Taboo
2005-11-07
The next summer I "hooked up" with another boy. He was about 17 and much more experienced than Ryan, from the previous summer, was. Nevertheless, I remember vividly how his fingers trembled the first time he slipped his hand inside my bikini top to cup and squeezed by breasts. I was nestled in the crook of his arm and I could feel his breath warm on my cheek as his hand slipped beneath my top, cupping my lovely young breast. My breasts had grown a little bit from the previous summer, but they still weren't anything to write home about. But what was nice was how well my areolas had become larger, darker and more prominent than the small pink cones from the summer before. They had grown even more sensitive, and I could sometimes orgasm just by massaging them into my chest. I loved how the nipple poked out when I was cold. . , or aroused. I had to be careful around the house so that my parents or brother weren't alerted to my heightened state. His hand, damp and shaking slightly cupped, then gripped my right breast. I breathed deeply, driving my already hard nipple into the palm of his hand. He whispered, "Geesh you feel good. " I distinctly remember the fluttery feeling I had in my tummy and the little numbly, toe-curly things in my feet as he massaged my tits. I reached up with my right hand and gripped his hand through the material of my bikini top, and give his hand a welcoming squeeze.
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I then let my hand drop down and rest gently on the inside of his left thigh. I could just feel the tip of his rock hard penis through his shorts. I stroked his cock along his thigh as he rubbed my tits. I squirmed about some giving him access to both breasts. I wanted him to rub and squeeze me. His hand on me felt sooo wonderful. I remember feeling the squishy feeling between my legs as my cunt began to lubricate. I remember literally worshiping at his cock as he sat on a remote dimly lit staircase leading from the boardwalk to the sandy beach that breezy summer night. He tugged his bathing suit down to mid-thigh revealing a long and thickish penis. He was uncircumcised, and I loved the slick feeling his glands had when I pulled his foreskin back. The head was a purplish color and it smelled stronger than Ryan's had. This boy, his name was Mark, also had a really nice set of balls that generally hung pretty low in a large, fleshy sack. I began to stroke his hot, hard penis as he spread my legs with his hand, groping for my willing pussy. Without much preamble, Mark slipped his hand up along my thigh and under my bikini bottom and shoved a finger into my already wet cunt. He began to finger me as I stroked his cock up and down.
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Quickly, I began humping his finger and he began to move his hips up and down in a rough counterpoint to my stroking. Every now and then I would rub the head of his cock with my thumb, smearing the slick pre-cum over it. He would gasp when I did. Suddenly my hand was covered in his hot, slick sperm. His cum seemed to lurch from his cock, spraying his stomach and my hand and wrist. It felt sort of like hot wax from a candle. Mark grunted as I milked him. Then, he began to slide is finger in and out of my hot hole quickly. I could feel my pussy honey dribbling over my anus as he fingered me, his rough knuckles pounding my clit with each penetration. It felt sooo wonderful after not having had sex with anyone but me all winter! Suddenly, I came with a powerful flow of juices that must have covered his hand. My toes curled, my legs tensed so tight that I quickly got a cramp in my calves, and my stomach lurched in a rollercoaster-type of way. I clutched at Mark, my fingers digging into his upper arms as I gasped a sobbing breath when I was, at last, able. It felt as if the wind had been knocked out of me. Geesh! I buried my face against his chest, dropping one hand down to cover his where if pressed against my cunt. My heart raced a mile-a-minute, and I could hear his beating rapidly beneath his chest.
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Slowly, every so slowly, we came down from our orgasms. "Wow," Mark whispered. "Wow," I replied, smiling and looking up at him. I kissed him, my lips pressed against his. I pushed my tongue against his lips, and his mouth opened to me.
I probed between his moist lips into his hot, damp mouth. I loved his taste, all fresh and clean-like. I wrapped my arms around his neck and just loved him. After a bit, he pulled his finger from my sopping pussy, and neatly tucked my bikini bottom back into place. It was such a sweet thing to do. After we broke our kiss, I leaned down and licked the sperm from my hand and wrist, the head of his now flaccid penis and from his stomach. He rested his hand, the one with my cum on it, on my back as I sucked the slippery head between my lips. His hips bucked with the pain and pleasure that must have coursed through his cock from my suctioning. It didn't take him but a moment to become erect again. I hadn't had a hard cock in my mouth since the previous summer, and I loved how it felt, the spongy hardness, the slippery skin over the blood-engorged stalk, and the feel of a guy's balls as I cupped Mark in my hand.
