A Kiss is Still a Kiss

"Uh..." he felt like a simpleton, his tongue tripping over itself. She was so gorgeous, how could he concentrate on the play with her looking like that?

"Come on up to my room," she said, closing the door behind him, then leading him up the sumptuous staircase that led around the entrance hall up to a landing in the huge house. Harry wondered where Samantha's parents were, dreading meeting them a little – he wasn't dressed in expensive clothes, after all, he'd probably present a poor impression.

"You know, Amy's been warning me about you," she said as they walked.

"She has?"

"Yeah. She thinks you're a dork because you're not into the whole jock-football thing."

"Oh," he said, not so much surprised that Amy thought he was a dork, but that Samantha would reveal her secrets to him like that.

"You know, I thought you were a bit of a dork too," she said with an amused glance, "before you opened my eyes."

His heart was pounding again – he was almost surprised she couldn't hear it, it was so loud, so forceful. What was she saying?

"You know, I think it's easy to see anyone outside your social circle as a bit of a dork," she said. "I mean, you probably weren't particularly fond of me before... well... anyway, here we are – this is my room!"

Samantha's bedroom – he was standing in Samantha Williams' bedroom. What kind of a miracle of fate was that? If he'd told Finch that one day he'd be standing in Samantha Williams' bedroom, Finchy would have laughed his socks off and urged him to go see a shrink. But here he was.

It was an immense bedroom – Harry was pretty sure that you could have put an entire floor of his house in her bedroom. Spacious, light, breezy, it had no clothes lying about like in the normal teenager's bedroom and everything was spotless. No doubt they had a maid or something.

"You like it?" she asked.

"Uh... yeah..."

"It's got a gorgeous view, too. We only moved in a few months ago." She closed the bedroom door, shutting them into the great luxurious bedroom. "Now," she said, a flicker of fire in her eyes, "let's get down to business, shall we?"

Harry pulled out his copy of Romeo & Juliet from his back pocket, and said: "Where do you want to go from?"

He looked up to find her right there, standing just inches away from him.

"I want to go from where you kiss me," she said, and leaned towards him, her soft lips touching gently against his before opening up into a sweet, wet kiss.

It was amazing, the sweetest experience ever, she kissed him and brought her hands up to support his head as she did so, while he found his hands moving to her back, pulling her towards him, kissing her back – so tenderly, so sweetly.

It went on for an age and a while, and periodically he would open his eyes as if to check he wasn't dreaming. She was so beautiful, lips locked to his, tight little body pressed to his, her exquisite scent filling his lungs.

Harry was trembling when they finally broke apart, but Samantha was beaming broadly, an ecstatic smile on her pretty features.

"You are so amazing," she said breathlessly. "I didn't know it was possible to kiss someone like that."

Harry was speechless.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, worried he would freak her out or something. "I've just never known anyone as beautiful as you."

She blushed slightly, and kissed him briefly again. "You're the sweetest thing, you know that?" she said, then she said: "You think we should practice that scene where Romeo and Juliet are on the bed together?"

"Wh-what scene was that?" he asked.

"Oh, I think it was in the deleted scenes," she joked, "Shakespeare had to cut it because the studio kept bitching about running time."

She smiled, lust in her eyes, and pulled him over to her bed. Damn, she was gorgeous. Harry felt the tightness inside his pants – he hoped she wouldn't notice just how strong her effect was on him.

Lying there next to him, she pulled the copy of Romeo & Juliet from his hands and tossed it over to the bedside table. "You're so sweet, bringing the script," she said. "I mean, wasn't it obvious I didn't want to practice my lines with you?"

"Well, I guess..." he said, trying to appear confident but failing miserably. How could he have possibly have known for certain she didn't want to run over the lines? "I... I thought you were with Jeb," he said, surprising himself by bringing up the issue of Samantha's boyfriend. On second thought, he was pleased he had brought it up, it had to be brought up.

"Jeb's a big dumb lug," the pretty brunette said. "He's like a gorilla, he treats me like a trophy and I'm sick of it. I only ever went out with him because he was like the Alpha-Male of the group. Amy and Greg is the same, I'll bet."

