A Fine Spring Day

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Her boyfriend wasn't at home when she called.
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Ashson
Ashson
8,505 Followers

It was a fine spring day and I was feeling good. Better than good; I was in a fantastic mood. The weather was warm, I'd caught up with all my housekeeping jobs, and I was free as a bird for the rest of the day. Nothing I had to do for myself and no extra tasks tossed to me by either parent. Free as a bird and this bird was flying off.

I would, I decided, go around to my boyfriend's place. He wasn't exactly expecting me but I had said that I'd drop around if I got a chance. I dressed with care, considering the warm weather and what might happen once I was alone with Chas.

Oh, don't get me wrong. I wasn't going around there in anticipation of getting laid. Certainly not. Chas and I haven't reached that stage in our relationship yet and we might never reach it. That didn't mean we couldn't have a little fun together.

I had on a halter criss-cross crop top that tied at the back. No bra. I could get away without one because my breasts had yet to yield to gravity's influence, being high and firm and, I'll admit it, slightly bouncy when I wore that top. It was low enough at the hem to cover my breasts (just) but, when tied a little loosely there was an interesting gap down there, one a hand could slide up. (Not that I'd encourage Chas to slide his hand up under my top but boys will be boys. If he did try I'd just have to slap him down a little. Maybe.)

To go with the top I had on a pair of shorts. The shorts only had a single button at the waist and they were tight enough to draw attention to my hips and bottom. They were also tight enough so they wouldn't slip down if that button came undone. As a matter of fact they were tight enough that even with the button undone I'd have a hard job removing them. I was fairly confident that Chas wouldn't be able to. (I'm not saying that he'd try but you never knew.)

So, OK, it might sound as though I had an intention to get laid but I really didn't. Still, I was eighteen and feeling good and if a little petting should happen to occur I thought I would be able to handle it.

Yeah, I can hear what you're thinking but you're wrong. I wouldn't be alone with Chas where he could take unfair advantage of me. His father, Bram, and his sister would be home as well. A slightly raised voice and one of them would come running. Probably his sister, as Megan is such a snoop.

I drove around to Chas's place. The front door was open so I just banged on it and called out.

"Come in if you're good looking," yelled a voice.

That had to be Bram. It's just the sort of thing he would say. I didn't even get to step inside before Bram stuck his head out a nearby room and looked to see who was there.

"Oh, yes, Patty, you can definitely come in. They don't come much better looking."

Yep. That was Bram, laying it on with a trowel. I walked in and headed into the room that he had vanished back into.

"Hi, Bram," I said. "Chas around?"

"Mm?" he said, looking at me thoughtfully. He spun a finger, presumably wanting me to turn around. I heard him say, "Pity," as I rotated.

"Um, Chas?" I asked, "And what's a pity?"

"Your top is done up with a knot," he said, "and no, Chas isn't here right now."

"Ah, what's wrong with a knot and where is Chas?"

"For a start, Chas has been dragooned by his sister to take her and some friends to the beach. My understanding was that Megan invited you along but you couldn't make it. The problem with a knot is that it won't come undone if you give it a quick tug."

"Someone must have forgotten to pass the invite on," I said, feeling irritated. I could guess just who that might have been, too. Bitch.

It finally filtered through to me that we were having two conversations here. Why was my top the subject of one of them?

"Not coming undone is the whole purpose of a knot," I pointed out. I'm rather attached to my top and I'd hate to see it come adrift by accident. And why are we discussing my top anyway."

"There would be nothing accidental about it, let me tell you," Bram said with a smile. "Fortunately it doesn't require the knot to be untied. I might add I'm not interested in your top."

Now I have to admit that with the crop top and the low shorts I had a respectable amount of midriff showing. I was fine with that. On me it looked good. The point I'm trying to make here is that it's look good, not feel good. That's what other people are supposed to do where my tummy is concerned. Look. Not touch.

Bram put his hands on my tummy and just moved them up. They slid up and under the loose hem and onto my breasts, to my scandalized amazement. I was even more scandalized and amazed, no, shocked, when he flexed his hands and I found the top was loose enough to be able to slide up his hands and off my breasts. Just like that my top was rucked up above my breasts and Bram's hands were doing the work of a bra. I knew I should have tied the damn thing just a little tighter.

