Track Meet in Purgatory Ch. 01

She seemed to enjoy what we were doing: She moaned again into my mouth as she pressed her body against me. Eventually, we broke from our kiss and she moaned again. "Oh, Jase!" she whispered, "that's so good! I really like feeling your hand on my boob!"

I slid my hand sideways a bit, until I could grasp her nipple between my thumb and my index finger. Immediately, instinctively, I began to knead the little lump of flesh.

"That's even better!" she breathed. And, reaching for my lips again, she pleaded, "Kiss me again, Jase!"

I thought that was a very good idea, and we engaged in another of those heart-stopping kisses as I explored that hemisphere of naked flesh. In return, her hand had dropped from my face and now explored my neck and, through my own jacket, my chest. Our mutual touching brought me welcome sensations—sensations that I had not known I could have. My cock stiffened fully in response.

When we broke from that kiss, she asked, "Is your dick still hard, Jase?"

"Harder than ever," I replied. "Kissing you and touching you makes it get really hard!"

"Kissing you and touching you and having you touch me makes my pussy get hot and wet," she said. She wiggled in close, and I held her tightly with the arm that wasn't engaged in exploring her tit. Her hand moved from my face, where it had continued to caress me, down to my chest. Then, tentatively, it began to move down across my belly. "I've never felt a boy's dick. Can I… Can I touch it?" she asked.

"Sure," I answered. "That sounds really good! Can I…" I paused, and started to move my exploring hand, tentatively, too, from her tit toward her mound, where it pressed against my thigh.

"…touch my pussy?" she finished for me. She hummed a little moan and continued, "Yeah! I think I'd like that!" As she spoke, she rolled her lower body away from me a bit, making some space between her mound and the thigh she'd had it pressed against.

We reached together for another kiss, and our lips welcomed each other again as we each fumbled in the pitch darkness, blindly, one-handed, with the drawstring that held the other's warm-up pants on. Both knots came undone at the same time, and we both reached inside. Her hand must have been chilly, but I was in such a state that I didn't even notice that aspect of her touch against the skin of my lower belly as, together, we each sought what we had so long forgotten was there—the center of the other's sexuality.

She, too, I learned then, had taken off her underwear when she'd gotten out of her wet clothing, and my fingers quested through a thicket of short, wiry curls in search of her cleft. I found my goal just as her hand began to explore my rod, which throbbed its response. At my touch, her hips rocked a bit, driving my fingers deeper between her outer lips so that they grazed her clit. She rocked her hips even more strongly at that, and she moaned again into my mouth as our tongues played with each other.

My understanding of girls' anatomy was purely theoretical, being based on what I'd learned from those sex ed classes, from furtive reading in hidden corners of school and public libraries, and from what I'd seen in some porn videos I'd found on the internet when no parents were at home. So I did know what I was touching and why it felt so hot, so wet, and so slippery. I knew what and where her clitoris was, and where her entrance should be. So I recognized those things when I encountered them for the first time on her body—the body of a living, breathing girl. But her pussy seemed much more complicated than I had ever imagined—wondrously more complicated. And I lost myself in new sensations—the feel of her mouth on mine, the touch of her hand on my cock, and the wet, slick, warmth of her pussy against my fingers.

Our kiss ended, and she moaned. Her voice thick with emotion, she breathed, "Jason! Your dick feels so hot… and so hard… It feels so good to touch it. But it's so big! Do you think it will fit into someone? Without hurting her?"

"I think I'm pretty average," I answered. "Other guys don't look very different from me. At least in the locker room." And, as I answered her, I suddenly realized how very much I wanted, at that moment, to fit my cock into someone.

"Do you really think so?" she asked. "It feels like it's as big as the ones I've seen in porn on the Web."

I was flattered, but, "Oh, shit!" I said. "Those guys are huge! I'm nothing like that! If you could see it…"

And then it sank in; Lynne had watched internet porn! "Wait!" I went on. "You mean you've watched…" I let the question hang.

"You must have watched it, too, or you couldn't say that those guys' dicks are 'huge'," she replied.

"Well, yeah," I offered, "but I'm a b…" And, realizing, in the nick of time, what I was about to say, I chopped it off.

