Aristippus - Robin's Story

I'd been shaving my legs and underarms for years. But I never shaved Miss Kitty, because - well, just because. I never envisioned a lover's face buried deep in my pubes. But there he was. His tongue was already deep inside me, and all I could see of his face was from his eyes up. Oh my, was it clean enough down there? It felt so good, and I loved what he was doing. But my hygiene. I'd showered that morning before school. But I'd peed at least twice since then.

Then, unexpectedly, what turned out to be the first orgasm of my life, began to build. Suddenly I couldn't worry about my personal cleanliness. My body was beginning to tremble, my legs were shaking, my toes were starting to curl - then, without warning, I felt a wetness between my legs that I had never felt before. I tried to hold it back, but to no avail. I raised my head to warn Kyle, but he was licking me like a thirsty dog.

I realized at that point that I'd had an orgasm, and apparently, Kyle loved it. And once I caught my breath and was satisfied that my uncontrolled leaking was just part of being female, I dropped my head back onto my pillow and began to relax. Kyle however, was ready for the next step, and moments later, he was scooting up my body until his rigid member aligned with my tingling and soaking wet hole. I assumed he would just slide right into me; I was certainly wet enough. But no, Kyle wanted to tease me even more. He gently poked my love hole but didn't fully enter me. Whether he knew I was a virgin or not, I didn't know. And at this point, I didn't care. But holding his body over mine with outstretched arms, he slowly slid his hard-on up and down my sloppy slit. Up and down, and up and down, without actually entering me. If he had reached climax, he would have blown his load up my belly.

Finally, I couldn't take it any longer. "Kyle!" I yelled, as I grabbed his dick with one hand and pointed it straight at my hole. Then with the other hand, I grabbed a naked butt cheek and yanked him down and toward me. And his five or six inches (I didn't have a ruler) slid in all the way to the hilt. He was fucking me. Or I was fucking him. What the hell? We were fucking, and I was no longer a virgin. And it didn't hurt. I think that's just a story that Nuns tell Catholic girls to keep them from screwing their boyfriends.

I think that first time, he lasted maybe two minutes. Two dozen strokes at the most before his body began to tighten and then shake and tremble uncontrollably. And then, as he let out the most prolonged and the deepest guttural groan I had ever heard, I felt his warm bodily fluids fill me. It was the most exquisite thing I had ever felt. And as his orgasm reached its peak, my second one hit simultaneously. Suddenly I was really leaking, and our combined fluids quickly wet the bed beneath us. It was a huge wet spot. But there was nothing I could do about it now. I'd just have to change the bedspread before Mom got home.

Totally exhausted, Kyle continued to lay across me for the next four or five minutes. That is until his dead weight just became too much to bear. I gently pushed him to the side, and he immediately curled me into his arms in a spooning position. That is the position we both fell asleep in. Cuddled up, spooning, like two little naked babies.

"Robin!" I heard my mom exclaim. Startled from a deep slumber, I opened my eyes to see my mother standing in the doorway to my room. Purely out of raw instinct, Kyle rolled from the bed opposite the door, and hit the floor hard. I heard a loud thud as his body made contact with the carpet. And just as fast, he was on his feet and racing to get his pants on. I just as instinctively sat up in a tight ball with my knees against my chest and pulled a blanket up to cover my nakedness to within an inch of my neck.

As my mom stared at me, her hands on her hips, Kyle raced to pull up his jeans and put his arms through his shirt sleeves. Forget underwear, forget socks, and certainly forget buttoning the shirt. He grabbed his shoes and sprinted for the door. My mother stepped aside and let him leave without a single word between them. I was relieved that she let him go, but I was just hoping that his car keys were in his jeans pocket.

"What do you think you are doing?" she said, glaring at me.

"What are you doing home?" I retorted, trying to defuse the situation. But of course, only making it worse.

"I'm asking the questions here, young lady," she barked. "And who was that?"

"It was my boyfriend," I answered sheepishly. "Kyle."

"Kyle?" she questioned. "Do I know him?"

"He's in Musical Theater with me," I responded, mad at myself that we had been caught. But even more upset about facing my mother under such unplanned and awkward circumstances.

"Robin, how long have you known him?" she said, with her hands still on her hips. "I don't think I've ever met him."

