tagMaturePerfectly Innocent

Perfectly Innocent

byparabolus©

Moira was just eighteen, and very much a virgin. She hated the thought of sex - she thought it was dirty, and although she'd gone out with boys a few times she'd immediately broken it off when they'd tried to kiss her.

The only man she loved was her father, and when her mother died she'd been deliriously happy looking after him. In the evenings she'd often sat on his lap and he'd cuddled her, stroking her hair and kissing her on the forehead. Sometimes his hand accidentally touched her breast, and she'd hugged him even tighter.

But then her father had re-married. Moira's step-mother was only a few years older than she was, and she hated the woman. She couldn't bear thinking about them in the bed they'd so often shared together, and the things she probably did with her father, and soon she moved out into lodgings, sharing a room with another girl, Sally. Now she worked in an office, and her only relaxation was playing the violin in an amateur orchestra.

It was there that she met Eric - he, too played the violin, and she took to him immediately. He was an accountant, and well over twenty years older than her - about her father's age, in fact, and in some ways rather like him, and they soon found they had lots of interests in common. He took her to a couple of concerts, and once to a film they both wanted to see, and it somehow seemed natural when they held hands in the cinema.

Then he suggested that they went for a walk in the park one Sunday afternoon, and go for tea later. Moira bought a new frock specially for the occasion - the hem came to well above her knees, showing off her superb legs and slender ankles, and for her it was daringly low-cut, affording more than just a glimpse of her magnificent breasts.

She always wore rather short skirts - it went back to her school days, when the skirt of her school uniform left at least two-thirds of her thighs exposed. She knew that her father admired her legs, and she liked him to look at them. Most of her friends changed out of their uniforms when they got home from school, but she usually left her short skirt on, so that her father could enjoy seeing her legs. She'd take off her school blouse and her bra, though, and put on a thin sweater - she liked it when her father glanced at her breasts moving freely beneath her sweater. Often when she sat on his lap he'd rest his warm hand on her bare thigh, and sometimes stroke it gently. She'd feel the lump in his trousers, but that was because he loved her, and she'd rubbed her bottom against it to show him she didn't mind.

She knew that she had a beautiful body, but refused to think about it, although she was aware that she often got admiring looks from men: she was tall, with dark shoulder-length hair, and thanks to dancing lessons since she was a child she moved gracefully. She didn't know why she'd selected this particular dress, but she knew that Eric wouldn't be cross - their relationship was purely platonic.

They met as arranged, and walked hand-in-hand for a while, but then it started to rain. Eric's flat wasn't far away, and he suggested that they go back there for tea, and perhaps continue their walk later when the rain stopped. It wasn't raining that heavily, and they started to run, and they were both laughing, out of breath, when they arrived at the flat.

Eric gave her towel to dry her hair, and a shirt of his to put on while her dress dried. While she was changing he prepared tea, and found a few stale cakes to go with it, and then they sat side by side on the sofa after he'd put on a classical record.

They drank their tea and listened to the music. Moira felt very happy and contented, sitting with him like this. The shirt left most of her thighs bare, and she liked it when she saw him glancing at her legs - it reminded her of the way her father had looked at her, and it was nice to think that she was pleasing him. Then the record ended - after he'd changed it he sat down again and put his arm round her shoulders. That was nice, too.

Then he tilted her face towards him with his free hand and kissed her on the lips. She hesitated for a moment, then eagerly pressed her lips against his, feeling her breath coming faster, and he took her hand.

He smiled and told her to let her lips relax, and open her mouth a little, and she did as he asked, and soon she felt his tongue probing against her teeth. Then suddenly it was in her mouth, and she'd never realized that kissing could be so pleasant. They kissed like that for several minutes, and then he felt his hand on her bare thigh. It reminded her of when she'd cuddled with her father, and she covered his hand with her own. It was so nice, being with him like this, and knowing there was nothing sexual about what they were doing.

Moira had foolishly arranged to go to the cinema that evening with Sally, her room-mate, and soon it was time for her to leave to catch her train. Eric stood watching as she took off his shirt, and she liked him seeing her in just her bra and panties. She deliberately fussed with her hair for a few moments, seeing him stare at her like that, before she put on her still-damp dress, and then he walked with her to the station. It seemed natural for him to take her in his arms and kiss her goodbye, and she pressed her soft young body against him as once more his tongue insinuated itself into her mouth.