"You're a what?" she asked. I couldn't see her expression, but there was a dangerous tone in her voice. "A boy? Girls can't watch what boys watch?" Meanwhile, she'd wrapped her hand around my cock and was stroking gently: Up; down; up; down…

Distracting as the action of her hand was, I recognized the tone in her voice and I backpedaled frantically. "Uhh! I didn't say it!" I pointed out. "I started to but as it was about to come out, I realized how wrong I was. I'm sorry I even thought it! Of course girls can do anything that boys can!" My own hand continued to explore, stroking what I found.

She moaned before saying, "You're doing something now that I don't think I'd especially want a girl to do. It feels so nice!" The dangerous tone was gone.

"I like touching you there," I said. "And I like the way you're touching me. I'm glad—really glad—that you're a girl!"

She moaned again. "And I'm glad you're a boy!" she said as she reached for still another kiss. Our lips connected again; our hands continued their explorations. Her hips continued their gentle rocking.

Several deep kisses later, she pulled back a bit from me. "I want to sit on you and feel your dick against me," she said, "…against my pussy!" She gave my cock a last squeeze and left it against my lower belly, pointing up toward my bellybutton. She pulled her hand out of my pants and moved to straddle me.

I didn't really want to stop fingering her, but she'd just suggested a pretty interesting experiment. So I pulled my hand out of her warm-ups and scooted my ass forward to make room for her knees.

Placing both hands around her little waist, I helped her center herself over me; she lowered her body so that her mound settled on the bulge in my warm-ups, trapping my cock between my belly and her pussy. And suddenly, I was very aware that only two thicknesses of fleece separated my cock from her pussy.

Immediately, she began to rock against me, and a low moan escaped from her. "That really feels good!" she exclaimed. "You really feel good!"

"It does feel good!" I agreed. "Really good!" I was breathing raggedly now, and my own hips rocked in response to hers as I slid my hands under her jacket again in search of her naked boobs. I guess that one of my hands was still pretty chilly, but this time she didn't seem to mind.

She rested her hands on my shoulders as she rubbed herself against me, and she leaned into me for still another kiss. Joyfully, our tongues danced with each other, and we both moaned anew. Our rubbing continued as I touched and caressed her naked tits. Quietly, then, we lay against each other, rocking gently, lost in ourselves and each other.

The way her pussy rubbed against my cock through our fleece pants made me think of the warmth and moisture—the hot slipperiness—my fingers had found a few minutes earlier, and when we broke that kiss, I said, "I want to feel you against me like this without our pants in the way."

Her lips pressed against mine again, briefly, and withdrew. She moaned in reply and said, "Yeah! That would be so hot!" And she stood up beside me. In the darkness, I heard her taking off her warm-up pants.

As I lowered my own pants to mid-thigh, exposing my boner to the chill night air, an idea came to me. "I'm going to turn and move a little away from the rock, so we'll have more room," I said. And I did just that, leaving about a foot between me and the back of our alcove.

She found me in the darkness, lying in my new position, and she straddled me again. As she lowered herself to her knees over me, one of her hands grasped my cock and stroked it several times. Then she hinged it upward against my belly. And the cleft of her pussy descended to cradle my length, trapping cock against belly and transmitting the warmth and moisture of her feminine treasure to me. I found her waist again with my hands, and, as I did, she began to rock her hips.

Her furrow delivered hot, wet, slick friction as she slid along the bottom and the sides of my cock, and I moaned at the new sensations. She seemed to like what we were doing, too; she moaned in concert with me. And, as we moaned together, I found the bottom of her jacket and slid my hands upward under it to capture her boobs again.

She leaned forward once more, and pressed her lips against my own. We moaned into each other's mouths again as our tongues re-engaged. By the time we ended that kiss, both of us were breathing heavily and unevenly. She slid her hands under my shoulders, placed her head on my shoulder, and began to plant little kisses on my neck. Her hips kept rocking, and I kept exploring the hemispheres of naked flesh under her jacket.

Desire built in me as she continued to slide, back and forth, back and forth, against me. My pressing need for her grew, increased, until I blurted, "Lynne, I really want to… to …" In spite of the passion that nearly overpowered me, I couldn't quite say what I wanted.

I didn't need to; she knew. "I want to, too!" she replied. "I want to feel you inside me! I want it so much! Do you think we should?"