"I've known him for years, Mom."

"Well, how long have you been having sex?" she demanded.

I paused for a second, as I doubted she would believe me no matter what I said. "This was our first time," I shyly mumbled.

"Robin, sex is for married adults," she scolded as she started wagging her finger at me.

"Mom, I am an adult. I'm eighteen, and I'm an adult," I responded, as I fought back tears. "And you and Dale aren't married."

I think I must have hit a cord. Mom dropped her finger and paused for a moment before walking over to my bed and calmly sitting down. I was still sitting in a ball, with a blanket covering my nudity. No longer angry, but more reflective, she said, "Robin, I'm sorry. You are an adult. I shouldn't have phrased it that way," she paused again, realizing that I was on the verge of tears. "What I meant was adults that are in a long-term relationship. Dale and I had dated for - well, for almost a year before we ever had sex. And though we are not married, we are in a long-term, committed relationship."

She was now almost in tears herself. And I wanted to hug her, but I reeked of fresh sex and thought better of it. "Mom," I said slowly, fighting back the urge to cry. "I've known Kyle ever since starting high school. And you are correct; we are not in a committed relationship. But we have known each other for almost four years, and we're very close friends." The close friends may have been a slight exaggeration, but I had to say something in my own defense.

There was another long pause as she considered my words. And I think she wanted to hug me also, but resisted. "Are you on birth control?" she finally asked.

I shook my head no.

"Okay, I'll get you an appointment with the gynecologist." She then patted my shoulder, before getting up and walking to the door. Turning back, she said, "And I'm sorry for not knocking. Your door was closed, and I should have knocked."

Realizing that the worst was over and wiping a tear from my face, I said, "I'm sorry for the mess in the kitchen, Mom, and for taking your liquor." I started to blame Kyle, but I knew there was no point in that.

She nodded again, and before leaving my room, said, "You get dressed; I'll clean up the kitchen."

"No Mom, I'll do it. I made the mess. I'll clean up the kitchen."

That was my first sexual experience. The first of many, I might add. And though losing my virginity hurt, it didn't hurt in the way I had always envisioned.

The following weekend, I brought Kyle over to meet Mom and Dale. As you can imagine, he wasn't too anxious to make their acquaintance. But I insisted, and I promised him that I'd make it worth his while. After saying it twice, I think he understood my innuendo and reluctantly agreed.

"Kyle, it's nice to meet you," Mom said as we walked into the house together.

Not knowing whether a gentleman is supposed to offer his hand to a woman you're introduced to, or not, Kyle nervously held back. That is until mom offered her hand, and Kyle, quickly reaching out to shake it, said, "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Winters."

"It's nice to finally meet you, Kyle," she said with a slightly sarcastic tone to her voice. Her implied tenor didn't elude Kyle any more than it did me. But thankfully, Dale quickly extended his hand and sincerely said, "Dale Niederman, and call me Dale, please." Mercifully, he didn't say something like, 'I've heard so much about you.' Which could have been taken a dozen different ways, and none of them good.

That did break the ice. And then Kyle spent most of the next fifteen minutes that we all stood together in the entry hall, complimenting me on what a remarkable actress I was. And what an amazing singing voice I had, and what great parents I must have to have raised such an incredible talent.

I don't think Mom bought any of it, and Dale just stood there smiling and nodding. And I actually blushed. But it did get us over the hump of Mom's first introduction to Kyle as he rolled off my bed stark naked.

Safely out of the house and in Kyle's car, I leaned over and kissed him on the lips before he even started the engine. "Thank you Kyle," I said sweetly. "I know that was hard for you to do." And as I rubbed his leg, I added, "And I know something else that's hard, and I'll take care of that too, I promise."

Kyle was now the one blushing, and I just smiled a wicked smile as he started the engine and dropped the transmission into gear. He took me first to Kip's Big Boy. A Southern California tradition. And a place where I could play footies with him under the table of our booth. We then walked the famous 'Hollywood Walk of Stars' on Hollywood Boulevard. Being a Hollywood wannabe, this is one of my favorite places to go, and I'm sure he knew that.

We stopped at Tim Conway's star, just a block and a half east of the famous Chinese Theater, where Kyle launched into at least a half dozen impersonations of Tim Conway. I had no idea he could do Tim Conway better than the actor could do himself. And I laughed so hard, I cried - and almost wet my pants.

