Cumming in the Family

A free man after the end of an intense and restrictive two year relationship with a psychopath he'd met through a dating agency, Scott was now pursuing meaningless sexual encounters -- because now he could. He still hadn't learnt. His main hunting grounds were the dating websites.

Scott had met Bridgett online. His profile on the site stated in no uncertain terms his intentions and although Bridgett had insisted on a lengthy preamble to their 'real-life' meeting and issued warnings to the effect that there were no guarantees in life and that she reserved the right to change her mind at any time, she had nonetheless assured him that she only wanted of him what he was prepared to give.

During their long phone conversations in the first few weeks of their meeting online, Scott had more than once brought himself off to the sound of her sweet young voice, hinting at but never actually saying what she was looking forward to doing to him.

Bridgett's directions had brought Scott to the secluded village of Saraton without a hitch and the flawlessness of the journey gave him a confident feeling about the evening to come.

He checked into his bed and breakfast and decided he would rest for a while in his room. He found the imaginatively named Sarah's, as Bridgett had told him he would, next to the gas station at the crossroads in the village centre opposite the Maria and Mary pub (apparently not to be confused with Mary and Maria's Bar & Grill at the other end of the street). This place had a distinctly female feel and it kind of turned him on.

Despite his fears, Sarah's was an unexpectedly modern and luxurious establishment which had been extensively and tastefully refurbished. A pretty red-haired, green eyed local girl 'manned' the reception desk. Her name-badge introduced her as 'Michelle' and she asked for Scott's name and looked for his reservation in a large book that lay open on the desk -- nothing like technology, thought Scott.

As Michelle looked at the book, Scott looked over Michelle (he hoped discretely). He guessed she was about eighteen -- but he could never really tell. Her face was pale and exquisitely delicately freckled. She wore a dark blue denim skirt and a light pink midriff top that opened wide at the front to reveal her black bra and creamy cleavage. Scott's eyes strained to see down her top as she leaned over the book, her red hair cascading over her shoulder and spilling on to the desk around her. He could see that her bra was lacy and sparse, barely covering her milk-white breasts.

He felt a familiar stirring below his belt as his eyes lingered the tops of Michelle's firm young tits and when she turned from the desk to get his room key off the wrack where it hung along with a number of others, his eyes went to where her top ended, and lingered on her shapely midsection and the red G-string that peeped over the top of her skirt.

Scott couldn't see an ounce of fat on her curvaceous hips and he delightedly pictured the contents of skirt and G-string as he saw the arousing curves of her buttocks briefly outlined in the denim. Her legs were bare and flawlessly smooth. She wore a pair of nondescript sandals and their simplicity complimented the gorgeous silky white exposed flesh that disappeared up into her skirt a tantalisingly short distance before the nubile pubic mound and its alluring covering of soft red curls that no man who set eyes on this teenage delight could fail to picture.

Michelle evidently missed the more intense of Scott's lingering visual appraisal and flirted gratuitously with him as she handed him his keys and gave him instructions on arriving 'home' after the front door was closed and when breakfast was served. He wondered what time she knocked off work on the bed and breakfast reception and whether she had anything to do at that point - you should always have a backup plan.

He also wondered if she was a virgin.

With tension in his trousers and lurid fantasies in his head, Scott headed to his room and after the most cursory of inspections fell on to the bed and sent a text message to Bridgett. Arrived safe and sound, See you at the M&M (I know...not 2 b confused with M&M's! J) at 8. x.

A short while later, the reply came, Cool, glad u made it safe and sound, see you tonight! Cunt wait. X x.

Cunt wait? He thought, his cock hardening as he lay on the bed. Cunt wait? What kind of a typo was that? What kind of a girl was this?! He had a feeling it would be a good night.

He dozed for an hour or two and left for the pub just before eight.

He was first to the bar that evening and he was cheerfully served a pint by another pretty red-headed barmaid who could have easily been Michelle's elder sister. Dressed in a similar short denim skirt and sandals to Michelle, the barmaid displayed her gorgeous midriff and ample cleavage in a low-cut black top, similar in design to the pink one Michelle had been wearing though it was skimpier and exposed more of her midsection.

