A Date for the Prom

"I want to teach you how to please a woman, Jim, I want to teach you how to make her body sing, but I think that first I'm going to have to let you give our mutual friend his head and get him to fuck me, because if I don't have him soonI am going to explode with frustration."

She lay back on the bed and spread her legs. She was swollen with anticipation although then I didn't know what I was looking at, and there was moisture visible in her slit. She held her arms out. "Come to me, Jim."

I knelt on the bed between her spread legs and she coaxed me forwards, gripping my swollen prick gently and guiding it into herself, into her very being. I stopped, mesmerised, at the feel of the hot, wet velvet pit around me. She smiled and urged me on until suddenly I was buried in her up to my balls. She squeezed down on me with her inner muscles and I jumped at the sensation.

"Fuck me, Jim," she whispered. "Don't worry about me, this is your moment, sweetheart. Enjoy it, because I will!"

I began to thrust, withdrawing slightly and then pressing forward again. My hips picked up a rhythm and I began to make my strokes longer, revelling in the scald and slither of her pussy, the novelty of having my prick somewhere other than the familiar locale of my hand.

"That's it, sweetheart, just like that," she whispered, her hands on my back, her own hips rising to meet mine as I moved. "Oh, fuck me, baby, fuck me!"

I lengthened my stroke, moving faster now, thrusting hard. Catherine was moving beneath me, around me, clinging, gripping. I could feel the sensation building in me, the tightness in my chest, the intense tenderness around my prick, building, building.

"I'm going to come," I moaned, then, panicking, realising I had no protection, tried to withdraw.

She grabbed me tightly, clinging, whispering, "In me, sweetheart, cum in my pussy. It's all right, it is, cum in me, cum for me, cum for Cathy, baby."

I came. I came hard, jerking in release, jetting my seed deep within her, trembling at that exquisite agony that touches a man's glans at the moment of release, trembling into a panting immobility as I tried to recover my equilibrium.

Her hands were warm on my back, her thighs lightly grasping me, the soft silky slither of her stockings tantalising against my skin, her voice murmuring "Yes, yes, yes," as I gradually slowed.

Eventually, stilling, I raised my head and gazed into her face. Her smile was beautiful, tender. "Was it good, Jim? Did you enjoy it?" she asked.

"Good comes nowhere near," I managed to say. "It was truly wonderful." I shook my head. "I didn't use protection. I'm sorry." I smiled wryly. "My dad even gave me some rubbers, he said a gentleman never puts a lady at risk."

"He's right," she said, still smiling, "but this lady has her own protection. I'm still on the pill. You don't need to worry about me." She sat up a little and kissed my nose. "You can keep the rubbers for Alison."

"What!" I exclaimed. "Me and her, we're history!"

"History sometimes gets rewritten, Jim. I was watching her eyes tonight. She still has something going for you."

"Maybe you're right, but I have nothing going for her!"

She smiled and said nothing, drawing my head down on her shoulder. We lay like that for a few minutes and then she stirred, easing me back. My prick was well shrunken now and as I moved slipped easily from her pussy. I rolled to my back beside her and she came up onto her elbow and kissed me lightly.

"Stay here, James Bartlett. Your next lesson begins immediately," she said and rolled over to get lightly to her feet, disappearing into the bathroom. She was back in moments with a warm, soapy washcloth and a towel, bathing my prick and drying it carefully.

"Now me," she said, handing me the cloth and towel, spreading her legs for my touch. I was very gentle, scared I might hurt her, slow in my care, fascinated by the complexities of the entrance to her core. She smiled at me as I finished drying her and pulled herself up the bed a little, her legs still spread.

"Have you ever eaten a girl, Jim?" she asked softly.

"No," I said, "Listening to the guys in the locker room, they make it sound gross." Oh, my god! Does she want me to eat her? Can I do it? I have to,she ateme. And I think I want to.

"I went down on you, Jim, will you go down on me?"