Then, after visiting a nearby ladies' room, we drove up to the Griffith Observatory. For those not familiar with Los Angeles, the observatory offers an incredible view of the city at night and doubles as an excellent lovers' lane. I would have preferred to do this in the safety and comfort of one of our bedrooms or a nice hotel room. But I had no time for such luxuries. It was time to thank Kyle for my sensuous deflowering. And for running the gantlet of my mother's wrath of finding us in bed, as well as her sarcasm during our initial meeting fully clothed.

Kyle's car had bucket seats, of course. But once safely parked on a secluded curve on Observation Drive, I unbuckled my seat belt and leaned over the center console to kiss him. And to steady myself, I had little choice but to put my hand on his leg. And then, as our kisses became more intense, I must have moved my hand to his crotch. For I was neither surprised nor offended, to find him as hard as a rock.

Three days earlier, Kyle had eaten me to my first climatic explosion, and it was my turn to return the favor. Moving my lips from his and placing them immediately adjacent to his ear, I whispered, "Kyle, I want to suck your dick."

He didn't even faint an objection. He quickly pushed me back to my seat, undid his seatbelt, and unbuckled his belt. For the second time in three days, I watched as Kyle struggled with his Levi's, but this time he was struggling to get them down, instead of back on. It was dark in the car, the lights were off, and we were nowhere near a streetlight. But once his jeans were down to mid-thigh, in the ambient light of the night sky, and for the second time in my life, I laid my eyes on Kyle's glistening woody.

I instinctively reached for it, like it was some sort of gold ring on a merry-go-round. I knew he wouldn't pull it back, but I just couldn't help myself. And he did flinch as I wrapped my cool hand around its base. But after taking a deep breath, he gently rested his hand on my shoulder. I stroked him several times, before gazing up into his hazel eyes, and silently asked permission to proceed. His body just vibrated, and I took that to mean I had permission, and I slowly lowered my mouth over his bulging crown.

The taste was like nothing I had ever tasted before, but the sensation of his most private body part in my mouth was absolutely divine. Heavenly may have been a better way to describe it, and I wanted so badly to please him. But on the other hand, I simply wanted to suck him until daylight. Or the police tapped on the window - whichever came first (pun intended).

Fortunately, Kyle came first. And boy did he ever. I had no idea what I was doing. I was just gently stroking the bottom half of his throbbing woody, while my lips glided up and down the top half, and my tongue teased his crown. He lasted two - maybe three minutes. Then his body tightened and began to shake uncontrollably. I knew this was it, but I didn't know what to do.

I stopped my stroke, and I sealed my lips around his crown. And then, as he groaned even louder than he had Wednesday in my bed, wave after wave of hot creamy fluid filled my mouth. I then really had no idea what to do. I didn't want to spill it in his car, and I had no place to spit it out. So, like a good trooper, I swallowed, and I swallowed, and I swallowed some more. I thought it would never end, but it did, and I finally got a chance to taste it.

I had never tasted anything quite like it before. It was thick and creamy like a warm yogurt, yet it wasn't sweet. It was basically neutral, yet with a slightly salty aftertaste. I guess that was it, a salty and savory warm yogurt. And just as I was getting used to it, Kyle's entire groin erupted in the aroma of the human crotch. Not like urine, but more like sex. Which is what we just did; at least Kyle did. And it dawned on me, the scent of the human pheromones. The smell of sex. And though it took me back at first, I loved it once I realized what it was.

Kyle and I remained a number for the rest of the school year and well into the summer. And as he began hanging around my house more, my mom got used to him, though I'm sure she could never get that first impression out of her mind. And Dale actually warmed up to Kyle. Of course, he hadn't seen him roll off my bed naked, and I wasn't actually his daughter. So, I'm sure that helped ease some of the tension. Kyle and Dale actually became friendly to each other, and though I liked it on one side, I knew we weren't a forever couple, so I kept hoping they wouldn't get too attached to each other.

