First Summer: Home Alone

Foreword

These stories are based in Australia and written in the idiom the characters would use.

Some issues in language variations I anticipated and built translations into my narrative. Others have caught me by surprise especially in their intensity. Generally, the intended meaning will be clear from the context if you don't cling too tightly to your usual usage.

Crutch/ Crotch has been a subject of much comment. Australians more commonly use 'crutch' and that meaning of the word is supported by the Macquarie Dictionary.

*****

Story

Until now, the nights we'd shared in my bed had been somewhat celibate. While nakedness and cuddles were very much part of the routine, the walls of the house were paper thin, the bed squeaky and the opportunities for sex in other places almost endless; so why risk a grand display for the rest of my family. But in the back of my mind, I'd been hoping for an opportunity to get the house to ourselves for a bit.

One night when Greg was sleeping over, it looked as though that chance might come. Mum was spending the night with our friends in the hinterland; planning to hit the country markets early the next morning. At the same time a big southerly had brought through some heavy swell and my dad and brothers had been talking about how well the point break was working and of their intention to go for an early surf in the morning. I didn't make a big point of it with Greg, but before going to bed I made sure the condoms and a towel were handy.

I woke shortly after dawn the next morning. Greg, still asleep beside me, was displaying his usual morning glory. When I heard the rain brought in by the Southerly beating against my window, my first thought was "great; we've had a whole summer of endless blue skies and the one and only morning I really want good weather to get my family out of the house, it's raining". Maybe that's a bit self-centred given the same Southerly that had brought the surf up was the one now bringing the rain, but I was worried the surfers might squib it and stay in bed. Then I realised what had woken me had been the sound of my family getting ready to leave for surfing.

As I heard the door close, I snuck out of the bed as quietly as I could. I wanted to make sure they'd all gone. Grabbing a beach towel to hide my nakedness if I was confronted by a brother, I searched the house to make sure no-one was home. Satisfied with that, I had a quick morning pee and brush of my teeth. Then after securing the latch on the front door to slow down the entry of any returning family member, I went back to my room where my sleeping lover still lay; his body already prepared for action even if he didn't know it was imminent.

After fully closing the curtains I grabbed a condom and crept on to the bed; straddling Greg while trying not to make contact with him and wake him up. Then as gently as I could I rolled the condom over his member. All this sneaky preparation had left me aroused in anticipation, so as soon as it was on, I bent Greg's member skyward and lifted myself up over it. It was this movement that finally woke Greg.

It took only a second for Greg's brain to register what was happening and even as he said "good morning, what are you up too?", his hands moved on to my hips to guide and encourage me. I vaguely recall answering him with something along the lines of "I'm taking your temperature cause you look pretty hot to me", although I don't really remember because by then I was too busy burying his shaft in my body.

To try something new, I sat upright on Greg cowgirl style. I was really keen to see if I could get my G spot working; even if the limit of my knowledge on the issue was what I'd read in Cleo. Leaning back over Greg's knees certainly produced a lot of pressure on my front wall, but as I pushed myself down to also bring my clit against Greg's pubis, I knew I had him in too deep to hit the right spot. So I lifted my knees a little bringing my whole body up off Greg and making the penetration much more shallow. Very quickly I started to feel some of the sensations I'd read about. I was glad I'd taken the time to have a pee while I was up.

Carrying my whole weight on my knees and back thrust arms while moving up and down was incredibly physical. Initially the noise I was contributing to the orchestra led by the squeaking of the bed was more of a grunting than anything else. Then as the pleasurable stimulation kicked in the grunt softened to more of a loud rapid moan; even more so when Greg realised my clit was lacking stimulation and started massaging it with his thumb. As the pressure built I found myself working his cock harder and faster against the wall of my tunnel and the combined noises made by me and the bed built to a rising crescendo. With his spare hand Greg was trying to reach up to a nipple, but it kept moving in and out of his reach as my body moved up and down. Even so, the brushing contact with each bounce simply added to the pleasure party my body was having.