"Oh," he said, every other thing Samantha said seemed to astound him.

"That time you kissed me," she said, trailing a soft finger down his cheek, "you showed me that there really can be tenderness between two people. I... I guess I've always gone out with guys like Jeb."

"While I've known you," Harry nodded and smiled.

"Well, that's gonna change," she said, and planted a peck of a kiss on his lips. "I don't care what anyone says – even Amy." She slipped a cool hand up under his shirt, caressing his chest, and kissed him again.

"But Amy hates me," he said, breaking away from Samantha.

"Amy doesn't know what's good for her," Samantha said. But Harry still felt slightly awkward.

He said: "But you two have been friends forever – if she doesn't approve, she'll be pissed at you."

"If she's like that, she shouldn't be my friend," Samantha said simply, and that was apparently that.

They lay on her bed and for a long while, just kissed. It was sensational, exploring each other's mouths, tongues dancing, lips tangling, soft like silk. Harry was a fast learner, it seemed, because though he'd never done this before, he was soon confident.

But slightly afraid of what he was allowed or not allowed to do, he did not try to move things further. He was happy enough to be kissing her, this most beautiful of girls, enjoying rolling around with her, running his fingers through her soft hair, caressing her cheek, her neck, nibbling gently on her lips, breathing in her sweet scent.

At length, he was conscious that they'd been in the bedroom for quite a while, and he broke apart from her, saying: "What time is it? Are your parents going to object to us being – "

"My parents are probably at some restaurant," she said, seeming flushed now, but apparently as happy as he was. "They don't care – I'm old enough to do what I like now. Are your parents expecting you -?"

"As long as I'm home by midnight there won't be a problem," he said.

"Great," she said with an impish grin, "then we've got plenty of time."

For so long, they just kissed, until it seemed that she was purposefully pressing her chest against his – a sign? A signal of consent for him to touch her breasts? He wasn't sure. He didn't know.

Then she put her hand on his cock, emitting a sexy little moan as she felt his hardness, and Harry decided that this gave him the right to touch her breasts.

She moaned louder as Harry placed his hands tentatively on the soft rise of her breasts, and he figured that was as good as a permission slip. As she began to caress his erection through his pants, he began to caress her firm little breasts, slowly and gently at first as if to give her ample time to get him to stop. But she didn't want him to stop. Her moaning grew louder, more breathless,

She continued to stroke his cock through the thick material of his trousers, and slowly Harry built up enough courage to slip his hands under her shirt. Moving so slowly, again leaving her time to stop him, tell him he was going too far, he cupped her handful-sized breasts in his palms, feeling the heat of her irresistible mounds and the stiffness of her nipples through the thin soft cotton of her bra.

For a long while, it stayed like that – again, Harry worried he wasn't allowed to go any further. She enjoyed the slow pace of their exploration, though, it seemed. It was wonderful – really exploring each other, inch by inch, every now and then taking a fresh step, taking the risk of going a little further.

Sure about the boundaries they had already broken through, he felt safe kissing her, caressing her, touching her breasts through her underwear. Then as her moaning and pressing against him seemed more urgent, he weighed up the risk and decided to break another boundary.

He slipped his fingers up under her bra, dipping inside it from the top to touch her incredibly soft skin under the tight cotton. He gasped at the sensational softness of her bare breasts and his first touch of her stiff little buds. Had he gone too far? No, she was smiling at him, kissing him, touching his cock through his pants, moaning as he took her hard nipples between his fingers and thumbs and began to squeeze them.

"Oh God..." she cried out, then battled to remove her top and her bra.

Harry took in another breath in wonderment as she revealed her pert little breasts to him for the first time. Unbelievable. Feeling that she was again giving him permission to go further, he began to kiss his way down her neck, then onwards to the soft little pillows of her breasts. She had cute tanlines, the bare flesh of her breasts white compared to the slight brown of the rest of her skin. And her nipples were so pink, so hard.

Samantha Williams, topless in his embrace.

