it was. In my fear of being caught, I ran for my clothes. 

“It was just a passing car,” he said. “But my parents could be back anytime now.”

We watched each other as we dressed. I almost wanted to protest when he pulled on his briefs, positioning his still-erect dick against his stomach.

As we started to open the door, he caught me and pulled me against him. I started to resist but he kissed me quickly, an open-mouthed hungry kiss, and then pushed me away.

“I promised. And I kept my promise,” he said. 

<><><>

“How do I know when to stop with this story?”  I asked Kieran. The cabin was almost totally dark now, with only one small light near the bathrooms so we could see to go to them.

“You don’t just stop,” he responded. “Every story has a beginning and an end. You know when you’ve reached the end,” he answered.

“Then I suppose I’ve reached the end. As far as the first boy I ever did anything with, that’s all that happened. I think we were both scared to death about it. Anyway, we didn’t do anything else after that. They moved away some time later. I’ve wondered for years what would’ve happened if we’d had another occasion or two to be alone.”

“Didn’t he try to get you to do anything else after that?”

“He tried a couple of times but we just didn’t have another good opportunity. But he certainly had a lot of success in the fantasies and dreams I had over the next few months.”

“Tell me about them?” he asked.

“I dreamed about him frequently for months after that. Even awake, I had fantasies about what it would have been like if he had put his dick in me instead of just his finger.”

“So he really got you hot and aroused, didn’t he?”

“A few nights after it happened, I couldn’t go to sleep, thinking about it. I pulled my nightgown up and used my own fingers to find out what felt good. You might say he gave me my first orgasms.”

Kieran pulled away from me suddenly and stood up.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“Shut your eyes. I’ve got a surprise for you,” he answered.

I did as he asked and I heard him opening something and then the soft sound of fabric on skin.

“You can open your eyes now,” he said.

He was standing at the foot of our sleeping mats. He was no longer naked. Now he had on fresh white briefs and white athletic socks.

“I’m not your husband,” he said. “I’m a thirteen-year old boy and I’m scared to death. I don’t know what to do or how to do it either but I know I can’t stop until I go all the way this time.”

I looked at the bulge in the front of his briefs and then up at his face.

“I’m scared too,” I whispered. “I’ve never done it before either. But I want to.”


TO BE CONTINUED:
