Accidents

I wanted her on top so she would feel comfortable and in control. I knew she wanted this, and had said she wanted everything, but I was worried that she would get scared, that I would go too fast.

It also meant that I had total access to her back, and could massage her and run my hands through her hair, and reach down to press against her bottom, pushing her against my erection. I could also bring my hand around the side of her, caressing her breasts, thumbing her nipples to hardness, and she could lean forward over me, bringing them to my mouth.

They were beautiful, pert and firm, quite large for a girl still in her teens, with compact aereolae and small short tips. They had that fresh and soft smell and the delicate taste that I adore, and when I took them in my mouth, and rasped them with my tongue, she arched her back and growled and purred, and pressed her crotch down against me, and I knew this girl was more than just turned on. She was revelling in the sensation. She was exploring and learning and pushing, and taking pleasure. Not just willing, but eager.

I took my time with each breast, varying my actions, licking, kissing, sucking, nuzzling, using hands and mouth to squeeze and caress every part of them. And I touched her elsewhere while my mouth was focussed on her bosom. I brushed her face, let a finger enter her mouth as I sucked her nipple and she sucked back. My other hand tingled her spine all the way into the top of her jeans then back up and down the length of her bare arm, grabbing her hand and interlacing our fingers. My hands roamed, rubbing her earlobes and her thighs, brushing across her breasts and stomach, her hair and her smooth skin.

She in turn caressed me, and more and more frequently ground her body against mine. Suddenly she slid backwards, kissing my mouth again, and forcing herself against the hard bulge in my trousers. Her hips went into a fast rocking motion for a few moments, and her breathing went sharp and shallow. I thought she would come, but in an unexpected burst of frenzy she flung herself off me and lay on the bed, hands over her face, panting and sobbing.

I was surprised, again, and unsure what to do.

Despite the unexpected shock of her witdrawal, and the stab of fear that this was the end of our lovemaking, that she would scream and fight and drive me away, never to return, I had to take a moment to admire her naked torso again. Quite possibly the finest pair of breasts I had ever seen. Certainly the best I'd sucked on for at least a decade. I felt a momentary stab of guilt at the thought, mixed with fear that I would never get to see them again, and I reached out to stroke her hair and whispered soft words of comfort.

"Oh god, Sean, oh god, oh I'm sorry, oh, what am I doing?" she sobbed

She had gone limp, not poised for flight, just overcome by sadness.

I took her in my arms and shushed her and told her it was alright, and rocked her gently and she calmed down and uncovered her face, and clung to me. I held her and rocked her and thought that I should give her tee shirt back to her, and reached for it, but as I brought it up to give it to her she pushed back a little and looked at it and said "What are you doing?"

"I thought you might want to get dressed."

Katie looked at the shirt in my hand and then back at me, and reached out to grab me by the back of my neck. She kissed me fiercely again, and then suddenly meltingly softly. "No Sean, I don't want to get dressed. I want to be undressed. Help me."

She stood up beside the bed and undid her belt, and pulled her heels from her shoes. I was unsure. This maelstrom of emotion left me uncertain what to do. At any moment she could flip again and scream rape. At any moment this could turn from consensual to abusive. I might be damaging her mentally for life. I wasn't even sure that what I had already done was not harmful.

But I desired her. As she stood semi naked, auburn hair tumbling round her perfect breasts, slim and lithe and sweet smelling, and lovely in every way, I wanted so much to make love with her, to take her in my arms, to possesses her body and soul. I wanted to make her cry out in pleasure. To hear and feel her come. That idea struck me, overwhelmed me, drove me. I reached to help her pull her jeans down.

Katie was in a hurry to strip now, decision made, she took the plunge and pushed her knickers along with her jeans down to her knees.

I saw her perfect thighs and above them the triangle of red curls, her beautiful bush, demanding my touch, my fingers, my mouth, my cock. I sighed in wonder, and she caught her breath and said "Are you okay? Is it alright? I mean, does it look alright? I'm sorry, I didn't shave it. I know it's too hairy, but ..."

"Perfect, Kate, perfect. Beautiful. Breathtaking." I said, and tore my glance away to look at her face. "I mean it. You are simply perfect. Never shave it. Never listen to those stupid people. Hair is sexy. It shows you are grown up, not a little girl. A woman. A beautiful, sexy, sexual woman."

