Getting it Straight

Literotic asexstories – Getting it Straight by mrJohnJones,mrJohnJones
Author’s note: This is a true story, which could account for it’s popularity (I get more feedback from this than others). I won’t go into how close any others are to reality, in order to keep the mystery. 😉 Enjoy!

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Well, I suppose I should introduce myself here. My name is John, I grew up in the southwestern suburbs of Chicago and I think I have the best older brother in the world. His name is Carl and he’s four years older than I am. I wouldn’t let my friends know it, but I’d always been a shy kid. All this happened when I was 18 and in high school. I had never been with a girl before. I mean “with” a girl. Girls liked me in high school because I was a “sweet guy”. I was a poet, I had a good singing voice (I performed in school musicals and choir) and I was “sensitive”. I didn’t really mind this attention. As a matter of fact, I enjoyed it, all the way through my sophomore year.

My brother was always curious why I hadn’t had a girlfriend come over. I said I had girl-friends, but not really any girlfriends. Toward the end of my sophomore year, I got a part time job, changed my hairstyle and started buying in-style clothes. Then I started getting noticed. Well anyway, let me explain the two incidents that got me confused about girls.

First, the summer of my sophomore to junior year a friend down the block invited me to a party. I invited a girl named Jean that had been exceptionally friendly to me before school had let out.

This party started out as most, in the den, with the flashing lights and crazy music. The guys’ parents were gone for the weekend, and his older sister didn’t care what he did as long as he kept it down some and the place didn’t get wrecked. She didn’t know some of the kids were sneaking booze in, but it never got noticed or out of hand.

Jean and I were slow dancing. It was about 10:00, the lights went down, and I noticed that there were just couples around. They were on the couch, chairs, carpet and you name it. I started getting uncomfortable quickly. I really didn’t know what to do. About the time I became conscious of this, I pulled my head back and looked at her. She looked at me, smiled and then looked away. Since we were obviously the only ones dancing, I asked her if she wanted to sit down. She said “sure”. We found a couple of chairs at a small card table in the corner of the den. We sat down, listened to the music and looked around for a while.

Yes. It was as awkward as it sounds. We were sitting right next to each other, and I had my arm around her on the chair. I really don’t want to get into the long idle conversation we were trying to have, because it was embarrassing enough. At one point, she said she liked the song that was playing and rested her head on my shoulder. I was nervous. Of course I liked it, too. A moment later, she looked up. Our faces were close together. I knew if there was to be a cue in here somewhere, I just got it.

I turned my head and kissed her. Her lips were soft and her kiss was kind. She reached up and put her hand on my face gently as we kissed. I felt like the bottom dropped out of everything. The music was a thousand miles away, and it was as if no one else was in the room. Her hand slid down around my waist and rested against my side as we continued kissing. Then I blew it.

I swear I had no “evil” intentions as I put my hand on her leg. It was a place to put my hand; that was it. She had a skirt on that was only about an inch above her knee, so I didn’t even touch skin. I just put my hand down. She jumped like I had touched everything personal she had.

“No! I don’t want to….”

And that was the end of the night. I’ll be honest. I felt like a stupid idiot… and I hadn’t even had any intention of starting anything! I apologized over and over. As she kept her distance, I realized I should offer to walk her home.

Even today, I don’t blame Jean for what happened next. I got depressed during the summer. When school started again, my wardrobe and appearance had gotten better. My “talents” for music and poetry had also improved because of my depression. I was getting more attention. Some of the more attractive girls were coming to me now. I was becoming “popular”. But now there was a big problem.

Then came the second incident. I had girls coming to me that guys were drooling over. Some I went out with. I had a job, money and my older brother sometimes let me use his car. My relationships were usually short. One day in school, I found out why. I was walking down the crowded hall between classes with my current girlfriend, an attractive strawberry blonde. We had been seeing each other for a couple of months. Because of my “clumsy” mistake with Jean, I had never even tried to kiss her. We stopped at her locker so she could get something out. I backed up as she turned around to close the locker door. She got a big frown on her face and practically yelled out in the hall…

“What? Are you afraid to touch me?”

That really did it. Kids in the hall were looking at me. Some in sympathy, others snickering. I walked away from her and avoided girls altogether for the first half of my junior year, even though some hinted that I should see someone (some obviously hinting it should be them). I was just afraid I would do something stupid again.

Friends were trying to cheer me up. Academically, I was actually doing ok. My talent for singing, poetry and story writing improved with my depression (although the subjects of my writings were either about lost love or horror stories).

I don’t know if someone told my brother, or if he noticed it himself, but he started asking questions. He finally got around to asking the right (or “wrong”) questions and got it out of me. I think he could see that I was trying to hold the tears back as I started explaining everything that had happened. He could probably hear it in my voice, if nothing else. We had our “brotherly” fights and tiffs, but he was really concerned about what I was going through. He asked me if I’d talked to Mom or Dad about it. I asked him if he was joking. He tried to help, explain things, but my depression had been going on so long that I wasn’t listening any more.

Summer came again and junior year let out. I wasn’t going to parties. I went to work at the drugstore, bought junk food, watched TV, worked out and took long bicycle rides alone. My brother, who was now a sophomore at a local community college, was getting worried about me. He had moved to an apartment by the college, but came by the house often. I wasn’t up to roughhousing around with him much anymore. Inside, I think I was even jealous of his way with the girls. He would sometimes stop by before going out and often had a very attractive college girl with him. In another way, I suppose I felt happy for him.

Then came the night I’ll never forget. My brother came by the house one Tuesday night and said he had a problem; he wanted to know if I could help. He had done more than enough for me, including keeping me out of trouble with Mom and Dad when I screwed up a couple of times. I told him as long as it wasn’t some kind of trick, sure! Carl said his whole evening was getting screwed up in one morning. He and his girlfriend Cynthia were supposed to go to a play at a local candlelight theater with her parents. Her parents couldn’t make it due to the fact that her aunt had gone to the hospital. At the same time, one of his girlfriends’ best friends came into town and his girlfriend didn’t feel right going without her. He wanted to know if I would go to the play with her girlfriend.

At first I laughed.

“You have to be kidding,” I said. “How old is she?”

My brother grinned.

“She’s almost 19, but don’t worry about it. She won’t mind, she wants to see the play and Cynthia. And I just don’t want to waste the money on the ticket.”

I’d always been a pretty logical kid so it only took a few seconds to give the ok. First, it was a favor for my brother. Second, I’d never seen a play in a theater. Third, the girl (well, woman) was only one year older than I was and fourth, it was a favor for my brothers girlfriend. What the hell.

My brother came by the house again about 6:30 that evening. I had taken a shower and thought I was ready to go. Carl thought otherwise. He helped me pick out some clothes that would go well with the outing. I never even got that dressed up to go to church.

We walked out to the car and I hopped in the back. Carl said he had to pick up Cynthia’s girlfriend at a hotel in the loop, because it was where she was staying while she was in town. At the time, I thought it was a little strange to have to go all the way downtown Chicago and come back for a play, but hey, she was from out of town.

When we pulled up in front of the Hyatt, Carl opened the door and stood up outside. The doorman came from the door and asked my brother if he needed help. “Just a minute” he said and walked into the hotel. The doorman grumbled something about the fact that he couldn’t park there. It was only a few seconds before he came back out. He was walking out with a fabulously attractive girl with long, wavy black hair. She was wearing a sparkling blue ruffled dress that came down to about three inches above her knees. She was tall and had beautiful long legs. Her face was so gorgeous that I swore I’d never seen anyone like her.

She walked around the car and got in the seat behind Cynthia. She sat up, kissed Cynthia on the cheek and asked her how she was doing. Cynthia smiled, said she was fine and asked her how she was. Cynthia raised an eyebrow and looked at Carl. I guess I should have known something was up then, but at the time, I was much too entranced by this girl.

After her funny look at my brother, Cynthia turned around.

“This is Laura.”

Laura turned toward me, smiled and offered her hand.

“Laura, this is John, Carl’s brother.”

There was firmness in the way she said Carls’ name, but she was smiling so I figured it was a private joke. I shook Laura’s hand and Carl pulled away from the curb. Laura grasped my hand firmly for more than a second and it made me look into her eyes.

Maybe it’s been my emotional state, but I’ve always been receptive looking into people’s eyes. It’s an uncanny ability to tell whether I can trust them, as well as the ability to detect their feelings and general thoughts. I don’t mean “reading their minds” or anything like that. More like good or bad “vibes”. This time was different. My hand felt strange in hers. Looking into her eyes was like looking into a mirror. They were so dark, I couldn’t tell what color they were. With her hand in mine and our eyes fixed on each others, it was like I was being read and she was doing the reading. It was a little exciting and a little unnerving all at once.

“Nice to meet you, John.” Laura said and let go of my hand.

She turned her head forward, but her eyes fixed on mine until her head was turned straight again. As she talked idly about off the wall subjects with Carl and Cynthia, I caught myself looking at her again. Now as far as my own opinion of my poetry, I’ve never judged it. If people said they liked it, I was happy. But if I were to write a poem about this girl, it would have to be the best thing I ever wrote. She was beautiful.

Her black hair flowed past her shoulders down to the middle of her back in waves, like the tidewaters on a dark night. As the downtown lights reflected on her hair through the back window of the car, it made it all the more beautiful. She was smiling and laughing and would occasionally toss her hair back. Her eyes were glowing, sparkling like stars as she talked. Her lips were pink and perfect. Even the way her teeth showed as she talked was exquisite. Ok, I was overwhelmed. Her body was fantastic. I found myself hoping she wouldn’t catch me as I noticed her breasts in the low-cut dress, her thin waist, perfect hips and once again her long legs, more visible now that she was sitting down. Actually, I believe she did catch me once or twice, but didn’t say anything about it. I wished I were a few years older.