And as the summer came to an end, Kyle went off to California Polytechnic in San Luis Obispo. And I stayed home and enrolled at Cal State Northridge. Kyle had a lot better grades than I did, and I knew he was planning on Cal Poly. We even took an overnight road trip the short hundred eighty miles to San Luis Obispo so he could show me the campus. And my mom was okay with us going away overnight. I think she had the usual mix of emotions; I was her little girl, but I was also an adult. Plus, she knew we were already having sex. Boy, did she ever. And thanks to her help, I was now on birth control. So, with misty eyes, she cautioned us to drive safely and waved goodbye.

Dale had bought Mom a new car, and she handed her old one down to me. It was a nine-year-old Lexus, but it was in great shape, and I loved it. It was just a little over twenty miles from our house in Glendale to Cal State Northridge. So at least for my freshman year, I continued to live at home. I selected Theater as my major and Cinema and Television Arts as my minor. I would have simply majored in Cinema, as I really wanted to end up in the movies. But all of the acting classes were in the Theater Department.

The Theater Department at Northridge was fine; I really didn't have any complaints. But it wasn't Glendale High. College was a much larger fishbowl, and I was suddenly a much smaller fish. Plus, the work was more challenging. Where in high school, we did one major production per year. At the college level, we did two, in addition to numerous smaller productions throughout the year. And further, my heart was really in the movies. I wanted to be a movie actor - I wanted my star on Hollywood Boulevard within my lifetime.

And one further frustration, I missed Kyle. Or, to be totally accurate, I missed the sex. I did not consider Kyle to be my soulmate, if such a thing even exists. But I did love our intimacy. We understood each other on that level. He just knew how to please me, and I felt that I had the same connection to him. We had different goals and ambitions, but we clearly possessed the same carnal instincts.

I never developed a serious boyfriend during the first semester of my freshman year. I dated a few guys and even had sex with one of them, but there were no sparks. Something was missing. That's when I signed up for Anthropology of Sex in the Spring Semester. It wasn't in either my major or minor, but I needed electives, so it sounded like a good place to spend three hours per week. In addition, maybe I'd find somebody there I liked, as we probably already had similar interests.

For the first month or so, the class was going great. The instructor was a hoot. The tests weren't all that hard, and it was just fun to talk about something I already liked. Then that day I will never forget. The instructor was discussing the chemical makeup of semen and just in passing, mentioned its salinity level. My hand shot up, and before he could even call on me, I shouted, "Is that why it tastes salty?"

You should have heard the roar of the class. Even the instructor couldn't keep a straight face. I turned just about every shade of red you can imagine. And finally, the instructor just had to dismiss the class. There was no way to restore order after that. The only good thing to come from it was that I suddenly was one of the most popular girls on campus.

That summer, I decided to sign up for summer classes, and as the forty-two-mile roundtrip every day to and from home was starting to get monotonous, I finally moved out. I liked living at home. I liked Dale, and Mom had gotten used to treating me as an adult. But they needed their space, i.e., privacy, and so did I.

I moved into an apartment with two other girls not far from campus. All three of us were students, and we all got along fine. The only issue was that in our two-bedroom apartment, Krissy had a room to herself, and April and I shared the other room. April was a Cinema major, so we had a lot in common. But Krissy was pre-law, and though she was nice, April and I had little interaction with her. She rarely hung out with us, and when she was home, she generally stayed in her room.

I picked up nine credit hours that summer (three courses), so when the fall semester came around, I didn't sign up for a full load. In effect, I became a part-time student, leading me to spend more time over the hill in Hollywood. Plus, as I was now paying rent, I had to start earning a little money.

I had always heard the legend that Lana Turner was discovered sitting at the soda fountain in Schwab's Drugstore. And though there could have been some truth to the story. No screenwriter could have written it better. When destiny called, Lana was just minding her own business having a Coke. And her discovery became proof that Hollywood was a place of mystery and magic where a schoolgirl could become a screen legend.

I knew the story was likely exaggerated, but it was still intriguing. So, if it could happen to Lana Turner, then maybe it could happen to me. Schwab's Pharmacy, the Owl Drugstore, and the Top Hat Soda Fountain, all likely places where the actual event occurred, are now just relics of a bygone era. However, Hollywood Boulevard and the Sunset Strip are still very much there. And the intersection of Hollywood and Vine is still the center of the movie industry. So, I needed to make myself as available as possible if I was to ever be discovered.