So there I was. The only reason I wasn't flashing my breasts at Bram was because his hands were covering them. Sort of. His hands kept moving around them, rubbing them and teasing them. I'd keep seeing flashes of white against the deep tan of his hands, hands which felt rather hard and rough.

"Do you mind?" I asked rather acerbically.

"No. Not really," he said in a happy voice. "You really have very lovely breasts."

"Thank you, I think," I replied. "Ah, the point is that they're mine. Not yours. If you'd be so kind as to remove your hands?"

"Mm, no. Not yet," he said.

While I was standing there with my mouth opening and closing while I tried to say something but totally failed to come up with any words to properly express my outrage, he moved over to the couch, taking me with him. Then he finally removed his hands from my breasts.

I was appalled to find that my nipples were standing out and my breasts felt heavy. I was prepared to swear that they were somewhat swollen. Before I could drag my top down over them the situation changed.

Bram sat down on the couch and pulled me down onto his knee. Then he bent his head down and he was kissing my breasts. Not content with just touching them he was now kissing them. And doing other things, as well. I could feel a gentle suction when his lips closed over a nipple, his tongue and teeth teasing it.

I managed to push his head away and he straightened up, still keeping me on his lap. I now knew what was meant when heaving breasts were mentioned, because mine were doing it right then. I was breathing somewhat harder and my breasts were moving in tine to my breathing, seeming to swell up when I inhaled. Bram, naturally enough, was watching my heaving breasts.

It was obvious that I was going to have to lay down the law. There was just no way I could permit Bram to touch me like this. I mean, I wouldn't even let Chas do this (I don't think) let alone his father.

"Bram, you really can't do this sort of thing," I said firmly, reaching for my top to pull it back into position. Unfortunately I failed in this attempt because Bram's hands were back on my breasts.

"Bram," I exploded. "If you don't mind?"

"I don't," he calmly told me. "If I minded I wouldn't be doing it, now would I? You have very nice breasts and they deserve having a man pay his respects to them. Don't worry. You can't get pregnant by a man touching your breasts."

That's all he knew. Girls know better. That's why I'm on the pill.

"That's irrelevant," I pointed out. "The point is you shouldn't be touching me at all."

"Why not? You plainly like it," he said, lightly touching a nipple to prove his point.

"Still irrelevant," I grumbled. "You just can't go around grabbing girls like this."

"Well I know that," he told me, "but I'm not grabbing girls. Just one girl. You. Stop worrying about it and enjoy the attention. I'm not going to go too far and a little bit of petting can be fun."

That was too close to my own thoughts for comfort, but I'd been considering Chas in the position of he who pets, not his father. That did sort of change things.

"It's a matter of principle," I said, speaking loftily and trying to grab the moral high ground.

"Maybe, but matters of principle only matter if you have principles. Right now, I don't."

He demonstrated his lack of principles by dropping a hand to my shorts and flicking open the button that theoretically held them up. Good luck with that, I thought snarkily, knowing that my shorts weren't coming down without a determined effort being applied, which I had no intention of permitting.

Fortunately (for me, I guess) he didn't even try to pull my shorts down or to even slip his hand inside them. Unfortunately he did start stoking me through the shorts. Not that he could do much as I was holding my legs together in a suitably modest manner. (OK. Nearly together, and you can't say I wasn't trying to do the right thing.)

I, quite naturally, as I'm sure you understand, was trying to push his hands away from my, ah, more sensitive areas. This seemed to irritate Bram slightly, to the point where he grabbed my hand and moved it aside.

"Here," he said. "If you have to hold something, hold this."

Oh, gosh, could you believe he pushed my hand against the fly of his trousers and I could feel just what he was suggesting that I hold. He had to be kidding. I could feel it bulging up against his trousers and it seemed to me that it was a bit much for me to handle.

"I suggest you move it out from where it is," he told me. "It's rather confined at the moment and it needs a bit of freedom before I do myself an injury."