On the way, Laura turned and started asking me about myself. Our conversation led into my school and activities, she tried to make me recite one of my poems, but I was too embarrassed. Even my brother and Cynthia tried to get me to make something up on the fly. Laura put her hand on mine and almost begged me to try and I was still too shy. She put a pout on her lips, folded her arms and said,

“Ok, fine… be that way.” Then she smiled.

When we pulled up to the playhouse, Laura pulled a compact out of her purse and looked at herself.

“Ohhh,” she moaned, “look at my hair! It’s a mess!”. She pulled a small brush from her purse and offered it to me. “Would you?”

I sat there frozen. She turned and offered the brush over her shoulder.

“Please?” she said with a little beg.

I wasn’t hesitating because I didn’t want to, but because I was stunned that she was asking me to. I saw my brother turn out the corner of my eye and looked at him. He raised an eyebrow and nodded like he thought I was crazy to wait. Cynthia was just looking at me in the rear-view mirror.

I took the brush in my hand. “I’m not sure I know how to do this.” I muttered and put the brush to her hair.

I started brushing in long strokes with one hand. Laura reached back with one had and took my hand with the brush. She asked for my other hand. I held it up by her shoulder and she took it gently. She placed my empty hand on the back of her head, told me to press firmly. She put my right hand with the brush beneath it and pushed downward through her hair. She pulled my left hand down along behind it.

“Like that.” she said.

She demonstrated a couple more times and I kept it up.

At that time, I couldn’t explain what it felt like. Now, I think about the how the brush moved smoothly through her hair, the waves turned through the brush with amazing ease. As my left hand followed downward, her hair was like silk under my fingers. After a few strokes, she took my left hand and put it under her hair and the brush as I stroked, so the bristles were against my fingers on the other side. “That way, you can get all the through.”, she said. The back of my hand brushed against her back above her dress as I brushed. I found myself pulling outward to avoid the contact.

“Not out,” she said, “down.”

“Oh, man.” I muttered.

The feelings inside me were strange. I was lost in her hair as I brushed.

“Something wrong?”

I hardly realized that I’d said something out loud.

“Uh, no,” I stuttered. Now I felt like I should explain myself. “It’s just that you’re hair, is so…”

And there I was… a poet, and couldn’t think of a word. After a few moments, she threw her head back, shaking her hair. She turned, smiled and took the brush.

“Thank you, John!” she said.

Her eyes were penetrating again, even in the second that she looked at me. I looked at the front seat. Carl and Cynthia were both looking at me. They both smiled and got out of the car. I was afraid I’d made a fool of myself.

We went inside. We watched “Evita” on stage. Carl had ordered wine and occasionally slipped me a glass. When I’d finish, he pull it back in front of him and order another. Eventually, Cynthia didn’t want any more and he started giving me hers. I guess I had about four or five glasses. Through the play, Laura would look at me with those eyes and smile. At one time, she looked like she was going to cry. She had turned and pushed her chair closer to me so she could see the stage. During one of her emotional times, she put her hand over on my leg. I jumped. She looked at me right away to see what was wrong, then patted my leg, leaving her hand where it was.

I looked at Carl and Cynthia and realized they couldn’t have noticed, because they were on the other side of the table. My heart sped up a little, but eventually calmed down as nothing else happened. I wrote it off as her need for a little support for her emotions.

When we left, I was a little giddy because of the wine. I jumped in the back of the car. I forgot what we were laughing about. Laura hopped in and immediately slid all the way over, pinning me against the door. She was laughing, too, and I made little of the motion. I was having a good time. Carl said something to Cynthia that left an opening for a sexual “innuendo”. Being in my frame of mind, I opened my big mouth and took advantage of it. It was one of those things you say, and as soon as you realize it, you wish you could take it back. Not because it wasn’t funny, it was hilarious because they all laughed. It was because it was something I probably shouldn’t have said.

Laura laughed and said “You’re bad!” as she grabbed my arm. “Oooo, and you’re strong, too!”

Embarrassed again, I laughed and apologized.

“That’s ok,” she said, “and you’re funny.”

Her hand went from my arm back to my leg and a short quick sense of soberness swept over me again as I caught my breath. But it must not have been so obvious this time, because she didn’t react. Cynthia and Carl started talking in the front seat.

“So,” Laura said, “do you have a girlfriend?”

I wasn’t sure how I should answer that. I didn’t believe she was really coming on to me because she was older. It could have been the wine making her get close. But again, in my frame of mind, I figured honesty was the best policy.

“No.” I said replied calmly.

She drew her head back, still leaning against me.

“What? All of the things I’ve heard about you, and you don’t have a girlfriend?”

“I’m not too good with girls.” I muttered, trying to keep a grin on my face.

I was beginning to get the depressed again. It was probably the wine.

“I don’t believe that,” she said softly, “Why?”

