Hillary: The Summer of '92 Ch. 06

Story Info
Hillary & Ben enjoy an evening at home.
3.5k words
4.72
49.3k
1
0

Part 7 of the 10 part series

Updated 08/30/2017
Created 08/03/2002
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
D.C. Roi
D.C. Roi
1,332 Followers

From Benjamin Dornier's Journal

Monday, July 19, 1992

I was getting way too used to waking up with Hillary in my bed, and I knew it could lead to serious problems, but as I've said before, she was like a drug I couldn't give up. I turned on my side and looked at her face, relaxed in sleep. She was so lovely, and looked so innocent. Feelings of guilt about what I was doing swept over me. What was wrong with me? I was risking my marriage, my career, and Hillary's emotional well-being, but I couldn't stop seeing her.

As I laid there looking at her, Hillary yawned and stretched. Watching a woman stretch is one of my favorite activities and my young lover did it about as wonderfully as anyone I'd ever seen. After she finished stretching, she rolled on her side, facing me, and smiled. "Good morning," she said. "God, waking up in bed with you is so awesome!"

I couldn't help but smile. "Yes," I agreed. "You're right. Awesome is exactly the right word for it."

She leaned forward, our lips joined, and we shared a passionate kiss. "Thank you for making this the best summer of my life," Hillary said.

"You're welcome," I told her. "But I think I should be thanking you. You've made my summer pretty wonderful, too." That got me a bright smile, another kiss, and the fantastic sensation of having her warm young body pressed against mine. And that, of course, caused me to have a very noticeable physical reaction.

Hillary giggled. "I guess we aren't the only ones who are 'up' this morning," she chuckled.

"Ah...I guess not," I said.

She wrapped her hand around my erection and began sliding it up and down. "You want to do something about this?" she asked.

"Ah...yeah...I guess I should," I replied.

Hillary giggled. "Yeah, you better. Wouldn't look good for you to go to school with this, would it?" She gave my erection a squeeze. "OK," she said. She let go of my erection and pushed me over onto my back. Then she threw the covers off, got up on her knees, and slid one leg over me, so she was sitting on top of my middle, with my erection trapped between us.

"I think I can help you with that problem, don't you?" she teased.

"Ah...yeah...sure," I gasped. I'm not sure I'd have called what she was doing right then helping. My erection felt as if it was getting harder, not softer.

She lifted her hips, reached down between us, and placed the tip of my penis between her labia, which felt soaking wet. Apparently I wasn't the only one who'd awakened ready for sex. Then she began lowering herself slowly. She tried to keep the look of lust from forming on her face, but couldn't quite do it. She also couldn't stop the sigh that escaped from her as my erection slid up into her. She leaned forward, put her hands on my shoulders, and began rocking her hips. "Does that feel good?" she asked.

"You know it does," I replied. I lifted my hands, cupped her breasts, rotated my hands a bit, and felt her nipples erecting against my palms. "Does that feel good?" I asked.

Her features had softened into even more of the look of need. She nodded. "Ah...yeah...it...um...it sure does," she murmured. She kept rocking her hips and my erection kept sliding in and out of her. I knew my need to come was growing rapidly and, judging from the fact that Hillary was moving her hips faster and faster, and making grunting and gasping noises, she wasn't any farther away from coming than I was.

"Come for me, baby," I said. "Let go. Come for me." I moved my hands so I could take her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers and began twisting them gently.

"Oh...oh, God!" Hillary gasped. Her movements became frantic and jerky and the grip she had on my shoulders got tighter. "Unnnnhhhhh!!! Ohhhhhhhhh!!!! Ohhhhhhhhhhh!!! Ohhhhhhhhhhh!!!!" she wailed.

That was all it took for me. Groaning, I exploded into her.

Once her orgasm ended, Hillary collapsed and laid on top of me. "God! That was so awesome!" she murmured. "Making love with you is always awesome."

I slid my arms around her and gave her a hug. "It certainly is," I replied. That was the problem, at least part of it. Having someone as lovely as she was available and wanting to make love with me was pretty damn heady stuff.

We finally dragged ourselves out of bed and into the bathroom to take a shower. For once, that didn't result in our making love. It appeared there were limits to my ability to perform after all. Once we'd finished in the shower, we had breakfast, then we headed off to face our day.

