"Well, you know I took Debby to the prom a few weeks ago, and thought we had a good time," he started. "But, now, she doesn't seem to have any time to just hang out, at least with me anyway."
"Well, sweetheart, people and things change," I said. "Maybe she's trying to make other friends."
He snorted and said, "Yeah, I guess so, cause she certainly spends a lot of time with her girl friends."
"Honey, you have to understand, boys and girls at your age are going through some tremendous changes, and you both are trying to figure out what you want in life. Maybe you should give her a break and check out a few of the other girls."
"But they all seem so silly at times, and only want to gossip about stuff..." he said dejectedly. "At least with Debby we could have a decent conversation about something other than who's dating who."
"That's 'whom' dear, but there seems to be more to it than that. What else is confusing?"
"I don't know," he mumbled, eyes on the table. "This whole dating thing, and what guys and girls are supposed to do... It used to be we could just get together and hang out...and now everybody is pairing up...going together... and." he trailed off.
"Go ahead, tell me what's on your mind" I encouraged him.
"Well, I don't want to just go with someone to learn about all the other stuff, and maybe get stuck and miss the chance to meet someone really great because 'I'm taken'."
"Honey, I'm not sure what you mean about all the other stuff," I said (though I had very little doubt). "But going together doesn't mean you have to get married...you're way, way to young for that now." I paused, and said, "besides, you have tons of friends and you don't have to get 'too' involved with anyone, and there are a lot of people you haven't even met yet."
"But mom, most of the other guys are going with someone, or if not it's easy to understand why not. And most of the girls I know are only impressed with a big car and lots of money."
I felt a twinge of guilt as I realized, perhaps, I wasn't providing well enough, but then remembered how I grew up. "Baby, you really don't want to compete for girls who are so easily impressed. You're handsome, intelligent, sweet as they come, and have a lot to offer some lucky girl."
"Well, there may be another problem too..." he trailed off.
"Okay, what's that," I said gently, trying to draw him out.
"Well, you know I've been out with a lot of girls, and Debby isn't the only one to...well...you know....practice stuff with..." he said, eyes still on the table. "But I don't seem to get it...whenever I kiss a girl...like in the movies...they get all...huffy...like all I want to do is rip their clothes off...and stuff."
Here I knew we were into dangerous ground.
"Well, I don't know anything about your technique," I started, "but I can let you in on a few little bits of information...that you may not like." I paused a moment, and then continued. "First, you're probably going to have to have a whole lot more patience than you think, or want to have at this point in life."
"A relationship is kind of like a tree," I opined, "and they take time to grow. And if you want a strong, sturdy, cultivated tree, not like one in the woods that grows wild and fights with the environment around it, you have to tend it with love, and...like I said, quite a bit of patience." I laughed a little and added, "of course the difference is a tree won't ever love you back, but the right girl could fulfill your every fantasy and knock your socks off in the process."
"The second thing you have to consider is that most girls your age really don't know what they want. And it doesn't get a whole lot better as they get older...because as they do begin to figure out what they want, there's a tendency to play games while they experiment." I paused a moment, thoughtfully, before plunging on. "When they become women, and a little more mature, and a little more sure of what they do and don't want, it's a little easier, but not much. Men and women are so alike, yet so completely different, that it's hard sometimes for them to fully relate...people have to remember to try and think like the other sex a little, to appreciate what they want, so you can give it to them, when and how they want it."
I stopped, feeling the sensations again. All of a sudden, I "felt" a dozen hands all over me, unbuttoning my blouse, lifting my dress, caressing my thighs, spreading them, fingers titillating my pussy, hands squeezing my bottom, fingers spreading my cheeks, my breasts being massaged and my nipples...sucked.
I took a deep breath and tried to shake off the confusion that was growing, and wondering if I should go on with the next thought.
"At your age, other things are going on that also create a great deal of confusion." Was I talking to him, or myself now?
Struggling now to keep my composure, and feeling the blood rushing through me as my breath quickened and my juices began to flow, and my nipples grew more sensitive and .... "Your body is changing, creating hormones you never had to deal with before, and they may be making you a little more aggressive, so maybe you're moving a little too fast for the girls your age." Taking another deep breath, I plunged on, knowing I had to end this and get away, to compose myself before I lost control and....
"I guess, like most kids today, you've learned your 'techniques' from the movies. But you have to remember that movies are only an hour and a half to two hours long. In that framework, the hero is supposed to find a girl, win her undying passion, save the world from some catastrophe, and have great sex. Real life just isn't like that. You can't rush someone into a relationship ...like they do in the movies."
At this point, I was beginning to lose it. As he sat across from me, hands on the table, eyes downcast and somewhat dejected, "someone's" tongue was driving me crazy, tickling my ears, sliding up and down my vagina, slowly rubbing my clitoris, agitating my nipples, taking me closer and closer to an orgasm...
"Tell you what" I struggled to finish, "why don't you make an effort to go out every other night for the next couple of weeks, but with someone new or different, or someone you know but don't usually hang out with." I spread my legs a little as the sensation of a "cock" slipping inside my vagina began to arise. My bung hole was itching so bad I wanted to reach around and rub it. And Ohhh, how I wanted to finish whatever the "sensations" had started.
Using every ounce of energy to maintain my composure, I stood up saying, "and then, we can talk about how you feel, and what you want after you've done a little running around. Who knows, it may be an almost complete waste of time, but you're young, and maybe you'll run into a few guys and gals who are a little more in tune with you. But you have to get out and broaden your horizons. Maybe you've been spending too much time with the same old people. But whatever you do, remember to be gentle...like you are with me." I moved around the table, and leaned over to give him a kiss on the head. As I moved, I "felt" the sensations quickening, as if "someone else" was already rubbing my bottom to soothe the agitation in my bung hole, while the cock slid slowly up into me, filling me, creating juices that I'd though had dried up long ago.
I was barely able to get to my room and collapse on the bed before the rush hit. And I hadn't even touched myself.
|Another great story by Anonymous.|
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