That was a pathetic attempt at getting me to drag his cock out into the light. Do himself an injury? Come on. Even Chas hadn't tried that line on me. Oh, wait, he did, but it didn't work. It wouldn't have worked for Bram either but I had to admit that I was just a teeny bit curious. Was that thing really as large as it felt? And his fly was unzipped so all I'd have to do would be to nudge it slightly so it popped out.

So I nudged and it popped out and it looked enormous. Quite frankly I was just too embarrassed to even look at it. That meant I had to cover it with my hand. It was the only reasonable course of action. That meant that Bram was able to continue touching me fairly intimately, what with my hands being otherwise occupied.

I was quite relieved when Bram suddenly swung me back onto my feet. I was breathing quite hard and feeling all hot and flushed. I almost sniggered when he reached for my shorts. Good luck with that, I thought.

He didn't need luck. He just took hold of my shorts by taking hold of the bottom of the legs. He gave them a sharp tug and the shorts popped over my hips and bottom and went sailing down my legs like no-one's business. I didn't believe it. I couldn't take them off that fast.

Bram seemed both amused and puzzled by the shock I showed.

"What?" he asked, as though he hadn't just pulled my shorts down.

"You took my shorts off. How'd you do that? They're too tight to come off easily."

He blinked in surprise.

"You didn't know that it's simpler to just tug shorts down from the bottom? It means the material doesn't fold over on itself and they just come down all at once."

No, I didn't know that. Why hadn't someone told me that? I'd been confidently thinking they were on nice and tight and now they weren't on at all. I decided to ignore that had go on the attack.

"That's irrelevant," I snapped. "You had no right to pull them down at all."

"Maybe, maybe not, but they had to come down."

"Why?"

"So I can do this."

With that he took hold of my panties, not that they were covering much, and pulled them down as well, leaving me exposed to the world. Or exposed to him anyway.

That accomplished he pulled me back down onto his lap while my mouth was opening and closing with no words coming out.

I of course made sure that my legs were well and truly pressed together as I was in a somewhat vulnerable position. This had the effect of pressing his hand very firmly against my mound, said hand having slipped between my legs before I could bring them together. So what did I do now? Leave his hand jammed against me or move my legs apart so he could withdraw his hand, which I knew he wouldn't. I opted for parting my legs slightly and hoping for the best. Like that's what I got.

As soon as his hand had a bit of freedom it was moving, not away, but massaging me, fingers trespassing inside me now. Why not? I didn't have any clothes on to stop him.

If I'd been hot and bothered before I was now so much more. His fingers were doing terrible things to me. My eyes were wide with shock and I couldn't think of any way to stop him touching me. I was just staring at the opposite wall, a nervous wreck. I could feel his erection pressing against my side and I didn't even have the nerve to push it away.

Did you know that if a man strokes you too close to your clitoris it does amazing things to you? He stroked, I screamed, and he laughed and did it again.

"Enough," I finally managed to yell. "Why are you doing this?"

"You really don't know?" he asked, and I mutely shook my head.

"Let me show you," he said, speaking really softly.

At the same time he was tilting me backwards and I very quickly found myself flat on my back on the couch with him kneeling between my legs, his cock just hovering above me.

I came to the conclusion that I was a total idiot. All the signs had been there and I had blindly added one and one together to get a grand total of one. I should, perhaps, have received a hand-written letter spelling out his intentions?

"But, but, but," I blathered.

"Mmm?" he said, indicating that more was required.

I'll say more was required. His cock was now lightly resting on my pussy, pressing gently against the cleft, right where my inner labia seemed to have become outer labia, pursed and swollen.

"I'm a virgin," I quickly explained.

"Well, yes, I thought you would be," he said, "but don't worry. Virginity is not a life sentence and I know how to alleviate that particular problem."

Maybe so, but so did I, and that didn't mean I wanted him to supply the cure.

"Yes, but," I managed to get out when he interrupted.

"I thought that as a virgin you would be best, ah, served, shall we say, by being naked and in a position to see exactly what happens."

"I'm not naked," I quickly pointed out, plucking at where my top was bunched up around my neck.

He gave me a pitying look.

"Oh, I think we can ignore that for the moment," he murmured. "You've also still got your shoes on, but do they really matter?"

I guess not as it wasn't my feet he was interested in.

"Now why don't you just watch as I make a little bit of room here and then fill it up?"