They'd arranged to go to a concert together the following Saturday evening, and afterwards he suggested that they go back to the flat for coffee. Once again they sat on the sofa together, and after they drank their coffee he took her in his arms and kissed her. She was wearing a crisp white blouse and a slim blue skirt, and after a few moments she felt his fingers fumbling with the buttons of her blouse. It didn't matter - she knew it meant nothing, and then his hand was inside her blouse cupping her breast. He managed to free it from the cup of her bra, and it felt nice when he fondled her bare breast and played with her nipple.

Moira didn't notice the time passing as he kissed and caressed her, and then she suddenly realized that she'd missed the last train home. She didn't really care - she knew that Eric would look after her, and that she was safe with him. Eventually he looked at his watch and said it was time for bed. He said he didn't want to sleep on the sofa - it was too uncomfortable, but they could share the bed, sleeping with a sheet between them. He didn't have any pyjamas - he never wore them, but she could wear one of his shirts again.

When she came out of the bathroom, he was already in bed, sitting up and waiting for her, and she saw the mat of hair on his bare chest, just like Daddy's. She started to undress, knowing that he was watching her, and when she was naked he said that he'd never realized her body was so beautiful. She flushed with pleasure, and pirouetted slowly before him, almost feeling his eyes roaming over her body, obviously enjoying the sight of her full breasts with their large aureoles and prominent nipples, her slim waist and the thick bush of hair at the base of her tummy, but she knew it was entirely innocent.

She put on the shirt and climbed into bed beside him: it was difficult with the sheet between them, but he kissed her and fondled her naked breast, and it was nice when his hand moved down and squeezed her bare bottom. Then he pushed the sheet down and started to kiss her breasts. Her nipples stiffened, and he licked and sucked them, and when he gently bit them and tugged at them with his teeth she fainted. She came round to discover that the sheet was even further down, and that he was kissing and nibbling her soft tummy. Then he kissed her on the lips again, and finally she snuggled against him and fell asleep, safe in his arms.

Moira woke up first in the morning, and quietly slipped out of bed to make them both a cup of tea. she took the tea back to the bedroom, and gently shook Eric's bare shoulder, telling him it was time to wake up. He opened his eyes and she bent to kiss him, as she had done so often to her father. He struggled to sit up, and she handed him his tea, watching as he drank it. Then she took the empty cup from him, and felt his hand moving up her thigh. She smiled, happy that he liked to touch her, and she stroked his face.

He kissed her and she giggled, saying that he was all bristly, and he laughed and unbuttoned her shirt. Then he leaned over and rubbed his chin over her naked breasts, and unbidden her nipples stiffened. She held his face to her, crushing her breasts against his mouth, and again she felt him sucking her nipples, and then he nibbled them and tugged them gently with his teeth.

He eventually sat up, and she smiled at him as he took her hand. He squeezed her fingers, and then drew her hand under the sheet, and she felt him wrap her hand round his erect penis. She flushed with pleasure: after her mother had died, she'd often clambered into her father's bed in the mornings, and she'd felt his stiff penis pressing against her. He'd let her touch him sometimes, but that was all, although once, when she'd taken him a cup of tea in bed, she'd managed to spill some on herself, and she'd taken off her wet nightie and snuggled up to her father with nothing on. That was one of the times he'd let her hold his penis, and she'd felt it throbbing in her hand, it's head poking against her bare tummy. They'd stayed like that for a long while, and then he'd made her leave, and she'd heard him locking the bedroom door behind her.

Eric started to move her hand up and down his shaft, and she asked him if she could look at him. He threw back the sheet, to reveal his long, thick penis, very white, with heavy blue veins, and a bulbous purple head. She stared at it, enraptured, watching as he guided her eager hand to rub him gently. It was heaven, feeling his gristly penis in her hand, and knowing it was all so innocent, and that she was making him happy, and impulsively she bent to kiss it. Eric groaned, and she kept rubbing him, until he asked her to take her shirt off, and then she sat on the edge of the bed, completely naked, letting him look at her as she rubbed his cock the way he'd showed her.