I felt like I was going to choke up. I took a long deep breath to regain my composure and to gain time to think about what I was going to say. I guess I took too long.

“You don’t have to talk about it.” she said

I took another deep breath to try once more; too long again. “It might help,” she almost whispered, “maybe I can help.”

I felt stupid. I didn’t know her. Maybe she was older than me, but she was still a girl. How could I explain it to her?

I tried to turn my depressed feelings into an “psychiatric” mood, in order to get them under control. I sighed and started

“I shouldn’t bore you with this. It’s my problem”

“How do you know, unless you tell me?” she said.

Another big sigh, and I let go. Again, I guess it was the wine, but I started spilling my stories about what happened with girls since I started getting interested. I kept my voice down so Carl and Cynthia wouldn’t hear me. Laura listened intently. I looked at her a couple of times. Her eyes were concerned now, but I still felt embarrassed and scared.

“Well, that’s it,” I said, “I just screw things up”.

We were pulling up in front of Carl’s apartment. Laura reached up and turned my head to face her.

“That’s not what I’m hearing.” she said.

Carl looked up in the mirror.

“Hey, it’s been awful quiet back there! You guys still alive?” Laura sat up and smiled.

“Just having an adult conversation!” Laura answered.

“John? Adult? Since when?” Carl laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I answered. Carl turned around.

“Look, Cynthia and I have to go see how her aunt is. Would you guys mind staying here for a while? We’ll give you a call and tell you how everything’s going.”

Before I could answer, Laura spoke up.

“We can wait. John here will protect me, he’s a big boy.”

I have to be honest. I really didn’t think anything would happen, but the possibilities were promising.

Really, I liked Laura. She seemed to care and listen. She was…. comfortable. “Cool”, I said as I opened the door. Laura practically pushed me out when the door opened because she was leaning on me. We started laughing and I helped her out of the car. Carl handed me his apartment key and we waved goodbye as they drove away. Laura was giggling, trying to get the keys away from me.

We got to the apartment. I opened the door and we “fell in”. Carls’ apartment was nice. It was carpeted. He had all the best goodies. A bar, big-screen TV, cable, very cool stereo system, designer furniture, you name it. Hey, he was a computer whiz. He made the money. Laura stepped into the middle of the room and twirled around, smiling, her dress and hair raising as she spun. Another look at those legs. Man, oh man, oh man. She stopped, staggered a little and looked around.

“Music?” she said.

I walked over by the stereo and turned on the radio. On came alternative music. While I was standing by the radio, she walked up close behind me and put her chin on my left shoulder.

Perfume. I had smelled it before in the car, but now it was strong. Her breath was warm on my ear. Her breasts were pressed up against my back. She reached over my right shoulder and started pushing the scan button, going through stations. I couldn’t believe it. I started shaking, my heart started pounding. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I felt her turn her head face toward me, her lips almost touching my ear.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

As her hot breath went into my ear, my brain went crazy. The wine, I thought to myself quickly. I’m making something out of nothing. I’ve got to get away from her before I do or say something stupid. But I couldn’t move.

“Just nervous, I suppose.” I said.

I swear, I didn’t know where that came from.

She had found a station with quiet music. She took my hand and turned me around to face her.

“Why? Do I make you nervous?” she asked taking my other hand. Now I felt like a little kid. I was looking at the floor at her feet.

“Look at me, John”, she said.

I looked up.

“Do I make you nervous?” she asked again.

“I don’t know”, I said, realizing again it was the response of a nervous little kid.

Laura led me to the couch and set me down. She had obviously seen the bar.

“Wait here.” she said.

She walked to the bar, looked around and eventually brought two glasses of white wine from the small refrigerator. She handed me one.

“Now, tell your therapist what haven’t you told me about the girls you went out with, or are there girls you haven’t told me about?”

She had a smile on her face and was a little “matter-of-fact” in her tone of voice. I smiled.

“I swear! That’s all there is!”

“Then I don’t understand,” she said, “What is it that you think you’re doing wrong?”

Her voice was so up draft now, I felt more comfortable talking about it. I suppose it was like talking to a psychiatrist.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly, “I guess I’m afraid I’ll never get it right.”

I took a gulp of wine.

“And what is that?” she asked.

Ooops. The question came too fast after the statement. How do I answer that without getting “personal”? I took another swallow of wine.

“And what is it you’re afraid you won’t get right?” she asked once more.

I probably had a sheepish grin on my face as I looked away. I set my glass down kind of non-chalantly.

“C’mon,” I said with a snicker, “You know.”

“Tell me.” She said.

I guess the wine was giving me a little strength again. I looked straight at her.

“Making contact! Touching! Whether or not I should! Is it wrong? Is it right? Man! I don’t know!”

Ooops again. I had blurted all that out like I was frustrated at being grilled, like I wanted to just “get it out in the open”.

Laura smiled.

“See? Talk about it! No one will ever know about what’s going on unless you talk about it.”