Hillary's changed attitude in class was even more obvious. She'd clearly read the assignment and was an even more active participant in class discussion than she'd been before. Not only that, she managed to draw the male students in the class farther into the discussion than they'd ever been involved before. I have to admit I was impressed. She was so far from the same sullen, angry girl she'd been when the summer class began that it was difficult to believe she was the same person.

"Good job in class today," I told her as she walked out of the room after class ended.

She blushed a little and said, "Thanks."

I spent the afternoon in the middle school, getting my office organized and having meetings with various members of the staff and faculty. I wanted them to know me and I wanted to get to know them. I was looking forward to the new year and my new job.

I finally headed home about four-thirty. As I drove, I found myself eagerly anticipating having the chance to see my young lover again. "This is wrong and you know it," a voice inside me said. "You know this is wrong. Why do you keep doing it?" "Because I can't stop myself," I said in my empty car. I'm pretty sure having an argument with yourself as you're driving down the road is a sign of some sort of mental illness, and that's exactly what I was doing. My debate with myself ended, however, when I pulled into my driveway and found Hillary's car sitting in the spot where she usually parked behind my house.

My heart was pounding a little and my insides were churning as I parked my car, got out, and started walking toward the house. Wrong what I was doing might be, but it was extremely heady, too. And there was no way I was going to be able to stop. No way.

The minute I walked into the house, I could smell something cooking. It was a familiar smell, a good one. Hillary walked out of the kitchen wearing a smile and a form-fitting red knit dress, not the same outfit she'd worn to school.

"Wow!" I said as I laid my coat and briefcase on a chair.

Hillary giggled. "You like my dress?" she asked. She turned around so I could see all of it. After she did that, she walked over to where I was standing, put her arms around my waist, and pressed herself against me.

"Actually, I was talking about how good it smells in here," I teased. "What are you making for dinner?"

"Yeah, sure you were talking about food," my teenage lover replied. "I could see the look in your eyes when you looked at me." She kissed me on the cheek and squeezed me a little. "And we're having meatloaf," she added. "I found the recipe and thought I'd see if I could make it as good as you do."

I slid my arms around her waist and hugged her back, then I kissed her soundly. "You're right. I love that dress," I admitted. "But I do love the cooking smells, too."

The dress looked fantastic on her. It was the kind of dress she should have been wearing on a date, not to spend clandestine time with a married older lover. Again I was filled with a mixture of guilt, desire, and elation.

Hillary looked up at me with puzzlement in her eyes. "What's the matter?" she asked. "You look sad."

"It's just that you should be wearing that dress for someone who's taking you out to dinner," I said. "Someone who can take you out to dinner and who has a right to see you looking as pretty as you do."

She hugged me and kissed me gently. I could see tears welling up in her eyes. "Stop talking like that," she said. "I'm here because I want to be. And I'm wearing this dress for you because I want to. I don't want to be anywhere else and I don't want to be with anyone else."

"OK," I said, surrendering. "How soon will dinner be ready?" I'd no sooner gotten the question out of my mouth than a beeping sound came from the kitchen.

Hillary giggled. "I think it's ready now," she said. "Or as soon as we can get the table set."

We set the table, then Hillary got the food out. We sat down, I took some meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and corn. Hillary was sitting across the table, looking at me carefully. She hadn't taken any food. "You going to eat?" I asked her.

"Try the meatloaf, tell me what you think," she said, looking a bit worried.

"OK," I said. I cut off a piece of meatloaf with my fork, then put it in my mouth, chewed it, and swallowed. It tasted even better than it did when I made it, but I purposely kept my face from showing any sign of what I was thinking.

Hillary kept looking at me anxiously. "Well?" she said. "Is it OK?"

I kept a straight face. "Compared to mine," I said, then I paused.

"Compared to yours, what?" Hillary asked. I heard a trace of doubt in her voice.

"Well, compared to this," I continued, "mine tastes like cardboard."

That comment got me the biggest, brightest smile I'd yet seen on Hillary's pretty face, plus a hug so fierce I was afraid she'd cut off my breathing.

"You really like it?" she asked when she finally released me.

I nodded. "I thought I made this as good as it could be made, but you proved me wrong," I admitted. "The gravy is really good, too. This is a great meal."

"You aren't just saying that, are you?" Hillary asked.

"No, I'm not," I told her. "I'm saying it because it's true. Now are you going to eat, or are you going to sit there and watch me eat?"

"I'll eat," she said. She put some food on her plate, then tried the meatloaf. "Hey, it really is good," she exclaimed.

"See, I told you, so," I said.