He reached out and fondled her bare breast, and then pulled her to him as she suddenly felt hot, thick liquid start to spurt from his penis. His mouth covered hers, and his semen jetted over her naked body, from her chin to her tummy, in a seemingly endless stream, as she continued rubbing him while he crushed her breast and forced his tongue into her mouth.

He finally released her, and said he hadn't meant to do that, but it was just that it was a perfectly natural release, and he couldn't help it, but she said she didn't mind, it made her happy, and she liked to make him happy, too.

Afterwards, she'd had a bath, and he'd washed her body, and then he suggested they go out to a pub for lunch. They had drinks and a sandwich, sitting at a table in the corner, and he put his hand on her bare thigh and told her how much he'd liked seeing her naked, because she was so beautiful, and she said she liked it too, knowing that he liked looking at her.

They walked back through the park, and they went behind some bushes and kissed, and he fondled her breasts and she squeezed his penis through his trousers, and then they made their way back to his flat.. He asked her to undress for him, but keep her high-heeled shoes on, and he put on a record before sitting on the sofa with her and running his hands over her young body.

They kissed and cuddled, and he put one hand between her legs, joking that her thick bush hid a wonderful cave, and that he wanted to explore it. He put his fingers in the cave, feeling his way around, and he discovered her secret places while he kissed her. Soon she felt a wonderful sensation flooding through her body. She clung to him, feeling wonderfully safe and contented as wave after wave of that marvellous feeling swept over her, and then it seemed natural to rub his penis until the white fluid gushed out. He kept kissing her, and soon his penis was hard again: She called it her flagpole, and began rubbing it again, until once more the inevitable happened.

Moira spent more and more evenings at Eric's flat, where they'd listen to music, sometimes in bed, and they'd kiss and cuddle until she experienced that exquisite feeling again and his penis discharged in her hand. Or they take it in turns to play his violin, both with nothing on apart from her wearing her shoes. He fondled her while she played, and when he took the instrument from her she rubbed her flagpole.

Sometimes they met at lunchtime and ate sandwiches in the park. He told her not to wear any knickers when she met him - he liked to know that she had nothing on under her skirt, and anyway knickers blocked the entrance to her cave when they went behind the bushes, and they kissed while he fondled her and she took his penis out and rubbed it, enjoying the risk they were taking of being seen, and then watching him spurt onto the grass.

She began staying at the flat at weekends, and sometimes they didn't get dressed all day, but just kept kissing and cuddling each other. One Saturday afternoon they were lying on the bed together with nothing on as usual, and Moira started to idly kiss Eric's body with her eyes closed. She suddenly realized that her face was brushing against his penis, and she kissed it and then pressed her cheek against it. He said he liked that, and asked her to pretend it was his tongue.

Moira giggled and said it was a very big tongue, but dutifully ran her own tongue round it, and then took it in her mouth. He asked her to rub him while she was doing that, and to put her other hand between his legs and squeeze his testicles, and then he told her to suck him as well, and suddenly his white stuff flooded into her mouth. She choked at first, but then she started swallowing, and found she liked the taste, as well as the feel of his thick penis in her mouth, and it became a regular occurrence.

They went to a rehearsal with the orchestra, and Moira whispered to him that she wasn't wearing any knickers, and during the break he put his hand up her skirt and fondled her, and she squeezed him through his trousers, and afterwards they went back to his flat and finished what they'd begun.

One evening she undressed for him as usual, and then he told her that he'd invited a friend of his to dinner. He wanted her to stay naked, although of course to keep her shoes on, so that his friend could se how beautiful she was, and to cook dinner for them. They kissed for a while, and then the doorbell rang, and Eric told her to answer it - it would be his friend.

She went to the door, and saw a tall man, perhaps a little older than Eric, slim, with a neatly trimmed mustache. For a moment he just stared at her naked body, and she felt her nipples stiffening involuntarily, and then Eric was standing beside her, his arm around her waist. He introduced the visitor as his old friend Stanley, moving his hand up to fondle her breast as the man smiled at her, staring at what Eric was doing, and then they went into the sitting room, and Eric asked Stanley what he thought of her. Unbidden, she slowly revolved in front of him, and she felt Eric's hand travel down her back to caress her bottom, and then she faced them again, her nipples still jutting. Then she mixed them both a drink and started to prepare dinner.

