Third Time Lucky

Caithleen McManus was an only child. Her father was an English teacher who enjoyed teaching literature, and her mum was quite happy taking care of their child, the little dog, the household and the garden. She was a good cook and Caithleen loved her. She had a sheltered youth and grew up to be a happy young woman.

She had lovely eyes, so much so that even one of her teachers, an older man with a quiet sense of humour that most of her classmates didn't get, called her Miss Bright Eyes sometimes. One of her friends at the time, Ellen, the daughter of a Dutch immigrant, hinted he'd probably got designs on her, but nobody else remotely thought so; he was too vague, and never even noticed the blatant attempts the sexy gym mistress made to get him interested.

Apart from those eyes Caithleen had a nose that was a little too long, full lips with a pronounced cupid's bow and a stocky figure. She was about 5'4", her breasts were just a little too big for her, but not big enough to cause her discomfort, and her lack of formal beauty was compensated for by a quick wit and a more than average intelligence. Some of the brighter young men in the final years of school and at university saw her for what she was; and she wasn't too interested in the others.

She went her own way in most respects. She had no time for the bland hit parade songs her peers listened to; she liked folk rock and Zappa and the Velvet Underground, and she spent some time dabbling in playing the bass guitar. But she wasn't too talented, and it took her too much time to be any good at it.

She had one real friend, Roseanne Jones, whom she had met in primary school, and who was quite different from her in lots of respects. But opposites attract, and they'd struck up a very close friendship. Roseanne liked to talk about girls' things and in doing so she filled Caithleen in on all kinds of things that would have eluded her otherwise; she told her about her boyfriends, and what fun it was to have some boy really interested in you, and how she sometimes stimulated such interest by dressing up for them. Caithleen usually wore jeans and some top or other, and she came to really noticing the other sex rather late; she did have a few male friends, but their sex was no consideration; Roseanne was a real beauty, and although she didn't exactly flaunt her figure she was well aware of its effects on the male half of the population.

When she was twenty-five, Caithleen suddenly fell head over heels for Joey Ayers, a good-looking post-graduate with a brilliant mind, a wicked grin and dark, curly hair. She had met him a couple of times at parties and when she went out for a drink, and the things he said and the way he moved struck her in a way she'd not held possible before. He bought her a drink once or twice, and she noticed he never did so for anyone else. When she discussed him with Roseanne, she told her that Joey would not usually come to parties at all, and that she thought it was probably because of her that he did.

It was; Joey had immediately recognised a kindred spirit in the young woman who was so unlike the other girls around, and there was something in her smile and in her eyes that held an immense appeal for him. He was a little shy sometimes, but he felt fairly comfortable with Caithleen.

Caithleen didn't know how to flirt, and she wasn't going to try. Once she'd made up her mind she simply went to Joey and invited him over for a drink at her place. He was a little early, and she had just had a shower; she had wrapped a towel around her breasts and hips and went to open the door.

"I am sorry," he said. "Shall I wait outside?"

"No, come in. I'm glad you're here." She motioned with her hand for him to enter, and the towel came loose around her breasts.

Blushing fiercely, and not knowing where to look, Joey stepped inside.

"Drat that towel," Caithleen said. She gathered it up in one hand and preceded Joey into the living area completely naked.

"Just a sec," she said, "I'll put something on."

She disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Joey with an imprint of her naked back and buttocks and an uncomfortable erection. To divert his thoughts he wandered around looking at the contents of the room. It was just like her, he thought, a curious mixture of sweetly feminine things and various artefacts that in his opinion were more likely to appeal to a masculine taste.

Caithleen came back into the room. She was barefoot and she wore a t-shirt with the Andy Warhol picture of a mouth and a Coca Cola bottle.

"Velvet Underground," he said.

"Yes - it's a beautiful sleeve." She rummaged in her records and took out the double album. "Like to hear some of it?"

She put on side A. "I'm Waiting for the Man" blasted from the speakers, and she went to the kitchen. She came back with a thermos of coffee and two cups.

