Gateway Ch. 03

"Lubricating juice. My pussy wants you. It's my body's way of getting ready for you. When I am excited to be with a man, that happens. My nipples get hard and sensitive. My clit enlarges with blood flow and becomes very sensitive. My chest and face flush with blood." He glances at me. He is more comfortable. "Smell it." He lifts his finger to his nose. "Taste it. Lick some off." He warily looks at me but put out his tongue, smiles, then presses the finger between his lips.

As if evaluating a wine, his tongue moves over his lips. "It's different ... but good."

I take his face in my hands and kiss him. Our first. He hasn't had much experience with that, either. I do it more and his lips relax, reflect what he feels from my lips, and duplicates it. I press my body into him, his hands moving around me under the parted gown. His hands move over the bare skin of my back and down to my butt. He's relaxing. Soon, my mouth opens for my tongue to press at his lips and they open in response. It isn't long before I pull my tongue back and he follows into my mouth. Everything is clumsy but as he relaxes it becomes better.

I part us, "I mentioned my clit ... my clitoris. Do you know what that is?" He shakes his head. There is less embarrassment, now more open intrigue and curiosity. "Let me show you."

A shiver ripples through me. I thought exposure like walking around in a sheer gown was thrilling? Lost in lust with the other boys watching us last night? Stone sober and fully aware ... the shiver increases to a blushing shudder.

I step back to the sofa, sit on the edge of the cushion, lean back, and spread my legs wide with the gown fully open to expose my entire body front. I reach my hands out to him and he kneels between my legs. As he does, my hands caress up the insides of my thighs to my pussy. I rub my pussy, a finger disappearing inside as he gets into position. His eyes are on my trimmed pussy. I use two fingers to pull back the clitoris hood and expose that pleasure button.

"This is the clit. It's just a little nub. Scientists say they can find no known purpose for it except to provide pleasure. On the inside, opposite it, there is another. It is called the g-spot. It is also very stimulating. We'll get to that one another time." He looked up from his kneeling position with a smile that bespoke both excitement and curiosity. I intended to project to him the idea that this was not going to be a one and only time. He didn't have to learn everything now. I think he was believing me.

"Go ahead ... touch it. Touch my pussy lips, locate my hole. Explore me. This is where you'll fuck me."

His fingers began sliding over my pussy. Feeling my clit, feeling the moisture of my pussy. One finger was soon back in my pussy, then a second.

"It's so warm and wet inside." He spoke softly as if pondering it. "Is it always like this?"

"No," I gasped. This was very nice. "My body and pussy are reacting to you. When I get excited ... sexually ... my pussy lubricates in preparation for being penetrated."

He slides a third finger into me and a glint is in his eye. "So ... your body wants to be penetrated now?"

I sigh, then release a soft moan. "Right now ... no." He looks sharply up into my face. I smile back to him through another moan as his three fingers slide in and out. "No ... I don't want to be JUST penetrated. What I want ... need ... is to be fucked." A smile, a huge smile, forms on his face. "I want to see you now. Take off your clothes so I can see you."

In the next instant, his clothes were gone with a fuzziness of his outline that lasted only in that instant. There was no unbuttoning and opening and pulling ... they were just gone. I giggled at that. It was something that might take some repetition to get used to. I made him move by my own effort to stand up. We stood in front of each other. He was several inches taller, about midway between my height and Jacob's. Although thin, his body showed tightness from being used to working physically. His cock was hard and stood proudly in the air in front of him. When he saw me looking at it, he got embarrassed, and shy, and began covering it. I stopped him.

"Don't ... you've looked at me ... I get to look at you." I flash him the same reassuring smile. My next words seem to help, too. I place my palm on the underside of it and gently wrapped my fingers over it. "I like your cock. It's beautiful." And, it was. I don't know why, but it was. It wasn't as big as Jacob's but how much bigger would I like a cock? This one was seven or eight inches, which is still a good-sized cock. Heck, inches bigger than my ex. And it had good thickness.

I realized suddenly that during my musings, my fingers were stroking up and down his cock. I released his cock and it continued to stand there tall and proud as if it hopes for more of my touch. I was beyond just excited by this. I needed to be fucked. What was with me? I find a group of ghosts in my house, young men who died over 150 years ago, and I am suddenly intent on turning them into my own private stable of studs? I am acting like a hussy, a slut, an unashamed sex addict.