She put her glass down on the table. She sat next to me, her leg brushing up against mine. She leaned against me, took my hand and pulled our hands into her lap. Her thighs were warm. She touched my cheek with her other hand, then ran her fingers up into my hair.

“John, there’s such a thing as the wrong time and the wrong place. There’s such a thing as the wrong person. It happens. You have to realize that.”

She had sat so close now that her breasts almost touching me. Her low-cut blue dress was sparkling in the one light in the apartment. Her breasts were more than half-exposed. I looked away.

“Tell me,” she whispered softly, “are you afraid of me, John?”.

I thought a second. “I don’t think so,” I said.

“Why do you think you might be?”

I didn’t answer. It would have been the same stupid answer. I thought I would do something wrong. She turned my head to look at her again.

“You’re afraid you won’t do the right thing, aren’t you?”

It was as if she read my mind.

“I suppose.”

Stupid. Of course that was why. Laura leaned closer toward me and crossed her legs. She opened my hand that was in her lap and put it flat against her waist. She held it there for a moment and let go. I left it where it was. She placed her chin on my shoulder and started whispering directly into my ear again. It started getting pretty hot. I felt like I was sweating. I felt like my “person” was getting involved as well.

She put one hand between some buttons on my shirt, onto my chest. I knew she had to feel my heart beating. I did, even against her hand.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

Honestly? I thought I was having a heart attack. I couldn’t say that.

“It’s hot in here” I said. (Duuuuhhhh.)

She smiled. “And why do you think that is?”

Well, as long as I was on a roll….

“Because you’re making it hot in here”,

“Good!” she said softly. “So you would say that I want you to touch me. I expect you to, right?”

“I would guess so.” I said.

“There are times”, she started “when a girl wants to be touched. Sometimes she wants to be touched just to know you care. This could be that kind of touch.”

I had to admit. It was nice.

Again she got even closer to my ear. He lips brushed lightly against them.

“Can you dance?” she asked.

My Dad had shown me how to slow dance, and I explained that it was really all I knew.

“Great!” she said.

She popped up off of the couch, handed me my glass and picked up her glass. I took a gulp from the glass and put it down. She put hers down next to mine and pulled me into the middle of the room. She put one hand behind my neck and the other behind my back. At first I hesitated, trying to decide where to put my arms, when I finally clasped my fingers behind her lower back.

She moved close. The perfume on her neck was strong again. Her thick, silky black hair was over my arms and it felt soft and sensuous. She kicked off her high heels, which made us almost the same height. She was still taller, probably by about an inch. Her perfume, her hair in my face, her fingers and breath on my neck. It was heavenly. We swayed slowly to the music. She moved even closer. Her breasts were against my chest. One of her legs pressed into my crotch. I sighed, and tried to control the nervousness that crept up slowly once more. My ears were on fire and I felt like I was burning up.

“Relax,” she whispered, “just enjoy the dance.”

I noticed I was getting hard, and tried to pull my hips away to keep her from feeling it. She moved her hand from the middle of my back down to my rear and pulled me forward against her. At the same time, she pulled her head back, shaking her hair out of her face as much as she could and stared straight into my eyes.

“John, Do you think I’m attractive?”

I swallowed a lump in my throat.

“You’re more beautiful than any girl I’ve ever known”. I said.

“If that’s true,” she said. “Then think about this. I think you’re an extremely attractive young man. You’re emotional, honest and…” she looked down the front of me. “strong”, she finished. “I trust you. You’re not going to do anything wrong. Relax. Let me help.”

In those few words and the serious look in her eyes, I felt all my fears drain. She pulled herself close to me again and we continued dancing.

In a few moments, she pulled my hands apart from behind her back and placed one of them on one of her cheeks; the ones in the back. I felt her cheek below the silky dress, warm and soft beneath my hand.

“Mmmmmm,” she whispered.

I felt the vibration in her chest against mine. My head started swirling. It was like dancing in the clouds. I found myself nuzzling into her neck, drowning in the smell of her perfume. I felt her cheek rise against mine as she smiled. After a few more moments, she pulled back away from me. She took both of my hands in hers and held them between us.

“Do you want to touch me?” she asked.

My inhibitions were all but completely gone.

“Yes” I said.

“I want you to touch me,and I want to touch you.”

She looked around the apartment.

“Where’s the bedroom?” she asked.

I looked over in the direction of the bedroom.

“Over there.”

She started walking backwards, looking back occasionally, holding both of my hands as we walked. My heart started racing again. My mind struggled to believe what was happening. She found the bedroom and backed into it. She turned us both around and kicked the door closed. She stood up close to me, looking deep into my eyes.

“Are you nervous?” she asked.

It was a mute question. My forehead was now sweating. My palms were sweating, I was taking deep breaths, and I was swallowing constantly. She didn’t wait for an answer.