"Oh shut up," Hillary giggled.

We talked about school while we ate our dinner, then we cleared the table. While Hillary put the leftover food away, I put the dishes in the dishwasher.

"Now what?" Hillary asked when we were done.

"I have some paperwork I need to finish," I said.

"I suppose I should do my assigned reading," she said, grinning. "My teacher is really strict about that."

"It's for your own good," I said.

"Yeah, that's what he always says, too," she chuckled.

Hillary went into the living room and curled up on the sofa to read the latest book I'd assigned while I went into my den and worked on some paperwork I needed to get done as part of my new job. "This is getting way too domestic," I thought as I sat at my desk in my den, filling out the sheaf of forms I needed to get done. Every job has paperwork, but it seems there's way more in the field of education than in just about any other area.

I was just about finished when Hillary walked into my den. "You almost done?" she asked.

"Actually, I am," I replied. I turned my desk light off, stood up, and turned to Hillary. "You know, I need to apologize," I said. "You got dressed up for me and I've been ignoring you."

She walked over and put her arms around me. "That's OK," she said, "You had stuff to do. And I did have that reading to do anyhow."

"You really are special," I told her. I bent and kissed her. "What would you like to do now?" I asked after the kiss ended.

She shrugged. "I dunno," she said.

I had an idea and I have no idea where it came from. "Do you like to dance?" I asked.

Hillary looked surprised. "Ah...sure...um...yeah, why?"

"Would you like to dance with me?"

"Yeah, sure. Where?"

It was my turn to laugh. "I think it would probably be better if we did it in the living room where the stereo is," I said.

"Yeah, OK," Hillary said.

We went to the living room, found some CD's we both liked, and put them in the multi-disc CD changer. When the music started we moved into each other's arms and started to dance. Hillary was a marvelous dancer, it turned out. She pressed that wonderful body of hers against mine as we moved to the music and it almost seemed we'd melded into each other and become one person. I could feel her muscles moving under my hands.

She had her head nestled against my neck. "This is really neat," she said softly. "I'm glad you thought about doing it."

It was nice. Way too nice. I was enjoying it far too much. Especially since it had been ages since I'd danced with my wife. The pressure of Hillary's body against mine quickly banished any guilty thoughts from my mind and we kept on dancing. My body, as it always did, was responding to contact with hers. She tilted her face up and our lips joined in a soft, gentle, yet sensual kiss and we continued dancing. I'm not sure whether we were keeping time with the music or with music inside us and it didn't really matter.

While we kissed and danced, Hillary slid her hands to my butt and tugged on it, pressing us even tighter against each other. "Feels like you really like to dance with me," she murmured when we broke our kiss to take a breath.

I slid my hands down to her bottom and squeezed gently. "You better believe I do," I told her. "Did I tell you that dress is gorgeous?"

"Yes, you did," she replied.

"Did I also mention that you're gorgeous?"

"Ah...no, you didn't."

"Well, you are."

"You wanna go to bed?" she murmured, twisting her middle against my now-rigid penis.

"I...um...I think that would be an excellent idea," I replied.

We made our way to the bedroom, stopping to kiss and hug each other a number of times on the way. When we finally arrived, a bit out of breath, but both pretty darn turned on, we stood there looking at each other.

"There's a small problem with that dress," I said. My voice croaked a little.

"What's that?" Hillary asked.

"No...um...zipper or anything."

"No problem," she said. She reached down, grasped the hem of the dress, and pulled it up over her head and off, leaving her standing in front of me wearing a white silk bra and matching panties.

I think I was staring, probably gaping, at her because she blushed. The difference between her underwear and my wife's struck me. What Hillary had on was a lot sexier than anything my wife owned.

As I continued to stare at her, she reached behind her back, opened the bra clasp, and let the flimsy garment slide down her arms. I don't think she intended it to be a seductive action, but I'd never seen anything more seductive. With the bra off, she bent and slid her panties down. Her nipples were hard and her breasts moved wonderfully as she performed a simple, unthinking action she performed every night, but one I found incredibly arousing.

When she straightened up after taking her panties off, she gave me a puzzled look. "Aren't you going to get undressed?" she asked.

"Ah...yeah...I...I am going to...um...do that," I muttered. I started fumbling with the buttons on my shirt.

Hillary, naked and looking good enough to eat, giggled and walked toward me. God, parts of her moved so incredibly well! "Let me help you," she said. "What's wrong with you tonight?"