They sat and listened for a moment, and then Caithleen said, "Look, I er - I'd like you for my boyfriend. I think you're nice, and I think I understand what you're about. I - Roseanne told me something about the way she gets in to and out of relationships, but I don't think I could do that. I got the idea that you might want to give it a try."

Joey blushed again. "Damn," he said. "I don't usually blush. I'd love to, yes. I-I-I-"

To his chagrin he started to stammer, but Caithleen didn't seem to notice. At his admittance she broke into big smile that went straight to his heart and crotch, and she fixed those eyes on him, and he melted for her like butterscotch. She got up from her chair, sat down on his lap and kissed him.

Joey felt hot and cold, and after the initial paralysis he put his arms around her and kissed her back. It was clear to him that she wasn't experienced at all; when he touched her lips with his tongue she didn't respond. But she cuddled close to him, and heaved a deep sigh of contentment.

Then she broke their kiss. "You'll have to show me what to do," she said. "I have never done this before, and er, Roseanne told me some things but I never bothered to ask any details. Shall we go to the bedroom?"

"But er - are you sure? I don't want to be awkward, but er -"

"Do you want me for your girlfriend or don't you? I'm not joking or something; and I don't want you for just the one time. You said you did just now..." Her eyes slowly filled with tears.

Joey felt very embarrassed. He stroked her hair and mumbled, "I do - but maybe you'd want to think about it first, and we have not been together so often, and I haven't brought any condoms..."

"Oh Joey - as if that mattered. I've taken care I can't get pregnant now; I'm not that naïve. Do teach me how - please?"

She got up off his lap and held out her hand. Rather bewildered Joey took it and let himself be led to the bedroom.

"Now what? You do know, don't you?" Caithleen asked.

Joey finally got out of his stupor. He nodded and opened his arms for Caithleen to step in and kissed her again. Then he stopped, and said, "What I'd like when kissing is touching your tongue with mine, and tasting the inside of your mouth. It's sexier than kissing with just your lips, and I'd love to taste your saliva."

"Ok," Caithleen said. She kissed him again and now she opened her lips when he stuck out his tongue. Joey felt her soft tongue touch his own; then she circled around it and sucked him inside. She didn't need any more instructions, and she held his head between her hands and stroked his hair and his cheeks.

So that's why people like this, she thought. Hmm. She tried to put her tongue into Joey's mouth, and he happily received her.

He ran his hands up and down her back. Then he went back to her shoulder blades with one hand and slipped the other inside the waistband of her trousers. Caithleen momentarily froze; then she let go of Joey's head and undid the fastening of her jeans. "Please feel free," she whispered before she went back to Joey's lips and mouth.

Joey moved his other hand to her waist, too. He took hold of her waistband with both hands and pushed her trousers down past her buttocks. Then he sent her panties after her jeans and cupped her bottom in his hands.

"You have a nice bum," he said in between kisses. He stroked it with one hand and ran the index finger of the other hand along the crack between, softly touching and teasing her rosebud with the tip.

Caithleen had clasped her arms around his back. She was trembling a little with the emotions of the moment and she felt the crotch of her panties go very damp. She could feel Joey's erection press into her, and it felt good. It was sweet, it was exciting and she felt ready to learn all she could.

To her delight Joey moved his free hand over to her front. He slid it under her t-shirt and up to her breasts, and he ran his hand along the elastic of her bra. She had put on her nicest one, with thin cups and some embroidery, and she loved to feel his hand on her nipple through the cup.

"Caithleen," he said, "I'd like to have you naked now!"

She stepped back, and he looked at her as she stepped out of her trousers and panties. Then he put his hands on her waist and she lifted her arms. He took off her t-shirt and bent over to kiss her nipples through her bra.

"I'd like to feel your mouth on my bare skin," Caithleen whispered. Somehow she felt the moment was to precious to speak out loud, and Joey shared the feeling.

"One moment," he whispered in answer. He undid her bra and her breasts fell free. They were big and beautiful, he thought, and he resumed kissing her nipples and started to stroke the undersides.

"Yes - that's lovely. Oh please..."

She was almost overcome by all new sensations; her nipples seemed to be in direct communion with her pussy and she got the impression that the tops of her legs were getting quite wet.

"May I undress you now?"