Kissing his way around her exquisite breasts, he took her nipples into his hot mouth and drew out a long, loud groan. He loved that she was allowing him to take his time, that she seemed to love every caress, every touch. He didn't know and didn't care how many other guys she'd been with before, but the way she was acting now was like she'd never been touched before. It was new, exciting, exhilarating.

Then something incredible happened. He was sucking hard on one nipple, teasing the other in his hand and coaxing both breasts with his hands, periodically switching over breasts, and she seemed to be responding well to his attentions. He took his time, feeling comfortable in the act though it was both intimate and dangerously close to where he thought she might say "no more". Then her moaning changed tone, growing higher in pitch, more breathless, more urgent and definitely louder.

Uncertain, he slowed and almost stopped his ministrations – but she quickly pressed his head to her again, urging him in no uncertain terms to continue. He did so, and her moaning again accelerated and became more vigorous, until Harry was worried that Samantha's parents would surely come running to find out their daughter's torment.

It grew to the point at which she was almost yelping, her body writhing underneath him. Then suddenly her whole body seemed to shake, and she became silent in an instant.

"My God!" she said breathlessly, "What the hell was that?"

"A-Are you all right?" he asked her, feeling slightly worried that he'd hurt her somehow.

"My God yeah!" she said, kissing his forehead. "That was amazing – how do you do that?"

It was only on the way home again, the clock having reached twelve in miraculously quick time, he figured that perhaps she had had an orgasm. Could girls really do that by just having their breasts touched?

He was so tired when he got home, he felt quickly asleep despite all the strange feelings rushing around his system. Would they have gone further if they'd had time? Or would that be as far as it got? How much further was further?

There were a lot of questions in his mind, not least how to deal with Amy. Samantha had said she didn't want Amy to know for a while, until she'd figured out how to tell her without ruining their close friendship.

So the next day, both Harry and Samantha acted as though nothing had happened. But at rehearsal, there was a glint in both of their eyes, and in the middle of one break, Samantha whispered to him that he should go over to her house again that evening.

*

The next evening was the same as before: Harry turned up on Samantha's doorstep, and was ushered into the pink-and-white confines of her huge bedroom.

There, she fell into his arms again, kissing him, holding him, and it still felt very strange being so intimate with the princess of popularity.

"I've been craving this all day," she said as they moved towards the bed again.

"Me too," he replied, kissing her again.

She was wearing a similar tank-top again, but this time a very short pink pleated skirt – a signal they were to go further? But whatever, she looked gorgeous, as ever. As she lay on the bed and patted the mattress beside her, gesturing for him to come over, he even thought he caught sight of her panties – but perhaps not.

Her legs were as gorgeous as the rest of her, toned, slightly tanned, smooth and velvety. Harry didn't stop long to look, though, but went over to her on the bed.

Like last time, they started by kissing and touching each other, but Harry found that he was comfortable and confident in doing with her anything right up until the boundaries they had reached the night before. So though they again took their time, it was much quicker before they reached the point at which they had ended things the night before.

Harry soon had her topless before him, her perfect breasts available to be caressed and kissed, stroked and sucked. They were comfortable together with being naked from the waist up, and Samantha even began to grind her pussy on his hardness, covered by his pants – and her panties.

For a while, it seemed to Harry that this would be as far as they would go. But then she took them one step further.

He had taken to planting kisses all around her beautifully toned stomach, which he found as much of a thrill as kissing her breasts: her midriff was stunning, and seeing it bared during the day meant that when he came to caress it with kisses, it was a real thrill. And kissing his way along the belt line of her skirt, he detected the trace of a new scent he had never encountered before, just under her subtle perfume, a slight mustiness.

As Harry was considering this, Samantha reached down and pulled up her skirt – causing Harry to draw in another gasp. His heart-rate soared as she revealed more of herself to him, even more personal than before – her panties at the top of those long, smooth legs: a little scrap of the most expensive and luxurious white lace.

That gently musty scent was thicker now, and he realised it had to be her arousal. That gave him yet another thrill. But what did she want him to do now? He moved between her legs now, and played it safe by kissing his way around her slender thighs. Though he was playing it safe, the closer he came to her pussy, the more audible her moans became.