I shrug off the gown from my shoulders. I feel its softness slide down my back and arms to pool at my feet behind me. We are both naked completely now and I pull him into my body, his young hard brown body pressed into my mature, softer, pale white body. My breasts and erect nipple press into his chest. I sigh as I feel that and his hard cock pressing into my abdomen. My hands are behind him, on his butt, and they pull him harder into me. His hands are gliding over my back. I put my lips on his and we both moan as our kiss turns lusty and frantic, consuming.

Panting for breath and a modicum of control, I take his hand and lead him upstairs to my bedroom. I can feel his hand in mine but my high heels are the only sound on the hardwood treads. With everything else I was feeling, meeting a new ghost to fuck, I hadn't paid attention. I look down and back. Yes, no feet and ankles. Will I ever get used to that?

That is only a momentary distraction, though. Whether he was walking or gliding over the floor, I led him into my bedroom which was ready for us. I released his hand and kicked off my heels as I approached the bed. I stopped just short of the bed and turned to face him. I gave him a quick kiss as my hand rubbed his hard cock. His hands came to my breasts, but I quickly sank to my knees in front of him. His hard, erect cock is in front of my face. I look up at him with a lusty smile, pull his cock down, part my lips, and take the head into my mouth. I hear him gasp and moan as I do and proceed to slide my mouth along more of his cock until all of it is inside. I feel it at the entrance of my throat. I make a swallow action and feel my throat massage the head of his cock.

I pull my mouth off his cock, look up at him, kiss the head as he watches, and rise to stand with my body sliding up along his, my breasts pressing into him until my abdomen is pressing his hard cock slick with my saliva between our bodies. I can feel his cock pulse and twitch between our bodies. How long will he last? A virgin ghost in my bed. Fantasy and dreams but ... reality? Yet, here we are.

I back against the edge of the bed and crawl up onto it, my hand holding his for him to join me. The bed sags under us and I look. His knees press down into the bed surface as I take a position in the center of the bed, my head on the pillows. I raise my knees and spread them wide. He is kneeling at my feet; his eyes are on a journey up my body; he might be having difficulty believing he has the opportunity to have what is before him. Yet, I am all his. My own hands slide down my body onto my pussy where I spend a moment rubbing, spreading the lips to expose my ready and needy hole, slick with my lubrication. I put out my hands to him. He crawls forward between my feet and legs. I watch his hard cock bobbing underneath him, pointing his way to me. My second ghost cock. It felt good in my mouth. Now, I want it in my pussy, too. Nothing could prepare me for what I am experiencing. Nothing could logically make sense of it. So, I don't try, I just am accepting it and will let my mind wrestle with it in quieter moments of the day.

With him leaning over me, I stretch my head up to kiss him. "Are you ready?" He nods. His face reflects the emotions crashing together inside him: nervousness, some fear of performance, wonder, delight, and a sense of discovery, maybe of finally, after 170 or so years, of 'becoming a man'. I take hold of his cock and guide it to my pussy. As I move the head over my slit until it is at my hole, "Just let it happen. Do what feels natural. There is no wrong way. For this first time, just allow yourself to feel it and experience it. The next time ...", I smile up to him, "... the next time will be even better."

He mutters, "The next time ..." And he flexes his hips forward, driving his cock into me halfway. I partially open my mouth to release a sigh and smile up at him in reassurance. He flexes and repositions himself with his cock deeper inside. With his cock deep, he shudders and groans. I doubt he will last long but it doesn't matter. He is young. He will recuperate quickly.

He thrusts into me with youthful energy and all the awkwardness of the first time. After only a minute or so I can already tell he is closing in on a climax. I clamp my pussy around his cock when he drives in deep and feel his cock swelling and pulsing. I whisper to him to let it happen, to go with the sensations, to let his body feel it all. His eyes are clamped tight and his mouth is parted, his breath coming in ragged gasps and panting. His arms and legs spasm as he thrusts hard and stops with his cock pressed deep inside. I pull him into my embrace and hold his shaking body. I can feel his cock jerking and pulsing as I squeeze around it. I know he is in the midst of a climax. I can feel it in every way except there is no cum. It just feels strange but as long as I lubricate like this ...