I looked at her. "I'll try, if you tell me what you like." God, please let me do this right!

She applauded gently. "Well done, a man who is ready to learn, who doesn't think he's God's gift to women. First, just lean in and breathe. It takes time to appreciate how a woman smells. You know I'm clean, because you just washed me."

I leaned on my elbows and moved my face close to her pussy. I could feel the heat from her and the tantalising aroma of her pussy juices. I moved in closer, extending my tongue, trying to make it pointed, and lapped gently, tentatively, at her core.

"Aah, yes!" she said. "Lick my lips as well, Jim, my outer lips and my inner lips. Suck them gently, move your lips on them, kiss them."

I did as she asked, letting my lips roam her nether lips, savouring the salty-sweet heat, lapping with my tongue, enjoying the sensations I seemed to be giving her, which she seemed to be enjoying, too, if her little gasps and moans were anything to go by.

I stayed away from her clitoris, I don't know why, but I was glad I had when she softly warned me, in a whisper that was almost a gasp. "Careful, Jim! My clit gets very sensitive when I'm going to cum, lover, so please be careful. When I'm getting close, then, only then, please lick it very gently. Lick alongside it at first. I'm sure you'll be able to hear me panting when you get it right. When I'm almost ready to go pop, lick the end of it and watch out for your ears!"

Gently, I reached out with my tongue to lick alongside her clit, licking up along the side of the hood and then down the other side. I kept this up for a few moments and then went back to kissing and licking her lips, only now I added the occasional lick alongside her clitoris. When she told me to watch out for my ears I didn't know that she meant her knees would nearly strangle me, I thought she meant she'd yell. I guess we were both right, because I could hear her panting and she told me hoarsely, "lick my clit, Jim!"

I did, flicking the tip of my tongue across it. She exploded. Yes, I think that's the only word that is anywhere near apt. Her thighs clamped on my head, her belly rippled and she screamed a tight scream deep in her throat as the sensations took her over the top, shuddering to her climax.

Gradually, she stilled, and her vice grip on my ears eased. I sat up, rubbing them and she winced and smiled. "Sorry, lover." She touched my hand. "You should be proud, I haven't come like that since before Peter was killed." She was far, far away for a moment, then her eyes came back to me and she drew me up to kiss me. "Thank you," she said gently.

"Thankyou," I replied, "for teaching me." I paused for a moment, uncertain how to continue.

She smiled. "Will that technique work on other girls, that's what you want to ask, isn't it?" she asked slyly.

A little embarrassed, I nodded. "Yeah, I guess that is what I was going to ask."

"It will, I'm sure, but aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?" I asked, puzzled.

"We had just fucked and I was all warmed up and ready to go. Your kiss of love may have to be performed on a girl who you have warmed up some other way. Come here, lie beside me. Let's talk about it."

I crawled up beside her and she kissed me, then pushed me down so that she could lay her head on my shoulder. "You're out with a girl, you know she likes you, you think you might be able to make out. What do you do?"

"Kiss her?"

"That's a given. What else?"

"Compliment her?"

"On what?"

"I don't know. I guess every girl has something that's really nice about her." I glanced at her. She winked at me and smiled.

"True. Always look for something to be complimentary about. Every girl I know likes a compliment. Anything else?"

"I guess I need to touch her, don't I?"

"Yes, you need to touch her, but where? How? When?" She turned her head a little and kissed my cheek. "Come on, Jim, you're intelligent, answer me."

I thought for a moment. "Everywhere she'll let me, I guess."

"Yes. Good answer. But how do you find out?"

"I suppose I find out by trial and error, by starting somewhere I know she'll let me touch her, say her ears, or her neck; her arms, maybe her hip. And I kiss her and keep kissing her between compliments."

"Don't overdo it, Jim, most girls can sense insincerity. What else?"

"If I've kissed her and she likes it, and I've touched her everywhere safe and she likes it, I guess I move on to dangerous territory." I glanced across at Catherine and she was smiling gently. She nodded.