“You don’t have to be. Everything is going to be fine. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

My tie was already loose. She started unbuttoning my shirt slowly, pulling it from my pants as she got lower. She never removed her gaze from my eyes. I tried to act calm, but I just knew my eyes showed the excited expectations of the moment. At this precise instant, it was scary to think that my powers of observation into people’s eyes were being used against me. She gently pulled my shirt open and down off of my shoulders, so it was hanging out of my pants in the back. She looked down at my chest and ran her fingernails gently across it. I shuddered.

She looked back up into my eyes. In this light, her eyes were as dark as her hair. I almost couldn’t see her pupils. She spun around, almost so quickly that she surprised me. She reached behind and pulled her hair off of her back, revealing the zipper to her dress.

“Please?” she asked.

I wiped my sweaty palms off on my pants and reached for the top of her zipper. There was a small clasp at the top, and my hands were quivering so much that I struggled with it. She pulled her hair to the front and reached back and unhooked the clasp. I sighed, and pulled the zipper about halfway down her back. She waited a moment, turned her head looking back at me, then looked forward again and waited. I pulled the zipper the rest of the way down.

The top of her dress peeled away from her back as it unzipped. She was shaped like a goddess. Her skin was smooth and soft. Now the zipper unzipped all the way down, halfway past her panties. She was wearing light blue silk panties, and there was a garter belt above them. Her head turned first, I guess to see the look on my face. I realized my jaw was hanging slightly open. I shut my mouth and swallowed.

She was holding the front of her dress up with one hand as she turned around. She leaned forward, put her other hand behind my head and kissed me on the lips, long, gentle and passionate. A strange effect. My heart and breathing slowed down. My eyes closed. It was as if I’d been drugged or something. She pulled away slowly. Just as I opened my eyes, she lowered the front of her dress. The dress apparently had some kind of support, because she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her breasts stood out firm, her nipples were beautiful and tan colored against the rest of her smooth white skin. I looked down as she let her dress slide to the floor.

As the sparkling dress lay in contrast on the black carpet, I started looking back up. She was wearing silk stockings held up by the blue garters above her waist. I was mixed up now, calm but nervous; excited but apprehensive.

“I’m sorry, I don’t…” I started.

“Shhhh.” She interrupted. She took my hands, opened them up and placed them on her breasts, pressing them down.

“Touch me.” She said.

I gently massaged them in my hands, kneading them, enjoying their softness.

“Mmmm Hmmmm…”, she whispered softly. “Kiss them John.”

I dropped to one knee and began kissing her soft breasts all over; I instinctively brushed my lips over her nipples as they hardened.

“Ahhhhhh,” she sighed, as I noticed she got goosebumps on her stomach. “See, John? You’re not doing anything wrong”.

She took one of my hands from her breast and pushed it down gently over her silk panties.

“Feel me through my panties, John.” She said.

I moved my fingers over her panties. They were damp and warm. I may have been a virgin, but I knew what was going on. I’d heard about it all. The fear of doing something wrong was disappearing as she shuddered. It was like she was the one out of control now. I rubbed gently over her panties, feeling her wet lips inside them. I continued kissing her breasts and nipples. I took a nipple into my mouth. She gasped.

“Stop!” she said, panting and pushed me away.

For a split second, I thought I had done something wrong. She leaned backward, threw her long hair back over her shoulders, rubbed her breasts firmly with her hands, let them slide down to her crotch and back up. Then she stood up straight again.

She took a big step forward and pushed me hard back onto the bed. She stared into my eyes and straddled my legs, kneeling on the edge of the bed.

“Oh no, John.” She said. “You’re not doing anything wrong.”

The look was different this time. Even I knew it was a look of excitement, pure passion. She was staring at me as she unbuttoned my pants and unzipped them. She slid off of my legs and bent down to gently kiss one of my nipples. She licked it in circles as I felt it get hard. It wasn’t the only thing hard. I gasped. Her hair flowing down onto my chest and stomach, her warm breath against my chest and her hot tongue on my nipple was driving me crazy. She switched nipples, licking across my chest and slipped one hand down into my shorts. Her cool fingers wrapped around my erection. I groaned as she took hold of it firmly. She scooted back up and kissed me, putting her tongue deep into my mouth.

I was breathing like I had run a marathon, and so was she. She lifted up from my face. She looked down at me through her long hair.

“I need you, John!” she said with a voice I hadn’t heard her use before.

She let go of my dick and pulled my shoes, socks and pants off. Then she told me to move up onto the bed “right”. I moved up and put my head on the pillow, just lying there in my underwear. She stood up on the bed and straddled my waist. Looking up from the pillow, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. She was beautiful. Her hair was flowing around her breasts, trying to hide her nipples that still managed to protrude through the strands of wavy black hair. She bit her lower lip, staring down at me, smiling.