Joey stopped kissing her breasts. He straightened his back and smiled at her.

"Yes please," he said almost inaudibly.

Caithleen methodically removed his clothes. She unbuttoned his shirt, undid his trousers and knelt down to unlace his shoes. She took his ankles, one by one, and helped him out of his shoes and socks. She pulled down his trousers and underpants; then got up again and removed his shirt.

She stepped back to have a good look at her handiwork. Joey had a nice body. There were just a few hairs on his chest. He wasn't too skinny, she thought, and he seemed to have strong arms. His pubic hair was dark, exactly like the hair on his head, and the skin of his penis was a little darker than his normal skin. The foreskin had moved back from the tip, which was shiny and purplish.

They smiled at each other.

"You're beautiful," Joey said.

"So are you. May I touch your cock?"

Joey nodded. Caithleen knelt down in front of him and took him in her hands. She hardly touched him.

"You needn't be afraid to hurt me - only my balls are a bit sensitive, but you can squeeze my penis as hard as you like."

She looked up at him and smiled. She exerted more pressure on him, and she watched with interest as a clear drop appeared on the tip. Pre-seminal liquid, she thought - but that's probably just the technical term... she enjoyed handling him. His cock felt warm and resilient, and her hand fitted nicely around it. She felt his balls with the other, and explored the way his nuts moved in side the loose skin. Then she moved her hand back and forth.

"Is this nice?" she asked.

Joey nodded. "It is. If you go on like this I'll come all over your hands."

"Oh." She stopped and got up. "Can you insert it into me?"

"Yes I can. You make it sound a little clinical, though."

She made a face. "I don't know how else to ask it. You'd better tell me some time. Shall I lay down on the bed?"

He nodded. "But I'll want to look at you first, too. Do you mind?"

Caithleen shook her head. "Fair enough," she said. "Come!"

She sat down on the bed, and then stretched herself and spread her legs.

Joey sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked her pubic hair. Her inner labia were very swollen and they stuck out quite some way. She had a big clitoris that was visible as a whitish spot under the protective hood, and he enthusiastically breathed in her smell.

"You're beautiful here."

He touched the hair on her mons veneris and ran his fingers down to her pussy.

"And you feel wonderful, too."

He bent down, and kissed the outlines of her labia, and then he tasted her slit, running his tongue between her inner labia as deeply as he could. He mover his upper lip over her clit and she shivered.

"Hmm..." she moaned. "Ooh..."

Joey stopped eating her. "I'll come into you now," he whispered. "I hope it won't hurt."

Caithleen shook her head. "I used a dildo once, and my hymen is gone," she said.

He knelt between Caithleen legs and ran the head of his cock up and down her slit.

"Ok?"

"Please..." she said.

He pressed into her slowly. She looked into his eyes, smiling and a little anxious, and she took his face in her hands again. She opened her lips, and he put his mouth on hers. As he slowly moved back and forth she began to moan into his mouth. She loved the feeling of his cock filling her up, and she rubbed her body against Joey's, softly at first, but then more firmly, and she smiled into his eyes.

Joey, who had made love to two other girls before, was floating on air. The others had not been like this - he had only had those girls once. One of them had not wanted him again and the other had been a tipsy mistake. Caithleen was the real thing. She made him feel comfortable, she made him feel at home and she made him feel happy and sexy and wanted - and he wanted her. He wanted her more than anything he'd wanted before. It felt as if he'd only come alive after a long sleep just now, as if his senses, which had been dull and unused before, had suddenly come alive.

He slowly moved in and out of Caithleen's pussy and revelled in the smooth feeling of the inner walls of her vagina caressing his cock, talking to him of more joys to come and of a love that almost hurt.

Caithleen's body tingled with the unfamiliar sensations coursing through her body, her veins, her being... and over all that was the utter bliss of lying in Joey's arms with his manhood lodged deep inside her, touching her cervix and then almost leaving her. She felt his weight on her hard nipples and his tongue in her mouth, and she instinctively began working her vaginal muscles on his cock.