Attracted by the girl's revealing clothing and accommodating smile -- you could never have enough contingency plans - Scott considered keeping her company while he waited for Bridgett to appear. At the last minute he decided against it, worried it might affect his chances with Bridgett herself.

He retreated with his pint to a table in a corner next to the window -- rejecting a table in the corner near the back of the bar as it appeared too dark to him and he felt it might give the impression he was some kind of creepy pervert.

He didn't have long to wait before Bridgett showed up -- a few minutes earlier than their agreed meeting time -- and when he set eyes on her, he was glad he'd not taken the risk with the bar girl.

He saw her before she saw him and watched her as she walked to the bar, bought a glass of red wine then looked around. She spotted him observing her and smiled shyly in greeting. She wore an elegant pair of black shoes only slightly raised at the heels -- Scott was glad, he didn't fancy heels the way other men seemed to -- and her legs were bare, pale and as flawlessly smooth as Michelle's and the bar girl's.

About her waist was a tiny black skirt around the top of which she war a thin black belt decorated with small silver studs. Her breasts were barely concealed by minute highly-revealing black midriff top-come-bra that narrowed in the small of her back and was held together there by a short zipper. The front of the top narrowed slightly in the middle to expose some of her cleavage and no bra straps were visible over her bare shoulders.

Bridgett's skin was silky white and unblemished, in keeping with the village theme, thought Scott. Her hair was jet black and cut simply but stylishly shoulder-length. She looked younger and in all ways better than the photographs she'd sent him.

She appeared not to be wearing any lipstick yet her lips were an alluring youthful pink and her cheeks pale with the faintest tinge of rosy red. Her body was perfectly proportioned, her hips widening beautifully and her bottom clearly outlined under the tightly stretched fabric of her skirt.

It made Scott hard just watching her move as she approached him across the floor. Here was a true sex goddess. Everything about her suggested sexual allure and erotic lust. Finally laying eyes on her after weeks of phone-calls and emails, he guessed she must be about eighteen -- but he could never really tell.

As she neared his table, he rose to greet her. She put a hand on his shoulder and kissed him on the cheek -- sensuously. The evening was off to a good start.

After the moderate pain of greetings, they sat at the table with their drinks and Scott began, "Good day?".

"OK," she replied. "I was almost late, we had a crowd of customers turn up in the shop, just when I was about to close up for the day." Then she added blushing a little, "Oh, I'm sorry, you found the place alright and everything? So rude of me not to ask!"

"It's fine," said Scott reassuringly. "It was all down to the good directions," he added with a smile.

Bridgett rewarded him with a shy smile and another faint modest blush. The two made idle conversation as time passed and drinks emptied and refilled. They picked up more or less where they had left off in their phone conversations.

As the pub filled up and the light left the sky outside, Bridgett briefly went quiet and seemed to be miles away. Scott didn't mind, he just sat and sipped his drink and looked into her face which over the course of the evening had drawn closer and closer to his.

Finally Bridgett seemed to return to the present and she said, "I have to tell you something."

He shrugged, inviting her to continue.

"I'm a virgin," she said simply.

He couldn't believe it, she seemed so mature and worldly. Scott said as much then he added playfully, "I know how we could prove it."

Bridgett smiled wickedly, flashing perfect white teeth and a saucy lashing pink tongue. She asked, "Really? And how's that then?"

He was almost stuck for words but managed delicately, "Well, when a woman loses her virginity, isn't something er damaged?"

"You mean is my hymen broken?" she asked smiling gently as his embarrassment.

"Well, yeah," he said nodding.

"All boys think that," she said. "But it isn't necessarily true, I mean it often is but not always. As a matter of fact, my hymen was broken when I was eighteen and one of my girlfriends and I were messing about one night when we were drunk in her father's barn."

It was Scott's turn to drift off as he contemplated the image of two teenaged girls exploring each others newly-matured womanhood. He imagined the newly grown soft pubic hair over the pink pubic mounds. He imagined the giggle of the two drunken girls as they touched each others' recently grown pussy-hair, exploring it and what lay beneath it. Pictures came to his mind of their breasts, just swollen into gorgeous new maturity and the pink nipples like ripe cherries ready to be sucked for the first time.

