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You are here: Home / Adult sex stories / Birthday Girl Ch. 1

Birthday Girl Ch. 1

Frederick CarolFrederick Carol August 21, 2016 Leave a Comment

“Mike, a woman has needs, too, you know.” She took him by surprise again. “Did you like what you saw at the pool today?”

“What do you mean?” he stammered, confused. Ohmigod, she saw me!

“Mike! Please.” She shook her head. “You peeked, I saw you.”

Mike looked down at his feet. “Only the once,” he muttered.

“Was it enough?”

“No. I only saw your back and a glimpse of your bosom.” He looked up defiantly, surprised to see only compassion in her eyes and a gentle smile on her face. He was still standing and she stood up and came over to him. There was a fragrance about her. She reached out her hand and raised his chin so that he was looking into her eyes.

“Would you like to see the rest of me?” she asked gently.

He groaned. “Don’t torture me, Louise.”

“I never offer anything I’m not prepared to follow through on, Mike. When you were reading the book? Who did you imagine doing those things with?”

“You.” He could hardly get the word out past clenched teeth.

She nodded. “Was it a good thought, Mike. You and me? Or did it disgust you? A woman ten years older than you.”

“No!” he cried. “You’re beautiful! It was a dream, to think of you and me together.”

“Doing what, Mike?”

“Making love!”

She surprised him again. “You mean you want to put your prick in my cunt?” She put her hand over his mouth before he could speak. “Don’t say a lady shouldn’t talk like this. Bedroom talk is private, between a man and his woman. No one else has the right to judge.”

He shook his head. “Yes, I do.” He took a deep breath and continued. “I do want to put my prick in your cunt. Of course I do, but I wouldn’t want to do it if you didn’t, too! I want to put my prick in your cunt, not someone else’s. But it’s no good, you’d never want me.”

“But Mike, I do! I’m wet between my legs just thinking about it!” She glanced down and smiled. “It looks as if you have a present for me.” She took his hand. “Come into the bedroom.”

The bedroom was dim, lit only by a shielded candle. Louise McLean stopped beside the bed and released his hand. She smiled and raised her hands to the buttons which ran all down the front of her dress. She began slowly to unfasten the buttons. Mike stood, hardly daring to breathe, watching her fingers move steadily downward, until she stopped at the buttons just above her knees. She unfastened the buttons at her wrists and opened the front of the dress, shrugging it off, letting it crash soundlessly about her feet. Beneath it she wore only stockings, held above the knee by garters. She bent and untied the garters, then sat on the edge of the bed and removed the stockings, rolling them carefully and putting them on the bedside dresser. She stood, naked, weight on her left foot, right leg slightly bent. She gazed solemnly at him.

“Do you like me, Mike?”

“Oh, Louise, you are so beautiful, so very, very beautiful.” Her body was glorious. She was about four inches shorter than his own even six feet, with long legs, slim but unmistakably female hips, narrowing to a slim waist above which jutted a beautiful pair of breasts, firm, full, glorious; deep pink nipples erect in large areolas. She reached up and loosened her hair, letting it flow around her shoulders, its sun-bleached colour a shade lighter than the curly mat at her groin.

“Take your clothes off, Mike. This needs both of us.” Her voice was gently mocking, affectionate. He trembled and began to unfasten his jeans, pausing as he remembered to pull off his boots, pushing his jeans off and tearing a button on his shirt in his eagerness. When he was naked he stopped, embarrassed, his prick rigid.

Louise McLean reached out gently and touched him, her fingers cool on his heat.

“It’s beautiful, Mike. I want it, here.” She touched her groin, then released him and lay back on the bed, her legs spread. “Now, please, Mike.”

Mike knelt gingerly between her legs, angling himself so that his prick pointed to where he thought her cunt was. He paused, uncertain. Louise reached out and took him, guiding his rigidity into herself. It was a warm, wet velvet pit and he felt as if he was drowning.

“There, Mike, it’s in. Now fuck me, lover, fuck me!”

He began to move, awkward in his inexperience then stopped, appalled, as his body betrayed him and his prick spurted his seed into Louise McLean’s cunt. She hugged him close as soon as she realised, soothing, crooning to him.

“Don’t worry, lover, don’t fret, my baby. It’s all right, you’ll soon be hard again. It’s better this way, really it is. Next time you’ll be able to keep going. Oh, lover, you’ll enjoy it so much more.”

Mike eased himself out of her and lay on his back, his prick still half hard, semen glistening at its tip. Louise sat up and bent across him, startling him as she licked quickly at his prick.

“What did you do that for?” he asked, bewildered. There had been nothing like that in the book; at least not the bits he had read so far.