As my orgasm broke it was heralded by a loud squealing; almost a scream as I pounded myself up and down the full length of Greg's shaft grinding out the successive waves of my orgasm as my body contracted repeatedly, seemingly almost violently around Greg's member. The violence of my pounding and the strength of the contractions around his member meant Greg came just a second later; adding his moans to the noises I'd made. Thank goodness no-one else was home!

I was left panting by the effort of it all, so it took me a moment before I could recover enough breath to give Greg a good morning kiss. As he pulled me back in tightly against his body he asked "do you intend to wake me like this very often?'

"Only as often as I wake up to find you already aroused!"

"But that's every morning you wake up first!"

"Lucky you!"

"Well I think we'd better get some oil for this bed if you're going to do that"

We lay there until Greg stated to shrink back out of me at which point he did his usual trick of reaching over the back of my thigh to pin the condom to him and make sure it came out with him. Holding up the sperm filled tube after he'd rolled it off him, he asked "any suggestions on what I should do with this to stop one of your brothers finding it?"

"Why don't you rinse it out in the bathroom and bring it back in here. I keep a rubbish bag for ladies stuff; they're never going to look in there. Anyway I'll get rid of it as soon as we get up"

As soon as Greg had got up and disappeared from the bedroom I put my next plan in to action. Getting out of the bed, I reached down for both the extra large reading pillows that decorated the bed when we'd first moved in. Since I didn't often read in bed, they had spent most of their time since sitting in a corner. Tossing them one on top of the other in to the centre of the bed, I then covered them with a beach towel and climbed on top.

When Greg came back in to the room, he found me spreadeagled on the bed; the pillows under my bum, my waxed and hairless crutch arched skywards, my feet and hands pointing out to the four corners of the bed and grinning at him like a Cheshire cat. He did something like one of those cartoon double takes before his own grin spread from ear to ear and a new erection started its own arch towards his navel.

"What; you want more?"

"No this is how I always sleep when you're not here"

Climbing up on to the bed at its foot he crawled up between my legs until he was kneeling between my thighs. He could see that I already had a new condom in my hands ready to roll it on to him. Using my hands to tease up his erection to its full engorgement I sheathed it and guided it towards my tunnel; making it clear I was ready for him.

Now it was Greg's turn to get physical. Lifting himself up on his hands with straight arms, Greg started thrusting. At first slow deep thrusts, then encouraged by my hands on his bum, they became faster and more powerful.

I'd never had much success in getting my clit stimulated while Greg was just on top; even though he tried all sorts of manoeuvres to try and make it happen. With my crutch lifted and angled like it was it was a whole new dynamic. With my legs spread wide and slightly bent I could respond to Greg thrusts; pushing myself against him and finding the stimulation I craved. I felt the power of his body; its strength exciting me.

As Greg started thrusting, he started grunting with the exertion, the bed started squeaking in time and, this time, the bedhead started up a regular bang, bang against the wall behind it with every one of Greg's powerful thrusts. There was an excitement - a highly sexualised display of masculine need - in every grunt. They became faster and louder.

As my arousal drove toward another orgasm, I joined in the chorus with short sharp moans every time one of Greg's thrusts rubbed against my clit.

Greg went off like a bomb. A deep loud cry of uncontrolled pleasure heralded a series of thrusts harder, more filling and deeper than ever before. Realising my time was limited, I pushed back for the contact that would take me over the top too, released any tension that was holding me back and started thrusting hard. Greg quickly flipped us over so I was on top, knowing that would give me the best chance to finish myself with his rapidly softening erection. With his bum now elevated on the pillows I raised myself up on my arms, continued my rapid thrusting movements before grinding our pubises together as I felt myself about to go over the edge of my climax; screaming out my own orgasm as I got there.

I collapsed down on Greg; the last shuddering contractions of my orgasm still passing through my body. I was knackered. I was drained of every last bit of energy. I lay there draped over him like a puddle of jelly while his breathing lifted me slowly up and eased me back down again; his hand gently stroking my hair. He stretched his hand around the back of my thigh to capture the condom while he eased himself out of me.