He snapped back to reality at the sound of Bridgett's voice, her face now even closer to his, her eyes wide and mischievous, peering into his.

"Does what I just said make you horny Scott?" she was speaking in a low voice.

He could see she knew damn well what was going on in his trousers without having to check.

"Does the thought of my friend and I turn you on?"

Honesty was the best policy. He nodded eagerly, "Yes."

She asked him, "Do you want to hear more?"

Again, he nodded eagerly.

"You see, there's a shortage of boys here," she said, "if you want anything other than a meat-head with ambitions of owning his fathers farm someday anyway.

"Puberty started for Laura and I about the time it does for everyone I guess. People are conservative around here so we only had each other to help come to terms with it.

"Anyhow, it wasn't that many years after puberty that we discovered masturbation -- as one does -- and it wasn't long before we were doing it together. On the night it happened, we'd sneaked cider from her father's cellar and we sat in the barn drinking it and talking about sex, celebrities and boys as one does at that age. After a bit, like we always did, we started getting horny and Laura moistened her fingers with spit, pulled up her dress, pulled her panties aside and went to work with her hand between her legs.

"As I watched her eyes glaze over when she was getting close, I suddenly wanted to touch her -- I guess I was kind of curious -- We'd wanked with each other like this loads of times before but I s'pose the cider sort of let us go that one step further. I just remember the sight of her pink wet cunt being so...well, so, you know, inviting. Before I even thought about what I was doing, my hand was exploring her pussy, touching her labia and stroking her inner thighs.

"She jumped when I first touched her but she was so drunk and so turned on, she didn't stop. She reached out her own hand and began pulling at my dress. I pulled my dress up took off my pants and suddenly, there we were, fingering each other and making each other wetter and wetter. We said nothing but just kept touching ourselves and each other and getting more and more turned on.

"Laura had started before me and even though I was getting close, I hadn't been going for long before she came. She moaned like neither of us had ever moaned before. Her eyes closed and her head turned from one side to the other. As she was cumming, her hand jerked on my pussy and suddenly, I felt a sharp pain and warm drips between my legs. Laura lay there panting from her orgasm as I looked down at my crotch and watched the blood run. I started crying and when Laura heard me she looked up. She followed my eyes down and gasped when she saw me bleeding.

"She said, 'Oh my god! Your hymen's broken!'

"After the initial shock, it was kind of a turn-on to have had my cunt sort of exposed that little bit more. We wanked together a few more times and sometimes, we would masturbate each other. Laura liked feeling my cunt with a broken hymen and it kind of turned me on to feel hers, still intact under my fingers. After that night though, it just never seemed as well..." She paused thoughtfully before continuing, "It just never seemed as horny. I think after Laura touched me for the first time, as horny a feeling as it was, I just knew that only a man could give me real fulfilment."

He had no idea what she meant but nodded his head understandingly anyway. He was hard as hell by now, his erection straining at the front of his trousers, a substantial pool of pre-ejaculatory fluid soaking into his underwear.

The blood having rushed to his groin during her tale of virginal girls' misadventure, he was at a loss for words so he asked, "Are you still friends?"

"Oh yes," she said happily. "We see each other all the time. Laura's the bar girl over there".

The images came thick and fast to Scott's mind and so almost did Scott into his underwear! Two beautiful girls, semi-naked, virginal and all but fucking each other.

She leaned even closer to him and said, "I want you to be my first fuck Scott." And with that, she touched her lips to his and he returned the kiss.

"Let's go," she said. "Everything has turned out better than I could have imagined. You are everything I hoped you'd be, come home with me and sleep with me".

"What did you hope I'd be?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

"What you are, now come on, let's go!" she insisted.

She got up from her chair and Scott followed, surprised at her demanding tone. As they left the pub hand in hand, Scott caught sight of Laura smiling at them from behind the bar as she watched them go.

To his surprise, Bridgett lead Scott back to Sarah's. Instead of taking him in through the front door however, she lead him around the side of the large old house to a more discrete entrance that he presumed provided access to a private part of the house. She lead him down a dim hallway lit only by a feeble light on the ceiling up the far end.