When his body settled and his breathing relaxed, I pushed him over to his back and slip down his body, kissing it as I do. I took his cock into my mouth. It is slick with my juices. He didn't last nearly long enough for my own orgasm to generate but the amount of lubrication I am creating is interesting. The flow is much more than before but this might be more a reflection of my arousal in this strange situation. It occurs to me that I am tasting myself, not him. I have never experimented with another woman but I find the taste pleasant and welcome.

My mind is refocused when I feel his cock changing. It never went completely soft in my mouth but now it was definitely becoming harder, swelling, and lengthening. I kneel up and swing a leg over his hips. I grasp his hardened cock, and aligned it to my pussy. I gazed down into his face. "I told you there would be more ...", and I sat back, sinking his cock into my pussy. He returned a smile back to me and reached his arms up. I accepted by leaning forward, letting him take me into an embrace and kiss. As I did, though, my hips began moving up and down, sliding along his cock. He groaned into my mouth and I did into his.

He recovered quickly as I hoped and I knew this time it would be longer. I fucked him like this for many minutes. I repositioned myself to sitting over his hips, raising and lowering myself on his cock. His hands became active fondling my bouncing breasts and rolling my nipples. I bounced on him more energetically, his cock going deeper than before. Then, I stopped. With his cock deep in me, I appraised him and pull up off his cock. I change to my hands and knees with my ass facing him.

I look over my shoulder, "Take me from behind."

He scrambles up to his knees. I feel his hands on my ass and hips. I spread my knees further as I feel his slick cock head moving over my pussy. He thrusts deep inside on the first thrust and I smile. That's my boy, I think. Already gaining confidence. He thrusts hard and strong into me. I am groaning and gasping and moaning in response to fucking that will bring me to orgasm. I utter, "Breasts", and he leans over me to take a swinging breast in his hand while the other stays on my hip. Then, without leading him, he leans onto me, and his free hand slides underneath and between my legs. He strokes me there. I gasp, "Yes ... oh God ... yes ... my ... clit ..."

He does. He attacks my clit and I feel my orgasm swelling inside me. I also feel his cock swelling, again. I have an idea, even in my hazy mind.

"Pull out."

He's confused but does what I say. I grab his hand and pull him with me off the bed. I go the open French doors to the balcony. I lean over the railing with my feet spread wide. We are illuminated by the moon overhead. I reach back to him.

"Take me now. We are both close. I want to share our orgasms out here for the world to see how you pleasure me. Fuck me, please." In the next moment, his cock slams into me after grazing off the side of my thigh and through my lips. "YES ... FUCK ME!" I call out to him and he responds. He drives hard and deep into me. He resumes what he learned moments before by leaning onto me to take one breast in his hand and stroke my clitoris with the other. "OH GOD ... oh yes ... you are good."

It was calculated to crush his insecurity with the others. I was sure the other boys were out there somewhere. My eyes even searched but, of course, spotted nothing in the darkness. I howled out my orgasm, perhaps a bit louder than naturally, but nonetheless real. He grunted behind me as he drove in deep and spasmed at the same moment my own body quivered and shook. My knees felt weak but I was pressed over the solid railing. We both groaned out our orgasms but I knew the seepage escaping around his cock was only my own abundant juice.

After recovering enough to stand on my own, I took him back inside to the bed. I held him and asked him to stay with me. I dozed but when I woke sometime later, he was still in my arms. I asked him to fuck me, again. He did. The wonders of youth. And, there were seven of them. Oh, God ...

I was taking one a night. One every night after Jacob and I started all this. One a night and each night was more than one orgasm and fucking for me. Could I keep this up? After a couple nights, I am consumed with erotic thoughts as my mind remembers past nights and anticipates the next. Each has been different. After the experienced Jacob, it was the virgin Lupe. The next seemed to be in-between. This was the fifth night, Jacob being the first.

I tried to focus on my writing. I have recently, though, lost sight of the general direction and plot of this novel. Instead, I find myself furiously capturing in great detail my experiences of the past nights including several of my masturbation sessions just before encountering Jacob. My mornings are consumed with trying to capture the previous night's events, feelings, and impressions of the young man. Then, I retreat to my bedroom where I masturbate to relieve the built-up tension. I considered calling one of the boys ... that would be possible ... I want to stay on the routine, though. Who knows what will happen after I have gotten through each of the boys? One week and seven young men ... what am I turning into? But I have never felt so sensual and the erotic detail of my writing ... it's masturbating material if you don't have seven young men available.