She heard Stanley say how gorgeous she was, and that Eric was very lucky, and she felt very proud. She cooked an omelette and boiled some carrots and potatoes, and then served the men and sat between them at the dinner table. She was still naked, of course, and Stanley couldn't keep his eyes off her, and she felt Eric's hand on her thigh beneath the table, stroking her gently.

After dinner she played Eric's violin for the two men, her bare breasts swaying as she bowed the instrument, and they listened and watched her, entranced. Then they all moved to the sofa. again she sat between them, but this time with their legs and bodies touching. Eric put his arm round her and kissed her, and then she felt Stanley's hand on her breast. She looked at Eric questioningly, and he smiled and nodded, and she knew that it was all right to let Stanley fondle her.

She leaned her head back on the sofa, with Stanley caressing one breast and Eric the other, and then Stanley moved his head to kiss her. Once again she looked to Eric for his approval, and once again he nodded, and she turned her face towards the other man. His mustache tickled, but then his tongue was probing inside her mouth, and she put her arm round his neck, feeling Eric's - or was it Stanley's? hand on her body, and somebody was stroking her silky thigh. They kissed for a while, and then Eric suggested that they'd be more comfortable in the bedroom.

Moira curled up on the bed and watched as the two men undressed, and then they both lay down on the bed beside her, taking it in turns to kiss and fondle her. One would kiss her on the mouth and other would kiss her body, while their hands roamed over her. Both men sucked her breasts, and then Eric took her hand and wrapped her fingers round Stanley's rigid penis.

She knew what was expected of her, and she started to rub him, happy that she was pleasing Eric, and then Eric sat on the bed by her head and she took his penis in her mouth. Stanley ejaculated first, his stuff spurting over her body, and then Eric exploded in her mouth, choking her. After a while she went to the bathroom to clean herself, and then she came back and they started all over again.

One evening, as she and Eric were sitting on the sofa, idly kissing and fondling each other, he told her that on the coming Friday he had to go to the annual dinner of an association he belonged to, and Moira said that she'd probably spend the evening with Sally, her room-mate. Then she casually mentioned that Sally was very interested in their relationship, and wanted Moira to tell her everything they did. She also mentioned that Sally had tried to kiss her a few times, but that she hadn't let her. Eric said that he didn't mind her telling Sally the things they did, and that she should let Sally kiss her, and maybe do other things as well, and then Moira took his penis in her mouth, and the topic was forgotten.

But on Friday the two girls decided to go out to a nearby wine bar, and as they sat at a table sipping wine Sally covered her hand with her own. Moira remembered what Eric had said, and instead of taking her hand away she turned it over and squeezed Sally's fingers, smiling at her. A few minutes later Sally's hand dropped to Moira's thigh, and once again Moira smiled as the hand slowly moved up under her skirt. Sally moved her chair closer, and then she put her arm round Moira and kissed her. Moira giggled and told Sally not to move her hand any higher up her leg - because Eric liked it when she didn't wear any knickers, she hardly ever put any on these days apart from when she went to the office, and not always then, and she wasn't wearing any tonight.

Sally checked for herself, and her finger's brushed Moira's sex, and then Moira felt the other girl's face soft against hers, in contrast to Eric's stubble and Stanleys's mustache, and it felt nice, and then Sally's tongue was thrusting into her mouth. That felt nice, too, and Moira responded eagerly. When they left the wine bar they stopped every few paces to kiss, and Moira felt Sally tenderly fondle her breast. Back at their lodgings they went to Moira's room, and then they were kissing again as they undressed each other, and suddenly Sally's face was between her legs, and the now-familiar wonderful sensation started to flood through her. She knew that Eric would be pleased when she told him.

A few evenings later that were at Eric's flat as usual, and as usual Moira was naked. They'd had dinner, and he was trying to teach her the fingering for a particularly difficult piece on his violin. Time after time she tried to get it right, until finally he smacked her on the bottom and said she deserved a good spanking.

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byparabolus© 2 comments/ 100700 views/ 4 favorites

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