"Sorry it's a bit dark in here," she said. "One of the bulbs blew yesterday and noone's gotten around to buying a new one yet, typical!"

He wondered apprehensively who else lived here.

They arrived at a white door and here she stopped and turned to a cupboard on the opposite wall. Withdrawing two clean folded white towels, that looked as if they belonged in a hotel, Bridgett handed one to Scott and kept the other for herself.

"When you're done, come to the third door on the right," she said, then she opened the white door and nodded to him indicating he should go inside.

As she slowly pulled the door closed behind him, the last glimpse he caught was of her rounded shoulder, the swell of part of one of her breasts and again, that mischievous smile.

Scott found himself in a large bathroom covered from floor to ceiling in light coloured ceramic tiles. To his right was a lavatory under a large frosted glass window. He guessed the window overlooked the side of the house they'd come in from and he vaguely recalled them walking past it on their way to the door.

He wondered how close by the nearest neighbours were. Anyone looking through this window at night would be easily able to observe naked forms moving about in the bathroom. Scott imagined seeing Bridgett's petite frame, silhouetted in front of the light as she went about getting ready for bed in here each night. Would she touch herself in the shower? Would the slippery feel of soap on her cunt inspire her to masturbate?

In the corner to his left was a large shower cubicle constructed with two clear plastic walls held together by chrome joinery against the tiled corner walls of the bathroom and a hefty chrome fixture on the left hand wall. Everything in here pointed to a recent redecoration of considerable quality.

Scott appreciated quality and thought back with disdain at the numerous grubby bathrooms in cave-like London flats he'd recently showered in either preparing for a hasty coupling or trying to escape discretely in the dead of night after one, his most recent victim usually oblivious to his departure in her alcohol-induced slumber. Only a little alcohol had been consumed tonight by either of them. Tonight so far was full of class and erotic promise of a more sophisticated kind.

Scott hung the towel on an empty rail by the large clear shower cubicle and began to undress. If the girl wanted him clean, he had no issue with that and besides, to him, the preparation for what was to come added to the turn-on.

As he disrobed, he noticed a small clothes horse in the corner behind the door on the same side as the window. Hanging on the clothes horse was a collection of pink lacy bras and panties. It was almost as if she'd left them there for him to see. Scott couldn't resist. He took a pair of pink underwear from the top rung on the clothes-horse and held it up to the light.

As he spread the delicate piece of lingerie to get a better look at its shape, he noticed an elegant slit in the crotch of the garment between the larger openings for the legs. Crotchless panties! Whoever owned these had his kind of taste!

He hardened in excitement as he imagined the entrance to Bridgett's virginal sex fully exposed and accessible through the flimsy lingerie. His member grew heavy between his legs and his anticipation mounted. He slowly brushed the delicate undergarment over his hot shaft before replacing it on the clothes horse.

Under the powerful warm spray in the shower cubicle, Scott turned around making sure to wet every inch of his body. His penis remained partially erect as images of Bridgett in a nearby room preparing herself for the rest of their night together filled his mind.

He cradled his glans, purple and swollen, in his cupped hand covering the aperture at the top with this thumb and forefinger. He urinated into his hand and the hot yellow fluid trickled down his fingers and palm and the shaft of his cock to run off his balls on to the shower floor.

The stream of his urine grew narrower and stronger as his cock hardened in the erotic warmth of the urine running over his scrotum. He resisted the temptation to jerk off with some difficulty.

Using the liquid soap hanging on a rail under the shower fixture, he smoothed thick lather over his well-toned body. He rubbed at his trimmed dark pubic hair and covered his genitalia and shaven anal cleft with soap before rinsing them under the warm flowing water.

When he was done washing, he turned off the water, stepped on to the bath-mat and retrieved the towel from the rail. His erection diminished slightly as he concentrated on thoroughly rubbing himself dry with the towel but he knew it would be back when the time came and the need arose.

A moment of slight panic came when it was time to dress again. What should he do? Dress in the clothes he'd been wearing all day? Brazenly return to her side wearing a towel or perhaps even nothing at all? Reason took over quickly and he thought savagely, fuck it, I'm a free man and you only live once.