I stood up, to kiss her, and said "So beautiful, my god Kate, you have no idea."

For a moment we kissed, her almost naked body pressed against my half clad one, my hands on her bottom and the back of her neck, hers on my back, her lips soft against mine again. Her eyes closed, and I felt her body soften, loosen, relax into an eager poise.

I knelt at her feet then, running my hands down from her face over her shoulders, down the length of her arms to her hips and over her naked thighs to the tops of her jeans. I eased one leg off, and then the other, and peeled her socks off as well, leaving her naked. "This is a body worthy of worship, Kate. You have the most perfect breasts, this beautiful stomach, these toned legs, even your feet are pretty, and your hands with those slim fingers. And then there is this."

I planted a soft kiss on her bush, pressing hard enough to touch the springy mound of flesh beneath. "An ancient poet once said that a woman's vulva should be mounted on the head of a lion so that only the bravest would be worthy of approaching it. I never agreed before, but now, my glorious goddess, it is true, I am not worthy to worship so wonderful a body, so perfect a pussy."

I kissed her then, gently, my tongue extending to tease the top of her slit, trying to taste her, to press her clitoris, to penetrate her folds. I pressed my face against her, my nose parting her curls, pushing into her mons. My hands were round onto her perfect bottom, pulling her sex to my mouth.

She gasped, put her hands on my head, surprised and uncertain, but I gave her no time to think. She fell back on the bed and I used the momentum to lift her legs and open them, and to take possession of her with my mouth. I tongued her, a long firm stroke down her lips and back up, opening her, tasting her arousal, penetrating her. When my tongue-tip hit her clitoris she almost leapt in the air and shrieked.

I was relentless. I wanted to devour her. I knew this was all new to her, she had never been touched there by another person, never licked out, fingered or opened, but it wasn't my first time, and I used every trick I had learned to make this the most thorough and exciting first encounter for her. I wanted her to come. I made her come.

She lay on the bed with her legs apart, and often placed a hand on my head, and she sighed and whimpered and gasped as I explored her and caressed her. She was hesitant at first, unsure and embarrassed, but that passed in moments as I found the hooded clitoris within her amber down, and in five seconds she lost any reservations. Gradually I opened her up, outer labia thick and firm covered in a light down of red hair, inner lips pink and smooth, wet with my saliva and a hint of her own moisture, and then gently pulling them apart to see the entrance to her core, the dark rose centre of her delicate folded flower.

No sign of a hymen. I had seen a virgin girl or two before and knew what one looked like, but I knew that tampons, masturbation and genetics could all account for the lack of that troublesome flap of skin. It was a relief not to have to worry about it, and to find that it was easy enough to dip my tongue-tip inside her depths, and then to follow it with a finger. She moaned. "Oh Sean, oh, is that your finger?"

"Yes, Kate, is it okay?"

"Oh yes. Don't worry, I can fit two in me, you won't hurt me."

I thought that one was tight enough, but I gently worked on it, slowly stretching her opening a little to each side as I slid my finger in and out. She groaned again. I put my thumb on her clit as I probed deeply, and she pushed herself against me, grunting, her rhythm speeding up, and her body suddenly tensed. She was looking at me, staring at me, mouth slightly open, drifting in an out of focus, flexing her spine and hips, arms going rigid as she gripped the duvet beneath her with convulsed fingers. I slid another finger into her tight but slippery pussy and urged her on "You're close now darling, aren't you? Come on Kate, come for me, come on."

A mewling wail, rising in pitch, broken by a gasp and then turning into a series of cries, told me that the crisis was on her. She flailed about and her hands dug into my hair as I sucked and hummed against her clit while my fingers inside felt her contract and pulse. I was flooded with joy and triumph, and that was emphasised when suddenly she dragged me by the hair to kiss her again.

Her arms went round my neck, her thighs clamped around my hand as I still had two fingers inside her, and her lips sought mine. I gripped her hard, and she stayed still for a second before bursting into a storm of kisses and hugs and the words tumbled out of her, incoherent thanks and half finished sentences, random noises and laughter and sobs. In the end she threw her head back and sucked in a great deep breath, and said "Oh God, that was good! Oh That was better than anything, Oh Sean, that was... oh god. Oh. Pheww." then she looked at me and grinned and and took another breath and said "Can we do that again?"