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I took as much of him as I could down, down, down until my lips and nose were buried in his public hair. I held him in my mouth and throat for as long as I could hold my breath, swallowing; knowing how that would give him exquisite pleasure, and then quickly pulling my head back sucking all the way until his penis was free. I would then stroke him two or three times, smelling his wonderful cock. It seemed that he was hard again in an instant. I felt one of his hands on my small of my back and the other on the back of my neck, stroking me as I took the head of his cock back between my lips. He gently pushed down on my neck, driving my willing mouth down over his wonderfully hard cock. I could feel it spasming and flexing as I again took him deep into me. I loved the feel of his hairy ball sack, the ovals inside moving in my cupped palm as if they had a life of their own. Soon, I had a wonderful rhythm and he began to fuck my face. After only a few minutes he pulled me off his cock. "I want to fuck you," he said, "I want to be in your pussy. . . " "Do you have a condom?" I asked. "No," he said, "Do I have to?" "Yes," replied, stroking him to keep him hard.
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"I'll pull out," he said, urgently, "Please!" "As I said in an earlier story, being young is sort of an insane time, so I said, "Are you sure? Will you really pull out?" "Yes, yes" he said, beginning to turn me around. I put my hands on the step and he stood behind me, pulling my bikini bottom down. I could feel his damp cock pushing between my ass cheeks as it urgently sought entrance to my slippery tunnel. I spread my legs wider and adjusted my feet. Reaching between my legs with one hand, grasped his pulsing penis and, rubbing my thumb over the sponge-like head, guided him to my opening. One of his hands gripped me by my waist, and the other spread my ass as he pushed forward. After a bit of confused pushing and probing, he was, suddenly, in me! All the way! It f-e-l-t g-r-e-a-t! And then he began to slide his cock in and out. In and out, each time he pushed forward his balls slapped lightly against my soft cunt lips, and his stomach slapped against my ass. I could feel the flared head of his cock as he pulled it almost free, my inner pussy lips dragging on his veiny stalk. I felt the grit of the sand on the wooden steps on my palms as I leaned forward, tits hanging loosely in my bikini bra top, legs slightly parted and flexed as he rammed me. Again and again he shoved his slippery cock into me. I felt the glow begin to spread from my soft and wet insides, down my thighs and up my tummy until the heat warmed my chest, neck and face; and still he pushed in and out of me. I heard Mark grunt softly each time he shoved his long penis home in me, followed immediately by the slap of his body against mine. I felt Mark's fingers digging into me, holding my hips and pulling me into his hardness. I could feel the front of his thighs against the backs of mine as he bent his legs to fit me better.
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Suddenly, I could swear I felt his cock swell into a much wider, living sausage. "No, Mark," I whispered, "Don't cum in me!" "Please let me, please!!" he begged. I quickly leaned forward almost like I was falling, and I felt his penis slide free from my gaping cunt. The cool night air brushed my open pussy as I turned, sat on the sandy step, and grabbed his flailing cock and slipped the head, all wet with my dew, between my lips. I stroked him, keeping just the head in my mouth, my lips gripping him behind the swollen crown of his manhood. Making a ring between my index finger and thumb, I stroked him, his stalk all slippery with me. I sucked and sucked him until he grabbed my head and pushed his shaft down, down, down into my willing throat! My lips felt the hair around his throbbing shaft, and his balls rested on my chin as he flexed, flexed, flexed and then. . , blew a huge blast of sperm down my throat. I gagged and sort of sneezed and his cum spattered out of my nose and onto his groin and my fingers where then gripped his penis. But I kept the head in me and rubbed his dick up and down stimulating spurt and spurt into my mouth, across my tongue. I tugged forward on the loose skin of his penis until the foreskin covered his sensitive head. I then slipped the tip of my tongue under the skin and rolled it around the head. With that, I was rewarded with one last spurtlet across my tongue. "My gosh," Mark said, his legs giving way.
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I smiled up at him, and he looked down on me in wonder. "Where did you learn to do that?" he asked, as I slipped his softening organ from my wet mouth. Keeping my eyes on his, I licked his shaft, and holding it aside, I tongued his hairy balls. "I made it up. " I said, simply. I released his penis as he stepped back somewhat, and bending, he pulled his shorts up. I reached down and did the same with my bikini bottoms, brushing the sand from my butt cheeks as I stood slightly. Mark sat down next to me, and took my hand. I loved the gesture. It felt like we were nine years-old and shy, and not at all like we had just fucked each other. I could taste Mark's cum in my mouth. It was musky, salty and only a tiny bit bitterish. Yum. He looked at me in the dim light and said, smiling, "Your face is all wet. .
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. " He quickly stood, and tugged on my hand, and yelled, "Lets go swimming!" We raced across the sand and into the warm, summer surf along New Jersey's shore. The warm Atlantic waters reached our waists, then my breasts and his lower chest. We stopped and hugged.
"Elaine," Mark said, "That was the best sex I've ever had!" "Have you had a lot?" I teased, and he laughed. Suddenly, he grabbed my hand and we ran across the hard-packed sand and into the warm Atlantic Ocean. We stumbled through the low surf until we were up to my midriff, and his waist, in the sea. Mark began rubbing me as if he were soaping my body, cleaning the perspiration from my body. I did the same for him, including reaching into his shorts and washing his semi-erect penis. He rubbed my butt by slipping his hands into my bottoms. I snuggled up to him and kissed him wondering if he could tastes his sperm in my mouth. Laughing, we split apart. I lowered my suit bottom to about mid-thigh and, squatting, gave myself a sort of sea-water douche. It felt good and soothing to my freshly fucked pussy. I remember how sensitive my clit was to touch as I cleaned myself.