Louise smiled at him. “I like the taste,” she said, then lay back beside him, his hand in hers. “I used to suck Tom’s prick sometimes, and he used to suck my quim.”

Mike was startled. “I didn’t realise you could do anything like that.”

Louise laughed. “You picked the wrong book, Mike. The other one in the plain wrapper would have given you the necessary hint.” She rolled over towards him and propped herself up on her elbow, studying him. He was still nervous, she thought. Not surprising, he was only nineteen and she had damn’ near kidnapped him into her bedroom. Poor baby, he’d shot his load before he had a chance to enjoy the fucking. She reached out gently and stroked his prick. It was a magnificent sight when it was hard, she thought, it must be over eight inches long and nearly as thick as her wrist. She’d damn’ near come herself when he came into her, it had been so long since she’d had a prick inside her. She stroked him gently, crooning as his lovely weapon stiffened into a pulsing rigidity.

“Louise?” Mike’s voice was a croak.

“Yes, honey?”

“Can I, I mean, can we .. Er..”

“Fuck?” said Louise succinctly, smiling. Mike nodded, flushing. “We certainly can, Michael Delaney, just as soon as you get that lovely prick of yours back inside me!” She lay back, spreading her legs as Mike positioned himself to enter her, groaning as she felt the full length of him moving into her.

Mike began to move gingerly backwards and forwards, the novel sensations assaulting his senses so that his head swam. Louise gently began to move, accommodating herself to his rhythm, leading him, imposing her own timing on their union. Mike sank deeply into her on his forward stroke, pleased and proud that Louise McLean found him desirable, eager to please her.

“Am I doing this right, Louise?” he asked anxiously.

“God, yes!” she moaned, “and keep on doing it!”

Louise began to tremble slightly, raising her legs and hooking her heels behind his back, urging him into her with little cries and moans. His prick felt good inside her, hard but yielding, and she could hear him squishing in her juices as he moved. She giggled suddenly.

“What is it?” asked Mike, surprised, pausing in his thrusts.

“Don’t stop!” she cried urgently, relaxing as he began to move again. “I was just thinking, I haven’t been this wet since Tom died.” She moaned as a tremor went through her. “Oh, Mike! Fuck me, baby, fuck me! Oh, God, I’m going to come!”

She clenched him to her, her heels tight in his back, feeling him still moving in her quim, then abandoned herself to the incredible sensations of her first shared orgasm for over two years, shaking in her release. Mike, excited at the effect he was having on her, felt a deep stirring within himself, a string being drawn from deep within, an explosion of feeling, shaking as he felt his own climax build, exploding suddenly into her, so that he stiffened and shuddered, burying his prick as deep within her as it would go, his seed pulsing into her depths as she trembled slowly into stillness, breathing heavily, feeling her gasping for air beneath him as she came down from her own plateau of sensation.

They lay motionless for some time, breathing heavily, then Louise stirred.

“Let me up a little, I can’t breathe.”

Mike was instantly contrite, moving as if to leave her.

“Don’t pull him out!” she exclaimed, then kissed Mike’s nose. “Just take your weight on your elbows for a while, dear. I like to feel you inside me.” She lay back, still breathing heavily, then unhooked her heels from his back. She hugged him hard, suddenly. “Thank you, Michael Delaney, I needed that.”

“Thank you, Louise McLean, for letting me serve you.”

She chuckled. “I don’t know about serve, Mike, but you certainly gave me a good servicing. I think you’re about to fall out, Mike, so pull back and roll over. Onto your back, that’s it.” She got to her feet and reached across to the dresser for a cloth, dipping it in a bowl of water and gently wiping his limp prick clean. She was about to wipe herself when he stopped her, reaching for the cloth. She smiled and passed it to him, lying back and spreading her legs so that he could wipe her. She stifled a laugh as she realised he was studying her cunt carefully. He glanced up at her, smiling.

“It’s beautiful,” he said, simply. He stood up and reached for his clothes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, sitting up, careless in her nakedness.

“Going to the barn, to sleep,” he said.

“Sleep with me, Mike, ” she said quietly, holding out her hand to him. “We can make love again, as often as you like, and again tomorrow night. If you want to, that is,” she finished, ashamed of the need in her voice.

“I want to, Louise,” he said. “I just didn’t dare hope that you might want to do it again.”

“Oh, I want to, Mike, believe me. I’m ashamed of just how much I want to. Mike?” she began.

“Yes, Louise,” he said as he sat back on the bed.

“Was that your first time?” she asked, taking his hand.

Mike nodded. “It was, Louise, my very first. Thank you.” He grinned at her. “It was wonderful, much better than my hand.”

She laughed, then stood up, signalling him to do the same, turning back the sheets.

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