I laughed and kissed her and moved my fingers slightly in her pussy, half an inch out and back in again, and growled "If you want to," against her neck as I grazed it with my teeth and closed my lips to suck on her soft flesh. Her body responded as I had thought it would, combined tension and lustful spasm, and she was soon back in a rhythm of hip thrusts and snatched kisses, and crying out to god and me. Her hands this time were on my chest, gripping me and sometimes digging in her nails, and her eyes lost focus again. I speeded up the massage of her pussy, my thumb now inside her, fingers spread over her entire mound and the spread out lips and exposed clitoris. I was sucking her nipple and looking at her eyes, timing my thrusts and sucks with her breathing, and driving her again to the brink. Her second orgasm was as large as the first, and this time she held her breath and turned almost purple as I plundered her body for every sensation.

She ran out of breath, and collapsed, whimpering. She was helpless now, vulnerable, beautiful. I could have simply dropped my trousers and taken her then as she lay half conscious on the bed, pussy wide and wet and so inviting, breasts glistening with a sudden slick of sweat, hair tousled round her head and plastered to her face. I thought of it for a second or two, looking at her body on the bed beneath me as I sat up, knowing this vision of beauty was mine to take. I almost did it, but I had decided that I wanted more. If I took her now I would probably make her come again and come inside her, and it would no doubt be a hell of a ride, but it would be short and wild. Fun, yes, but not perhaps loving. And that would not be good enough.

I wanted her first time to be a moment of love, for her to give it the significance it deserved. She shouldn't be taken, no matter that she would enjoy that. She should give herself to me. I was confident that she would. She would ask me for my my cock in her. She would kiss it first and hold it, make it hard, and guide it to her, bring me into her, feel every sensation, revel in it consciously and learn to adore it. She would make love, not just get fucked.

So I scooped her up and slid her around and moved the crumpled duvet away, and climbed into the bed and covered us, cuddling her softly, her head under my chin as she lay half on top of me, my arms round her, one leg between mine the other close to me, her breasts and pussy in contact with my body. She relaxed as I stroked her back and whispered about her beauty, and she said "Thank you Sean" as she drifted near to sleep.

Her breathing deepened and became regular. Sleep took her as she lay on my chest, and I stared at the ceiling. A thousand thoughts assailed me. I was not her guardian, but I was in a position of financial power and trust. I didn't want anyone to think I had exploited that. I was old enough to be her father. Okay, I was ten years younger than her father, but still, it made no difference. I didn't know if I loved her, if she loved me (except that I knew I did, and that she did, but not like lovers, except now we are lovers, so...) but I knew that I was, and had been, powerfully attracted to her, protective of her, jealous at the thought of a boyfriend, desirous of her, to have her naked, to see her just as I had seen her. I had dreamed of her lying with me like this, naked curled around me. Although in my dreams I was naked too, not wearing jeans and socks and shoes.

What would she think when she woke? Would she be shocked? Ashamed? Would it all be awkward and horrible? How could we go back to being the way we were? I had been a fatherly, avuncular figure, she had been my daughter/niece. Now...

Okay, what if she decided we should date, be a couple, and all that entailed. Did I want that? (Okay, did I want to sleep with her, have sex with her, go all the way and do it again and again? Yes, of course. But be her boyfriend?) She was to go to University. I had a job. How would that work? How could I fit in with a crowd of her contemporary student friends? How for that matter could I keep up? Okay, I'm reasonably fit, reasonably healthy, not overweight, but not nineteen any more. When I passed thirty I started getting dreadful hangovers, and at forty I practically stopped drinking because the pain was not worth the pleasure. I don't dance, I don't run or play sports, and while I can pull an all nighter I can't do it two in a row, so all weekend partying (those were the days!) is out. I couldn't live that life. And how would she fit into the life I had – I still socialised with her parents friends and contemporaries.

But what if she came to and came to her senses? What if she looked at me now and thought about what we had done and she saw me as the dirty old man I thought I was. I took advantage of an innocent eighteen year old girl, in emotional distress, stripped her and used her, and okay, didn't fuck her, but ...