"Go on."

I wriggled about a little until I had my left arm around her neck and she was lying back on it. My right rested on her left hip. I leaned forwards and kissed her softly and I let my right hand move up gently until it was just below her breast. I kissed her again and let my hand move until it was just cupping her breast. I broke the kiss and left my hand where it was. She smiled at me, taking my hand and moving it up a little until my thumb could reach her nipple.

"If she does that, Jim, you know you're okay!" she said with a twinkle in her eye. "What about elsewhere?"

"Hold on," I said. "I've just reached first base, I have to consolidate my position. Don't forget, she's fully clothed and my hand is outside her clothes. I have to try inside."

"What if she lets you cup her breast through her shirt, but refuses to let you open the shirt?"

"I make the most of the moment and try to make the experience enjoyable, make sure I kiss her and compliment her a lot and make damn' sure we have another date when I take her home." I grinned at her, my hand idly playing over her breast, my thumb playing with her nipple. She leaned into my kiss and we forgot about theory and enjoyed each other and the moment.

Her left hand was playing with my prick now and I could feel myself beginning to thicken and stiffen. The kiss deepened, our tongues duelling and when she finally broke it with a gasp, my pole was hard and hot.

She grinned at me. "Damn theory for the moment,” she said, “let’s get back to the practical." She wriggled out from my encircling arm and came up on her knees beside me. "Lie back and enjoy, Jim, I'm driving."

With that, she swung her leg over me so that she was astride my legs, sitting across them so that my prick was just in front of her. She bent and kissed it lightly, then enveloped the head in her mouth, letting her tongue swirl around the head, before letting it slip gently out with a last kiss on the head. She came up on her knees and shuffled forward until she was over me, then guided me into herself with her fingertips, settling gently so that the head of my prick was just inside her pussy. She grinned down at me.

"Feel good?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am," I said fervently, savouring the hot and gentle grip of her pussy on the head of my prick.

She began to move, letting herself sink a little onto my prick, then raising herself so that I almost left her, sinking back a little deeper each time, until her ass was hitting my thighs each time she came down. Her pace was slow and steady, her eyes half-closed. I raised my hands to her breasts, cupping them lightly, letting my thumbs play with her nipples. Her eyes flickered open and she smiled dreamily at me.

"I love the feel of your prick in my pussy," she murmured.

She was wet, so beautifully, sensually wet, and my prick was squishing in her juices. Inspired, I remembered her injunction to only lick alongside her clitoris because she was so sensitive and let two fingers of my left hand run lightly down beside her clit.

"Oh! Aah, yes, Jim," she whispered, "but gently, gently," and her pace quickened almost imperceptibly.

I could feel myself coming slowly to the boil, sensations building in the head of my prick as it slithered in her liquid heat, a tightness building in me. My free hand was still playing with her nipples, alternating between her breasts.

Her pussy was beginning to squeeze my prick, a thrilling tightness along its length as she rose and fell. I was getting closer and closer; I needed to tell her, but she was ahead of me.

"Oh, Jim," she breathed, "gently, lover, but stroke my clit and make me come!"

Easily, fearfully, I let the two fingers stroking beside her clit come together, so that as she moved they brushed the head peeping out from its sheath. She hissed in a gasp that became a moan as she rose and gasped, "Oh, fuck! Yes!" as she sank down on me, then she came, an explosion of sensation, her belly rippling, her pussy muscles clamping down on my prick, her head thrown back in ecstasy.

The exploding sensations from her pulsing grip took me, too, over the edge and I gasped as I came, thrusting into her, a blast of ecstasy that was followed immediately by another detonation, then another, gradually lessening, easing, my vision returning as she collapsed bonelessly across me, her head on my shoulder, her face buried in my neck, gasping wordlessly as equilibrium slowly returned, as breathing slowly became possible again.

Eventually she raised her head. "All right, sweetheart?" she asked, her breathing still not normal.