"Ah...I...I'm not...um...sure," I croaked in reply.

She got my shirt open, then she helped me slide it off. Next she undid my pants, which slid down around my ankles on their own. Gravity can be a great help sometimes.

"You want to take your own underwear off, or am I going to have to help you with that, too?" Hillary asked, her eyes bright.

I had somewhat gotten over the befuddlement watching her undress had caused me. "I think I can handle it," I said, and did while she climbed into "our" bed.

With my clothes finally off, sporting as good an erection as I'd ever had, I slid into bed next to my pretty teenage lover. She snuggled against me and gave me a kiss. "I want to spoon for a while," she said. "I love lying next to you like that." She turned her back to me and pressed back against me. My erection nudged against her bottom, then aided by the lubricant oozing from the tip, it slid between them and down, between her legs. "Oh! It feels so neat having you like that!" she purred, wriggling her bottom a little.

I started trailing my fingers lightly down over her arms and onto her legs, then back up again and felt her shudder.

"Oh, God!" she murmured. "I love how you do that. How can you keep your touch so light?"

"It's easy," I said. Up and down, up and down I moved my fingers, slowly moving from the back side of her arms and legs toward the front. She began squirming which, of course, was making me feel at least as good as I seemed to be making her feel. Since both of us were enjoying what was happening, I kept on. My trailing fingers slowly moved from her arms, to her shoulders, then across her chest and onto the sides of her breasts. There was a noticeable change in her breathing, the movement of her hips became more insistent, and soft sounds, like husky gasps, kept coming from her.

I caressed the side of her breast, then her belly, then the underside of both of her breasts, then her belly again, spending a little time running my fingers around her navel. Then it was back up, to the underside of her breast, then up between them. By now she was panting and her hips were rocking back and forth. With my erection snuggled between her legs and bottom, it was pretty darn close to actually making love. As she rocked, I could feel the tip of my erection getting wetter and wetter from the lubricating fluids both of us were producing. I could actually feel the tip of my erection rubbing against her labia and realized all I had to do was change my position a little bit. I managed to do what I needed to do to get in the right position.

I trailed my fingertips up over her breast and onto her nipple, which felt hard as a rock, as hard as my penis felt. The minute my fingers made contact with her nipple, I could feel a strong tremor run through her and she moaned. "Oh, God! Ohhhhhhh!"

I'm not exactly how it happened, but somehow the tip of my erect penis wound up inside her. I shifted my hips forward and most of the rest of my erection slid easily into her snug opening.

"Please, Ben, please!" she begged, reaching back, grabbing my hips, and pulling on them. "Oh, God, Ben, I need you so bad! Take me! Please! Oh, please, Ben! Take meeeee!"

I lunged against her, driving myself into her as deeply as I could. I wrapped my hand around one of her breasts and clutched it as I continued to plunge into her. I heard myself grunting as I shoved against her and heard her answering moans. The feelings rushing over me were absolutely incredible, so incredible I was pretty sure I wasn't going to be able to hold back my orgasm much longer.

Then ecstasy exploded through me like a hurricane. "Oh, Hillary!" I groaned when I felt my fluids racing up through me and gushing into Hillary. "Oh, yesssss, yessssssss!!!"

"Yes! Oh, God, Ben, yes!" Hillary moaned, her body bucking against mine. "Take meeeeee! Yesssss! Ohhhhhhhhhh!!! Ohhhhhhhhhhhh!! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"

We stayed in the "spoon" position even after our orgasms ended. "Oh, God!" Hillary groaned. "That was so awesome! I thought I was going to come when you touched my nipple."

"I did, too," I said, and kissed her on the neck and shoulder. "How about we go to sleep. I'm bushed."

"Me, too," she said.

I slid my arm around her and she laid her hand atop it, then we fell asleep.

D.C. Roi
D.C. Roi
1,332 Followers
Please rate this story
The author would appreciate your feedback.
Share this Story

READ MORE OF THIS SERIES

Similar Stories

Local MILF Belongs to Bully (Rewrite) A bully gets more than just a mom's piece of mind...in Mature
Anything You Want A married man and woman find they like to watch each other.in Loving Wives
Mickie and Laurie Pt. 02 The narrator undergoes further training.in Transgender & Crossdressers
Cuckold Dilemma Ch. 01 Carefully organising the first time fuck buddy is crucial.in Loving Wives
The Wedding Guests Girlfriend goes to wedding with her boyfriend's best friend.in Erotic Couplings
More Stories