She started playing with her breasts, squeezing her nipples. I was so hard; the elastic in my underwear was off of my stomach. She licked her fingers, saliva coming from her fingertips as she drew them from her mouth. She reached down into her silk panties and started playing with herself, all the time staring at me through half-closed eyes. Between the wine, the music and this beautiful girl… woman standing over me, I was losing track of where I was. My eyes started to close. She saw me and suddenly stopped. I opened my eyes as she plopped her butt down onto my hard cock. I still had my underwear on, but I could feel her hot pussy against me. She lay down, pressing her breasts against my chest and held my arms to the bed. She started moving her hips against my crotch, rubbing her panties firmly against my hard me under my underwear. It was unbelievable.

“I want to teach you something,” she said, “but first, I want you to feel something”.

Oh, I was feeling something already.

She kissed my mouth, then licked my neck gently. She moved down and gently licked each nipple. She kept going, licking down my stomach, her wet hot tongue leaving a cooling trail of saliva down my chest and stomach. She teased my belly button with her tongue for a moment and kept moving down. I had been watching. She was looking up once in a while to see if I was.

“Lift your legs, John.” she hissed.

She started pulling my underwear off. I lifted my legs; she pulled them off and flung them on the floor.

She kneeled between my legs and took my hard dick in her hand. She licked the fingers of her other hand and rubbed her wet saliva over its head. I let my head fall partly back on the pillow as she rubbed her wet fingers gently around and around. She lowered her head and licked the underside of it. I gasped, closed my eyes, and let my head fall the rest of the way back onto the pillow. She gently licked all over my dick, my balls and crotch. I pressed my head back into the pillow, moaning, trying to lie still. As she continued, I rolled my head around. My hands gripped the blanket on the bed. I couldn’t believe the sensations. She carefully took it into her mouth and sucked it from top to bottom, bottom to top. I grabbed another deep breath, opened my eyes and looked down at her. She was still looking up at me, smiling. She took the head into her mouth and licked around it with her tongue. Then let it go. It lurched a few times as I sighed and released my grip on the blanket.

She stood back up on the bed, unhooked her garter belt and slowly pushed her fingers down into her panties. She hesitated, then pushed them downward. Her pussy was shaved. I could see it all. She pushed her panties all the way down and took off her garter belt. Her nylons were still on. She stepped forward and sat down on my chest.

“Watch, John,” she whispered, “I’ll show you how to make a girl happy”.

She threw her hair back over her shoulders and licked her fingers once more. She reached down and ran her fingers slowly around the outside edge of her pussy. She ran them down the side, to her anus, then back up the other side to the top. She licked her fingers again, and pushed them slowly down between the lips, pausing at the top. I could see her clitoris as her body twitched when she touched it. She lifted her head to look at me, as she pushed two fingers into her pussy and massaged them in and out at the top. This time, with the juices from her pussy, she slid her fingers around the lips and from the bottom to the top. She was breathing heavier now.

“John, can you make love to me, here?” she said between breaths.

At this point, I would have done anything for her.

She moved her knees over my shoulders and moved her pussy to my lips. I remembered every movement; I licked the outside of her pussy first.

“Ooooo, slower, John, take your time.” she moaned.

I slowed down. Her pussy was tart, hot and wet. I licked slowly to her anus. I hesitated, but she was clean, and smelled sexy, even there. I licked her hole and started back upward. She jerked and gasped as I crossed from her hole to the bottom of her pussy. I licked slowly up the other side, and she shook. I started at the top this time, and licked down the side of her pussy lips. She moaned loudly and put her fingers in my hair.

As I continued to lick down and back up her pussy, she pulled my head forward. She cried as I reached her clitoris and circled it with my tongue over and over. I had to look up, because I thought she was hurting, but she was still holding my face up into her and biting her lip. She was tossing her long hair back and forth now, panting and shaking. I experimented, taking her clitoris between my lips and sucking on it. She stopped suddenly, gasping with each sucking motion. I returned to licking her lips up and down; sometimes my tongue was slipping between them. I kept on. I was getting excited as she was thrusting against my face, panting, moaning.

“Stop!” Again, she screamed and jumped off of my face.

“Oooo, you wonderful young animal!” she screamed. “I want you!” She turned down by my dick and sucked it wildly.

“Whoa, man!” I yelled.

I was still mostly hard, but was getting harder fast. Her tongue was doing crazy things to my dick. I instantly grabbed the blanket and hung on. After a couple of minutes, she stopped, looked at it, pumping it with her hand. She looked at me and smiled.

“Now I have you right where I want you.” she said as if she was possessed.

She stretched one leg over my waist and lowered her hot pussy onto my dick.

“OH!” I grunted as she plunged downward.

My dick was surrounded by her hot wet tunnel. Again, I grabbed a deep breath. At first she moved slowly up and down, smiling at me as her pussy seemed to grip my dick. I must have set a record for holding my breath as she teased me, sliding up, hesitating and then pushing back down.

She was grabbing a breath herself, every time she lifted herself back up and exhaling as she pushed herself back down. Finally after moments of what seemed to be a mixture of pleasure and frustration, she pushed herself down, smiled down at me and leaned back with her hands down by my knees. I could feel her long hair against my thighs as she started to move up and down again. Now, she would move side to side sometimes. My dick was getting hot wet sensations from every direction in her pussy.