What would Bill have said? (Cricket bat to the head? Or glass of scotch and a quiet talk?) Jackie. What would Jackie say? (jealous, maybe, which is sort of thrilling, but even if she understood me, and understood Katie, and she could be so wise, would she approve?) Was it just wishful thinking for me to imagine that they might have thought I was worthy of their daughter's love? Of her virginity?

Oh hell, what have I done?

She stirred, and I decided to help her wake. I squeezed her shoulder and rocked her a little, and said "Kate. You okay Kate?"

She stirred again, and her limp body drew up tone and tension, and then she stretched and hugged me. In a sleepy voice she said "Uh-huh. Fine."

I breathed again.

She threw the cover back and raised her head, sweeping the hair back from her face. She half focussed, and gave a lazy, lovely smile. "Hi."

"Hi." I replied. "You fell asleep."

"Hmmn, yeah. Sorry," she said, still half awake.

"No, don't apologise, it was lovely. Its a long time since someone fell asleep in my arms. I liked it."

She propped her head up, coming awake. "I liked it too." her eyes glittered as she looked at me properly. "I liked all of it. How about you?"

I smiled "What about me?"

She looked serious suddenly, almost scared. "Did you, did you like it? Was it okay?"

I had to hold her, cuddle her, kiss her forehead and smile and sigh and say "Oh Kate, it was wonderful. Not just Okay, it was lovely. You are lovely. Thank you."

She had tears in her eyes again and she moved up the bed and touched my face "Are you sure? I mean, I just realised, you, I mean we didn't really. I mean, you were awfully nice to me, but, you... I didn't..."

I hugged her again, "Don't be silly Kate. That was lovely. I had a very good time. It was, I can't explain, it was a privilege and a great pleasure. You are beautiful girl, Kate, and I enjoyed every moment."

I kissed her lips then, a soft, short kiss, and then looked in her eyes as I said "Thank you for letting me make love to you. It was truly wonderful."

She blushed. She looked down, and then up, and then said "Thank you," and kissed me again. "Thank you for making love with me Sean." She kissed me again "But you don't get away that easily." She kissed me again, lips a little softer and more open. "I want more than this Sean." Her kiss this time was longer, and she sucked a little at my lip. "I, I've seen pictures, you know. I've seen videos, on the web. I know what to do. I know what you want to do." She kissed me again, a tiny kiss, and drew back enough to look at me with passionate eyes. "I, I want that too, Sean, I want to do it all."

Her hand snaked down across my stomach as she said that, and straight into my trousers, into my pants, onto my semi-hard cock. She took it in her hand and hesitantly held it, and looked at me in that moment of still, shocked silence.

My cock swelled, I breathed out. "Oh, Kate, you, you, oh, god."

I pulled her face to me with both hands, and kissed her long and well. My hips knew their own mind, and moved my cock in her hand, and she took up the movement. She was wanking me in her soft little hand, and her tongue was in my mouth.

I was powerless to resist, had no thought of even trying. It was bliss, it was heaven, it was pleasure without limit. I think I may have been the one to start undoing my belt, but she was definitely the one who pulled my trousers down to my thighs, and my underpants. Once free of the constriction of my clothes my cock and balls were open to her caress, all still beneath the cover of the duvet, while she kissed me and I gasped and jerked and sighed. Then she sat up, taking the duvet with her, exposing my nakedness at the same time as letting me see her perfect form. She looked down at me, at the hard cock in her hand, and slowly moved my foreskin up and down, covering and exposing my glans that glistened with the sticky result of her ministrations.

Katie cooed. "Oooh. It's, well, it's pretty. And wet. I didn't think it would be wet."

I said "Thank you. The wet stuff is because you have got me very turned on. It is like girls get wet, but with boys there is usually not as much. But you got me turned on a lot, for a long time."

"Oh." she smiled. "That's good then. Oh, you still have your shoes on!"

"Sorry, I was a bit distracted when I was getting in here with you."

She laughed, and let go of my cock, and slipped out of the bed and round to my feet, and started to undo the laces. "Here, let's get rid of these. And the socks, and here, lift your legs, that's it," she said as she pulled on the ends of my jeans and drew them off me. Then she reached for my pants, and pulled them down, off my feet, leaving me naked and lying full length on her bed for the first time. She bit her lower lip and raised an eyebrow.