Silently we just lay there. Five minutes; ten minutes; our brains and bodies resting without being asleep, all the while Greg stroking my hair.

Then I felt a movement on my thigh; a stirring in his loins and a reaction from mine. I wasn't finished with him yet. My energy recovered, I sat back up on his thighs and surveyed the scene below me. The still sheathed penis was no longer flaccid. It wasn't actually erect, but it had a life in it that a flaccid one doesn't. I unrolled the old condom - the contact provoking a further enlargement. Stepping off the bed, I left the room to perform the washing and disposal process I'd suggested for the first one.

As I returned to the room Greg was lying on his back, a hand behind his head, watching me as I walked back in the room. "What are you looking at?" I asked.

"The most beautiful girl in the world"

"Prove it" I said as I straddled him and lay along his body, my elbows either side of his shoulders as I supported my head upright looking in his eyes. Almost immediately I could feel the better part of an erection pushing up between us.

"That's only a half proof"

"You're a very demanding woman" Greg said as he dug his fingers into my flank, tickling me. I squirmed about on top of him, his arms around me held me to his body as the tickling and squirming continued. But I didn't miss the fact that as my squirming brushed our pubises together; his erection grew - harder - longer - it forced it way up between our bodies.

"Proof enough?" he eventually asked as he stopped tickling me.

"I'll tell you in ten minutes"

What Greg did next caught me by surprise. Flipping me over on my back, he stood on the floor, dragged my feet around and lifted them up in the air, pulling my crutch towards him; the feet coming to rest on his shoulders and my crutch pushed hard against his erection. Reaching awkwardly over for the condom just within reach in the packet on the corner of the bed, he curved his body back to give him the access he needed to fit it.

Then holding my legs in to his shoulders with one hand, he pulled his bum back, used the other hand to reach down and hold his shaft out perpendicular to his body and brought it back in to my crutch. Moving it around with his fingers while he felt out the right spot, he found the opening to my tunnel and tested my readiness for him with a couple of light shallow thrusts. Satisfied, with a single continuous slow thrust, he inserted himself as deeply as he could go.

In this position I was helpless to control things or even contribute to the action. Like a corpse that had been dragged to the spot, my arms were still over my head where I had lazily let them go as he moved me in to position. I relaxed and let Greg take control; trusting him implicitly. The hand not holding my feet to his shoulders was now around my thighs - a thumb already reaching out for my clit.

Greg tested my reaction to some thrusts; slow deliberate thrusts pushing deeply in to me. Looking for either positive or negative feedback, he increased the tempo, moving his thumb firmly over my clit and pleasuring it. The moans his thumb elicited encouraged him. Staring directly at me watching my face for any sign of discomfort or disapproval his thrusts became harder, faster and needier. The power of his body and my helplessness excited me more.

Then far too early, the surfers could be heard pulling up outside. Greg heard it too, both our eyes moving in the direction of the still closed curtain. I gripped Greg tightly within me.

"Finish as quickly as you can". Greg hesitated - uncertain as to whether to just pull out or go for it. Deciding to go for it he thrust solidly - powerfully - against the grip I had on him. He was suppressing the noises he'd usually make but the rising pitch of his soft grunt communicated he was nearly there.

His climax was accompanied by three long deep thrusts before I could feel his legs wobbling under him. Pulling my legs apart and moving them back down to the floor, Greg lay down on top of me; the last vestiges of his climax still shuddering its way through his body and up in to mine.

There's no dignified way to finish sex quickly. No last minute cuddles. No softly spoken words. Each party has to go about their business of getting dressed and cleaning up. Fortunately the surfers took a while getting their boards out and hosing off their gear. That gave me time to rearrange myself and release the catch on the door before they tried it. By the time they came in we were casually eating breakfast.

I dreaded my father asking "what have you two been up to while we were surfing".

It wouldn't have been a loaded question, just a natural communication; but I wasn't sure either would have been able to answer it with a straight face. Fortunately Greg got in first.

"I was just about to cook us some eggs for breakfast. Do you guys fancy some too? How do you like them?"