Loving Yvonne

She gave three or four hard shoves, and her penis pulsed in my tight clasp. Her breath escaped in a barely-vocalized "ahhhhhh," and her penis began flooding my bowels with hot fluid.

Her hand on my cock never faltered. I came, and my muscles contracted so strongly the geyser of Yvonne's sperm was nearly stifled. I could feel the spurts fighting through my tightness.

"Uhhhhhh," I groaned. "Uhhhhh..."

She filled me to capacity and beyond. When she pulled her cork out of me, her sperm flowed out like an opened beer keg. I moaned again, softly, at the feeling. I closed my eyes and luxuriated in it.

"Uh-oh," her voice came to me from a distance. "Got poop on my thing." She didn't sound terribly upset. She sounded tired and happy. The shower restarted and I heard scrubbing sounds. Then a warm washcloth rubbed my sore and well-used asshole. She removed the washcloth and pressed her lips between my cheeks in a brief, fond kiss.

I somehow lumbered to my feet and we clumsily embraced on rubber legs. Then we used up most of Yvonne's body wash cleaning the rest of our sweaty, sex-pungent bodies.

~~~

Yvonne put on a robe to help me collect my long-dry clothes from the dryer. Her penis, I noticed, had finally softened to half its erect size, and swung about, limp and content. She saw me to the door and we kissed goodbye like lovers.

"I thought I was gonna be lonely out here," she said, running her fingers through my freshly-shampooed hair. "It's been really nice to meet you, Marty."

I grinned goofily. "You too, Yvonne." I turned to go, and paused.

"What's up?" she asked me.

"It's just...I don't even know your last name." I said. "Mine's Wozniak."

Yvonne smiled at me. "Loving," she said. "Yvonne Loving."

~~~

I walked home on a cloud that day. For the rest of that summer, Yvonne and I would meet up in the woods at that big log. Its thick mossy blanket served us well as a mattress. If Yvonne's parents weren't around, we would play at her house. After, we would take long showers together. When we weren't screwing like minks, we dated and hung out like normal teenagers. We found we got along well even when we weren't having sex. Talking to Yvonne, putting my thoughts into words, I discovered an equanimity within myself I never knew before. I calmed down and stopped caring about staying below everyone else's radar. I stopped caring what anyone else thought, period, including my parents.

Oddly, even though we could have the most outrageous sex imaginable whenever we wanted (and often did), one of our favorite things was just hanging out in Yvonne's room, reading her porn magazines and jacking off together. Sometimes we'd move on to other kinds of sex, but often we'd just masturbate each other. We still do it to this day. I guess we like re-living the day we met.

Naturally, I couldn't keep the fact that I now had a girlfriend from my parents. I won't bore you with the arguments that ensued, but suffice to say they didn't much care for the new me. I didn't give a shit. I had found an unflappable core and they couldn't sway it. I sometimes smile when I think about the heart attacks they would have if they knew about Yvonne's penis.

I wound up moving out just before the start of my last year in high school. I moved into Randy's old room at Yvonne's house. Mr. and Mrs. Loving turned out to be as cool as advertised by their daughter. I kept my job in town -- I insisted on paying the Lovings at least a nominal rent -- and completed my senior courses via correspondence. With Yvonne's tutoring, I pulled straight A's.

Yvonne and I still screw like minks and once my future is secured, I intend to marry her. Loving Yvonne is kinkier, more depraved, and at the same time more wholesome and pure than any relationship I ever imagined for myself. I plan on enjoying her for as long as she'll have me.