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After a bit of personal debate on continuing my cleaning/masturbating, I pulled up my bottoms and dunked my head under the water, clearing the residue of Mark's sperm and my pussy juice from around my mouth, cheeks and chin. When we finished our nocturnal ablutions, we ran back out of the surf, across the sand and dunes to the boardwalk where we rinsed ourselves in the cold fresh-water showers than were spaced every so often down the board walk. We grabbed our towels from the steps and set off down the boardwalk back toward the lighted arcades, shops and Pier to rejoin our friends for more "summer fun. " The next day I was walking by the staircase where Mark and I had had sex. I hadn’t seen Mark at the Pier that morning, so I was going over to where I though he might be staying. A man sitting on a bench nearby called out to me, “Miss? Miss? Can I speak with you a minute?” I glanced at the man out of the corner of my eye. He didn’t look like a maniac ax-murderer, so I stopped a few feet from him. He was a man in his mid-40s, I would guess, and very tan. He wore sunglasses, leather sandals, a Hawaiian style shirt and baggy khaki shorts. His light brown hair fluttered in the breeze off the Atlantic. “Sure,” I said as neutrally as I could. “You were here last night with a guy, right?” he asked, smiling broadly and gesturing toward the staircase to the beach. I didn’t say anything, but I had a sort of nervous tremble in my stomach. “Yes, it was you I saw,” he said. “Come’re and let me tell you what I saw.
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. ,” he continued patting the wooden bench next to him. “No,” I answered, “I can hear you fine from here. ” What did he think I was, a complete fool? “Yes, I saw you fucking that boy,” he said. I paused, waiting for I don’t know what. “Ahhhh,” was about all I could get out. “Yes, it was you,” the man said again. “You looked great with his cock in your cunt and when you blew him. ” He said. I couldn’t help it, but I began to feel sort of flushed. “How, err,” I asked sort of lamely waving a hand. “I live right across there; he said point to a small bungalow nestled behind some sea grass covered dunes, “In that house. I was talking a walk and I saw you bent over with him fucking you. ” “I, ah, err. .
. ” “You looked like you were having fun, but I think you deserve more,” he said. “What?” I managed to get out with a sort-of-outraged tone. But, somehow my feet were planted to the boardwalk. My towel was draped over one shoulder and my bikini, which was light blue with white piping, and hugged my hips, but was a tiny bit loose across my bust. “Yes, honey, something more,” he said. He spread his legs slightly and pulled his shorts away from his leg. He exposed to me his penis that was really, really large. It looked at least as long as Mark’s, but much, much thicker, and he wasn’t even hard. His balls looked really big, too. “Like it?” he asked, pulling the pant leg even further up his leg showing more of his cock. I could see the large, dark blue vein that wriggle along the top, and the really fat mushroom head lying alongside his thigh. It was nested in fine, curly light brown hair that shown with golden highlights in the sunlight of the summer New Jersey Shore sun. I couldn’t help myself, but I smiled. “Yes, I can see you like it,” the man said.
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“How would you like to feel this guy stretching your little girl cunt? Better yet,” he said, cupping the turgid shaft in one palm and jiggling it, “How about I eat that pussy of yours till you cum, then I fuck you?” I couldn’t believe what happened next. As I turned slightly away from him I heard myself say, “Yes. ” "Well, then," he began, "Let's go over to my house and see what fun we can have. . . " He pointed to his bungalow. ". . . But, I don't even know you. . . " I said, lamely. "Yeah, but you probably know my daughter, Holly. " he said, standing, his hands at his sides.
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"She's about your age," he said, just stating a fact. "Holly! You mean Holly Sheppard?" I said, surprised. Holly was about my age. We ran with pretty much the same beach crowd, although I didn't know her very well. She was better built than I was; but then most of the girls were. I was still plagued with coltish legs, slim hips, a nice but tiny butt, and a modest chest. "Yep, the same one, " he said, smiling. I liked his easy, warm smile. He had dimples on either side of his mouth, and his teeth were white and even. "So, what about it?" "What?" I answered stupidly. "How about I eat your pussy? You ever climax from oral sex? Most boys love to get head, but don't want to give it," he continued still smiling. "But I, I love it. " I paused as if thinking, but the truth was my mind wouldn't work at all. I was sort of just blanking. As I hovered in my daze, Holly's dad stood up and approached me.
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Taking my hand in his large, firm one, he gently led me across the boardwalk to the gate in the weathered picket fence that surrounded his small house. Just as we reached the front door, I stopped and tried to pull my hand from his. He held on tight while opening the door. As he gently, but firmly pulled me through the door, I couldn't help but glance aboutto see if anyone was watching. There wasn't a soul in sight. To be continued. Come back soon. You won't be disappointed. .
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