To her joy it seemed to stimulate him; he began to fuck her more determinedly, and she pressed her vulva up to be as close to him as she could. He was panting by now, and she was calling his name and she dug her fingers in his shoulders.

"Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes..." she sighed, and then she went back to his lips and sucked his tongue into her hungry mouth again.

Suddenly she felt a change in her body. The muscles of her pussy and pelvis contracted, and she got a sensation as if she were floating. Then she started to shudder. She heard Joey groan, and she felt his come spurt into her depths.

"Caithleen, oh Caithleen," he stammered. "Oh, my Caithleen..."

Then he collapsed on top of her. She squeezed his cock again and licked his nose. They looked into each other's eyes, and smiled, and Caithleen softly stroked Joey's back, lovingly and long.

Eventually he got off of her and sat up.

"Oh look," Caithleen said. "You've gone all small and wrinkled. When will you go hard again?"

"Just give me a little time. Is there any more coffee in that pot? The coffee you poured must have gone completely cold."

Joey loved her - lock, stock and barrel. He could watch her for hours and he would talk with her until deep into the night. He loved her body, and to him she was the epitome of femininity - nice and plump and soft, and entirely to his taste.

They explored all possible ways to make love together. Caithleen loved his tongue on her pussy, and being on top, and she felt doggy-style was alright sometimes, although she always felt a little sorry she couldn't kiss him, and she didn't like just being on the passive end. She liked her anus stimulated in foreplay, but anal penetration didn't appeal to her, and Joey preferred her pussy any time.

Nobody who knew them was in the least surprised when he moved in with her after they'd been together for only a couple of weeks. Caithleen introduced Joey to her parents, who liked him a lot. Especially her father hit it off with him, and the two men would sit talking together for hours. Joey never took Caithleen round to his family; when she asked him why he gave a somewhat evasive answer, and she didn't press the question any further. Joey had never talked about his parents; she didn't really mind, although it was hard for her to understand why.

When they had been together for about a year Joey proposed to her, and she happily accepted. They got married soon afterwards with as little fuss as possible, at a registrar's office.

Caithleen finished her studies and found herself a job; Joey had stayed on at university. He carried out various research projects and was quite contented doing them. For about two years they were extremely happy together. They thought they were too young to think of children. There was Joey's career to be considered, and Caithleen enjoyed working very much. There was ample time yet.

Then Joey's parents died in a car crash. After the years of being taciturn about them Joey poured out all the repressed feelings of dislike, of having been neglected by his father in favour of his soccer-star brother, of anger at his parents' divorce - his mother had just left the lot of them one day for the builder who had repaired the dormer windows of his birthplace - and subsequent remarriage...

Caithleen sat listening to him with a feeling of foreboding, which proved to be only too justified. From one day unto the other Joey fell into a deep depression. He didn't touch her any more; he couldn't bring himself to do any of the things he liked. He started to neglect his work; then he slowly began to neglect himself. He wouldn't speak to Caithleen for days, and when he did he was often either completely unreasonable or incomprehensible.

Caithleen tried her best to get him out of it. She made an appointment for him with their GP, but Joey didn't react, and flatly refused to get any professional help.

She tried to talk to him and to get him to tell her what it was that made him flee from all and everything; she tried to hold him, bodily at first, then just his hands, but he shrank from her as if she were a stranger. It hurt. It hurt so much she lay awake most nights, crying silently, not seeing any way out. Her parents noticed the change in her and asked her if they could help, but she just shook her head. If Joey didn't go and help himself, if he didn't want any help, nobody could.

He started to drift. He often went out until far in the night and he frequently came home dead drunk. He never offered any violence, but nevertheless Caithleen was rather afraid of him sometimes. She did continue to try and help him, but to no avail.

Then Joey went missing for a prolonged period. She went through those long, long days feeling dazed and numb, and when the police came calling she didn't have to ask what had happened; she could tell by the look on the officer's face. She did ask how; and she told him why. To her surprise there were no tears now; her misery had found an outlet through different channels.

It took her a couple of years to get over it. She slept for days and then she would lie awake half the night, wondering how she could have saved Joey, and berating herself for not having tried hard enough; though rationally she knew she couldn't have made a difference it didn't feel that way.