“Ohhhhh! Holy crap!” I moaned.

I heard her gasping and I thought I heard her laughing between them.

“Ahhhh, yes!” she screamed as her thrashing got wilder.

She shook wildly as I heard her take a large breath. She shook for moments and then sat up like a shot.

“Johnny, Johnny!” she hissed.

She moved almost carefully up and down on my still hard and throbbing dick.

“How could you ever think you would do anything wrong? And you’re still hard! For a boy your age, that’s surprising! But we’ll take care of that right now!”.

She fell forward against my chest and started kissing me again. I felt her legs close between my legs and my dick was pinched into her hot pussy. “Mmmmppph!” I moaned against her lips, but she didn’t let up. I felt her hips start moving again, with my dick trapped. Slow, short up and down motions, side to side again. Now it was very tight and hot. My brain went out to lunch. All I heard was the music. Her tongue was dancing inside my mouth. I felt my dick start pumping. I moaned against her mouth, the only air I was getting was coming out through my nose. I sounded like a boxer with a tooth guard, panting. I wanted to clench my teeth, but her tongue was in there, and she was drawing my tongue into her mouth. I knew I was going to climax. It was starting so hard it was bringing tears to my eyes. I opened my eyes and looked at her. Her eyes were closed. I moaned hard against her mouth as I came. I felt her lips curve into a smile.

My hips tried to move as I came, but she held me down, pumping on me. She pulled up, opened her eyes and looked into mine as my mouth hung open, gasping for air, panting and climaxing. She bent her head down and kissed my neck, still working on me with her pussy. It felt like she started biting me. Finally, I couldn’t move any more. She moved a couple more times on my shriveling dick and sat up. She smiled.

“Nice?” she smiled.

I was still too busy panting to answer. She lay down next to me and put one leg over mine. She kissed me on the neck and ear.

“See, Johnny?” she whispered. “You did nothing wrong. Everything you did was right”. I was tired, worn and exhausted. She reached over and snapped off the table lamp.

“What about Carl?” I asked.

“Shhhhh,” she whispered. “just rest”. It was probably all the wine, but as much as I wanted more, I fell asleep.

“Hey! Someone’s’ been sleeping in my bed! And he’s still there!”

I jerked up in the bed and it was daylight.

“Oh, man!” I yelled as the light burned into my head. “My heads killing me! Close the blinds!”

“Well, it’s no wonder,”, Carl said, “You had wine at the play and I don’t know how many here.”

“One.” I mumbled and pulled a pillow over my head. Suddenly I shot up. I was covered up, and was the only one in bed. I looked around.

“Laura’s gone,” Carl said, “She left early this morning.”

He moved closer to take a look at me. “Hmmmmm, vampires out last night?”

I looked in the dresser mirror. Laura had left a good sized hickey on my neck.

“This is for you.”

He tossed it at me and left the room. It was an envelope. I opened it up. I found a poem that I had written inside. It was attached to a letter from Laura.

Dear Johnny:

Please don’t be disappointed. I’m a professional girl, I’m really 21. but I’m also a good friend of Carls’. We go back farther than you’ll probably ever know, unless he decides to tell you. Carl told me about the problems you had with girls and I asked him if I could help. It wasn’t his fault. It was mine. He showed me some of the poems you had written and I actually cried. There is no reason anyone should feel this way about love or life. The one I’ve enclosed is the one that I want you to read again. Read it now, then finish this letter.

Love – Definitions Divided

The emotional…

Love is joy, an experience, shared by two

Love is unity, and life renewed

Love is desire and mutual affection

Love is a strong and timeless connection

The physical…

But when Love becomes corporeal

It can be cruel and cold as steel

When a gentle touch leads to fear

Or a touch becomes necessary to seem dear

Then what?

Then what is Love, emotion or touch

Can it be both? Is that too much?

Perhaps in life I’ll never know

Knowing not where it’s safe to go.

I went back to the letter.

Johnny, I can tell love is important to you. You’ve capitalized it in every instance in your poem. You’ve had some bad experiences in love. Both physical and emotional can happen, and at the same time. You have a heart of gold and genuine feelings.

Someone will see that some day. It’ll be worth the wait. You’ll know and she’ll know when the time is right. Be patient.

Thank you for last night. I’ll remember it the rest of my life.

Love, Laura

PS. And never, never, never worry about knowing what to do to please your girl. You have no problem there. Trust me!

Laura

Well, she was right. Carl and I had a long talk that morning. I knew where to find Laura, but I never looked for her. I knew why she wanted to help me that night and I had a renewed faith in the possibilities of my search for affection; physical and emotional.

That’s it!

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This story may NOT be posted to any other web site or printed in any hardcopy publication without the author’s permission.

Copyright (c) 2005 John J. Jones