"Yes," I replied, "very much all right." I drew in a deep breath and let it out again slowly. "Very, very much all right. That was wonderful, Catherine, so very, very wonderful."

"Mmm," she said, "It was." She sat up again, my half-hard prick still in her pussy, and smiled at me. "I think it's time for Cinderfella to be going home."

My disappointment must have showed, because she bent and kissed me swiftly, lightly. "You must, Jim, I'm sorry." She glanced at the clock. "Nearly three in the morning. I'd like a little sleep before breakfast. No, by myself," she said as I opened my mouth to speak. She kissed me again. "Come on, share my shower, then you must go. Cheryl has to leave too, to go back whence she came. My sub-conscious really, but Nebraska if anyone asks."

I laughed, resigned, but happy. "When can I come again?" I asked.

"As soon as you're hard," she replied with a chuckle, "although, seriously, Saturday, tomorrow - today! - as we still need to work on your English. I think you'll get the mark you need, but let's be sure."

I grinned up at her. " 'Gerund, noun formed from a verb' ," I quoted. "As in 'fucking', a recreational and procreative activity, from the verb, 'to fuck'."

She giggled. "I hope you're not usingthat as an example in your answers."

"It wouldn't be wrong," I said.

"It wouldn't be wise, either. Come on, shower!"

That was fun, because she let me wash her thoroughly, soaping her pussy and her ass and her breasts, and in her turn she made sure my prick was extra super clean, even to the extent of teasing me to an erection so that she could be sure of not missing any part of it.

Eventually, we dried ourselves and I dressed, reluctantly. She grabbed a robe and wrapped it around herself. To my surprise, she donned her 'Cheryl' wig.

"I'm coming to the door, to kiss you goodnight. If anyone sees us, it has to be Cheryl they see, not Catherine." She grinned. "Catherine's fast asleep. She trusts her cousin not to do anything untoward!"

Our kiss was long, gentle, almost loving. She leaned her head on my shoulder for a moment and then looked up at me, smiling sadly.

"Cheryl is leaving, Jim, you do understand, don't you?" Her look was pleading.

I nodded, reluctantly. "Yes, I do." I kissed her again, gently. "Catherine the schoolteacher is ten years older than me and must maintain her reputation." I smiled suddenly.

"What?" she asked.

"Best Prom I'm ever going to," I said. I stepped down off the porch. In a normal voice, in case there were any insomniacs around, I said, "Goodnight, Cheryl, thank you for a lovely evening. Tell Catherine I'll see her this afternoon."

"Thankyou for a wonderful time, Jim. I'll tell Catherine. Goodnight."

I sketched a salute and took my way off home. I looked back before I turned the corner. She was still standing on the porch. I waved, she waved back and I turned the corner over on a page of my life.

* * * * * * *

That was the end of our little episode. A magical moment in time which I sometimes have difficulty believing. Thanks to Catherine's tutoring, I got the 'A' I needed for my scholarship, and here I am now, waiting to start my first semester in University.

It's funny how things turn out. On my way home after leaving her I was passing Alison's house and she was sitting on the porch. She spotted me and called out, getting up and running over to me as I hesitated. She was biting her lip and had difficulty meeting my eye, but she managed.

"Jim," she said, "I'm sorry, I was wrong. I've been stupid. I was wrong to blame you, wrong for taking my grounding out on you. I thought you might come this way and I waited, so I could tell you I was sorry." She grimaced, trying to smile and not succeeding. "I know it's all over between us, but I had to tell you."

I studied her for a moment. "Thank you, Alison," I said gently. "That took some courage." I studied her for a moment, then smiled. "A very wise woman told me something tonight which I am going to try hard not to forget."

"What?" said Alison.

"History sometimes gets rewritten," I said, and turned to go. And you know what? Historydid get rewritten. But that, as they say, is another story.

A Date for the Prom, Story (c) Alex de Kok, 2002.

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