Harry's mind was almost on overload: her pussy was right there in front of him, covered by the flimsiest scrap of lace, apparently oozing her spicy scent as he caused arousal within her. Samantha Williams, spread before him. Available. Allowing him, now, to kiss his way right close to her pretty panties, her aroma so intoxicating and strengthening every minute.

Samantha tilted her hips slightly, and raised her pussy up a little, making him aware that she wanted him to push the boundaries a bit more. He wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to do, but as he had first touched her breasts through her underwear, he did so again with her pussy, tentatively brushing her panties from her mound down to her pussy. Her panties were wet, soaking wet, saturated with her juices, and as he touched her there, Samantha let out an especially forceful moan.

That had to be a good sign, so Harry continued to trail his fingers around her panties, loving the heat he could feel through the delicate lace, the moisture that came from her aroused pussy. She purred and almost growled as he did so, loving his touch there.

Still, he took his time, not wanting to rush anything, wanting to indulge in every sensation he could, perhaps even teasing himself by leaving that skimpy lace barrier between himself and her pussy, the pussy of a girl he'd lusted after since he knew how to lust.

Harry's cock was so hard underneath him, straining under his weight, but this was such an amazing experience he didn't even think about it. He was inhaling her sexual aroma with every breath, that thick musky scent that seemed to thrill him to the core. He was stroking the juicy pussy of Samantha Williams! And she was so beautiful, writhing around as he touched her skimpy panties, her moisture seeming to saturate most of the material now, she was so aroused.

As he stroked her with his fingers, he continued to kiss around the edge of her panties, but then as the time progressed, he grew bold enough again to take the next step, planting soft kisses on her panties, tasting her moisture for the first time.

She let out another long, low moan as he pressed his hot mouth to her most sensitive area, covered only by that thin lace. He loved her flavour: it was strange at first, but he liked it. Spicy, salty, luxurious and exotic.

"Oh God..." she moaned as he ran his tongue along the groove that marked her pussy underneath the lace.

Looking up at her from that angle was so wonderful, seeing her flat stomach, cute breasts with those pebble-hard nipples, her pretty face contorted by bliss. Her eyes were closed, her hands by her side, gripping the bedclothes as she continued to writhe under his teasing mouth.

A little later, he decided he was in such a position that she would hardly stop him if he slipped a finger under the scrap of material covering her pussy. Would she? Surely not.

It was time to take the risk: he slipped a single finger under the side of her panties. She didn't stop him, and her moans even seemed to be encouraging him. He used his finger to stoke her, detecting a tidy patch of silky public hair – so real, so sexy. So soaking wet with her juices.

He was stroking this pretty girl's mound, running his fingers through her pubic hair, and she wasn't stopping him, she wasn't outraged. She was actively urging him on by pushing her hips upwards slightly and letting out the kind of urgent moans that had indicated an approaching orgasm the previous day, he had thought.

Suddenly, his finger was gently running along the silken folds of her pussy lips, he was touching her pussy! Dipping inside her slightly for the first time, Harry waited to see if she was comfortable with going that far. Her loudest moan yet seemed to confirm that she was. She gasped as he boldly but slowly drew his finger inside her hot, tight vagina.

Samantha was so incredibly wet, her juices were slick around Harry's finger, lubricating it as he penetrated her. Her soft vagina, smouldering hot, squeezing his finger as it glided inside her as far as it could go.

"Oh Harry..." she gasped,

Harry saw her alarm clock, showing the time was approaching midnight – he was going to have to go! He decided to take one more risk before calling it a night, there was just time to breach one more boundary – if she was willing.

Slowly – again, giving her time to object – he nudged aside her panties, revealing her pussy in all its glory for the first time. Nestled in the middle of the pale skin of her tan lines, her tidy triangle of mousy hair matched the hair on her head, and below it opened her pink, glistening flower, so juicy and tempting for him lying there.

He kissed her mound, just above her clitoris, where her pussy lips began. He kissed her there and breathed in the sweet cocktail of aromas – her perfume and her arousal in a sweet blend. She responded with a long groan, and as his kisses approached her pussy lips, she moaned more desperately, more urgently, as she had the time before as he had sucked her nipples.