I find myself stressing about what to wear tonight. For four nights I have done similar things: sheer gowns with sheer panties. Each night after Jacob and after meeting the other boys I find myself feeling a sense of anticipation as I go down those stairs to see who is waiting for me. Each night is wonderful. Something is feeling different about this night. What? I have no idea.

I stand in my closet looking over my selection of nightgowns, some I have added in the past few days. My eyes settle on a sheer white baby doll. It, too, ties just below the breasts and is intended to be worn with panties because of the way it gaps at the bottom. I slip into the baby doll but leave the sheer panties behind. I slip into a pair of white high heels and consider my reflection in the full-length mirror. It's obscene. My pussy is clearly visible. I finish the glass of wine I brought up earlier, check the bedroom and, satisfied it is as I need it for later, I step out into the hall and turn for the stairs.

As I descend the stairway to the bottom and pass through the entry, I can feel heightened anticipation to find out which of the boys is waiting for me this night. When I enter the living room and see a large black young man, my excitement spikes and it occurs to me that I have been unconsciously awaiting this. Samuel. The one who is actually more imposing physically than Jacob. It isn't that Samuel is much taller but he is larger. He is wider and beefier, but I can also see he is still a solid young man. He is large but large like a defensive end as opposed to an offensive lineman. He is also very black with short nappy hair. I am, by now, used to seeing the boys in the same past century era work clothing. It was what they wore at the time they died.

"Samuel."

He had been roaming looking at the pictures on the mantel when I entered the room. He was fully formed when I entered and turned quickly. "Ma'am ....", his voice seemed to catch in mid-exclamation. "Wow ..." He seemed to get embarrassed then. "Sorry, Ma'am ... I ... shouldn't stare ... but ... WOW."

I giggle as I step up to him. The reaction from them has been consistently somewhat like this. Despite anticipating what would be happening, the reality of seeing me prepared to be with them has still been surprising to them. In all honesty, I am still not quite believing it myself ... still.

I find the initial reaction and early encounter to be telling about the young man. Most have been shy and awkward. Some, like young Lupe, were awkward almost to the point of not being able to act, leaving me to pull them along. Jacob, of course, had been watching me and gained his confidence. I expected Samuel to be like Jacob at the first meeting but he exhibited the same shyness as the others. In reflection, though, it shouldn't have been a surprise as it is a reflection of their reluctance to use my name and to use 'Ma'am'. I also found I liked that. It provided me with a feeling of control of the situation. And, a woman alone with seven young men needs some control.

His eyes traveled over my body as I stepped toward him. I knew my breasts jiggled under the sheer fabric and my pussy was clearly exposed without the panties. Seeing his eyes hungrily focused on my pussy made me glad I had chosen to leave the panties upstairs.

"You're beautiful, Ma'am."

I kissed his cheek in greeting and pressed my breasts into his rough shirt. "You've seen me naked before, Samuel."

"Ah ... um ... yes, Ma'am, but ... it was dark then ... and ... there was a lot ... to watch then, too."

I giggled, "Yes," and blushed at the memory of fucking Jacob at the time they all appeared before me. "Yes, indeed ... a lot was happening. I suppose that and seeing all of you before I started all this." He just looked at me but his eyes kept drifting over my exposed body. I smiled. He was less reluctant to be caught looking. There was a lot of confidence in this young man. Similar to Jacob. So, I wasn't far off in my early judgment. "Tell me something, Samuel ... have you had experience with women?"

He looks back from my body to my face with a tight smile. "Yes, Ma'am."

"A white woman by chance?"

"No, Ma'am", while shaking his head. "Not back then, Ma'am."

"Good, I can be your first, then." He nods. It didn't require a response but he gave one, anyway. I take one of his hands and put it on my bare hip. "Samuel, I am probably twice your age." His eyes left the hand on my hip and focuses on my face. "Am I too old?" Another shake of his head. I didn't do this with the others. The age difference wasn't brought up but I was curious how Samuel would respond to my teasing. "Prove it, dear."