Suiting actions to his words he moved my lips a bit further apart and let the head of his cock fill the space created, locking it in position by releasing my lips to have them close around him. I was now treated to the edifying sight of his cock starting to descend into me.

I was appalled. This couldn't be happening. He pressed a little harder and I both saw and felt his cock moving within me. It must certainly was happening. What on earth was I supposed to do now?

The answer turned out to be give a little scream as I felt something give way inside me and his cock pushed even deeper.

"There you are," he said triumphantly. "Devirginized, and totally painless."

"For you, maybe," I protested. "I certainly felt that."

"Felt it, yes, but it was just shock that made you squeak, not pain. And now you can just relax and let the rest of it happen."

I had not squeaked. I had screamed. And it had been a scream of pain. Everyone knows that it hurts the first time. I refused to believe that it wasn't pain that I'd felt. He'd hurt me, I just knew it.

Not that having brutally and painfully ripped my virginity from me was stopping him from continuing. His cock just kept sinking into me. There was no way that was going to fit without hurting me but did he care? Not so that I could notice. He just kept pushing and pushing and I found myself with more cock inside me and then still more. It wasn't until he gave that one last push and he was fully inside me that I was able to relax, knowing that I could manage it.

I looked at him and he was smiling at me and I blushed something ferocious, realising what it must have looked like for me to have been so concentrated on watching his cock as it entered me. Really, it was just because I was worried, not because I was interested in seeing it happen.

He just lay there, leaning on me, his cock all the way up inside me, his hands casually playing with my breasts. I lay there waiting to see what happened next. It wouldn't do me any good to complain because he'd already stuck his cock in me and I couldn't undo that, now could I? He played with my breasts, teasing and rubbing them, while all the time I could feel his cock inside me. I mean, how could I not feel it? It was enormous. Any time I tried to think of something to say or do my thought processes came down to one word - cock. That thing had a way of really concentrating my attention on it.

I don't know how a man's mind works. One moment he was lying there, apparently just enjoying the feel of being inside me, and then he was moving. He started sliding his cock back and forth along my passage and oh wow, that was something else entirely.

My hips started to move in time to his movements, pushing to meet him as he thrust into me, the strangest sensations rippling through me with every thrust. He kept getting faster, and I kept getting hotter, with him seeming to be fanning the flames.

He finally settled down to a fairly even pace, bouncing hard against me, his cock actively plunging deep into me with every bounce. I was just panting and pushing against him and going ah, ah, ah, as he went his merry way.

I lost track of time. All I knew was that his cock was running wild and stirring me up, heating me up, and making a total mess of my nerves. I couldn't have asked him to stop if I'd wanted to, and I'm sure I must have wanted to because he shouldn't have been doing this to me, but oh, it felt so sweet.

Being somewhat inexperienced at things like this I couldn't really be expected to pick up on all the nuances of what was happening. I suppose I might have noticed when he picked up the pace but I didn't know what if signified. All I knew was what it was doing to me and that was definitely enough to hold my full attention.

Suddenly having an orgasm came as a complete surprise to me. My climax just hammered through me and I screamed in shock. (Now that was a scream of shock which proved that the earlier scream was most certainly one of pain, so there, Mr Knowitall.)

I just collapsed onto the couch, feeling as though my whole body had melted, while Bram seemed to just collapse onto me, pinning me down.

After a while Bram rolled off me and sat up, looking down at me with a smile. I just looked back at him in a daze, not sure how what had happened had come about. Had I just been raped? I didn't think so, because, while reluctant, I had sort of permitted it, hadn't I. I just didn't know why the hell I had permitted it. There was only one possible answer.

"You tricked me," I stated.

"I did?" he asked, acting as though it was a surprise to him. "Um, exactly how did I trick you?"

"Well, I don't know, do I?" I pointed out. "If I'd known I'd have known you were tricking me and then you couldn't have tricked me."

"Um, right," he said, sounding slightly confused. I don't know why he was confused. It all seemed straightforward to me. He tricked me and we both knew it.

"Well, trickery aside," he said, hauling me up onto my feet, "you probably feel as though you need a shower. Come along and we'll make sure you have a good one."

Ashson
Ashson
8,505 Followers
12