I wanted her, more than I'd ever wanted anything, but a spark of sanity still glowed deep inside me, and I answered her, "I don't know, Lynne! You're my friend! My best friend! I don't want to hurt you! And I don't want to get you pregnant!"

She chuckled as she raised her upper body, keeping her pussy against my cock. She wiggled against me, and then she raised her hips, allowing my cock to stand away from my body. I stroked down along her sides to her waist as she found and grasped my cock. She slid my crown, several times, along her hot, slippery cleft; and then she guided it back, so that my tip engaged the hot wet cavity of her entrance. She paused just long enough to ask, "What are best friends for, if not for this?" And she lowered herself.

Slippery wet heat enveloped the whole length of my cock, clasping it tightly, tightly, and I groaned as her pubic bone came to rest on mine. It was like nothing I had ever felt before. "Oh, shit!" The words seemed to form themselves in my mouth. "Lynne! You feel so good!"

She groaned in response and replied, "You stretch me so! You feel wonderful inside me!" As she said it, her sheath momentarily tightened its hold.

I moaned in response to that clasping grip, and my cock throbbed inside her. "You're making me throb!" I told her. "It's so good! I've never felt anything like this before!"

"Shit!" she exclaimed. "It felt like you grew inside me!" And she began rocking her hips very gently. She barely moved, and, in spite of the powerful sensations that slight motion of her channel brought me, I could tell that she was rubbing her clit against me where it was pressed between our bodies.

Her gentle motion made me want something more robust; I began rocking my own hips in rhythm with her, drawing my cock in and out of her, back and forth, in and out, back and forth, in and…

"Oh, Jase!" she cried. "That's so…" She trailed off as her own motion intensified.

I was beyond words myself, as I plunged into her, withdrew, plunged again, continued. We found our rhythm and pounded ourselves relentlessly against each other. The wet, hot, sliding friction of her sheath wrapped around me demanded all of my awareness. Our moans and groans became euphoric shouts and whoops of pleasure as our bodies responded joyfully to each other.

Sublime pressure grew, and I could think only of the forces that her body had awakened inside me—the forces that were converging within my groin. Soon, soon, I knew, they would release themselves—and me—in a shattering explosion, and I sought that release with all of my energy.

I teetered on the brink! "Lynne!" I shouted. "Lynne! I'm going to come! You have to get off!" I could still think, barely, about the possibility of pregnancy.

She continued to pump, furiously, single-mindedly. "No!" she grunted. "I want you to come inside me!" I tried to lever her off of me. Tried and failed! She yelled, almost frantic, herself, as her own climax began: "It's okay! Trust me!"

We each surrendered then to our own desires and to the other's—and to the swelling tides of paroxysm and emotion. Ecstasy engulfed me! She collapsed onto me, shuddering and convulsing in her own ecstasy as we rammed our lower bodies together in a final stroke. My self flowed into hers, while her self enfolded mine, and we were, at long last and for real, together.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A period of timeless awareness of nothing but self, spent but not exhausted, passed: I was who I was and nothing else existed. Then awareness expanded to encompass things outside of self, and I began to regain control of mind and body.

She lay on me, face down, still writhing, her arms folded between us. My first volitional act was to slide my hands upward from where they rested on her hips, upward under her jacket, along the smooth warm skin of her back. She was shuddering in the throes of her orgasm, and her body transmitted its internal clamor to me through her sheath, which contracted rhythmically about the cock it still enveloped, still caressed with her random movements. I held her tightly with one arm and stroked gently with the other hand, as my breath returned.

Her head rested on my shoulder, and, as she subsided, I kissed her forehead gently, repeatedly. Soon, she raised her head purposefully. Moaning gently, she reached for my lips with her own; we kissed. It was a gentle kiss, in which we each thanked the other for what we, together again, together at last, had just given ourselves.

When the kiss ended, she put her head back on my shoulder. She unfolded her arms from where they rested between our bodies, and stroked gently, repeatedly, up and down my sides. I continued to hold her and stroke her back. Silently, we communed with each other, enjoying our bodies' closeness, and their lingering connection.

As we lay there, I realized that I could see her and our refuge, though very dimly. The moon had risen while we were otherwise occupied, and in its cloud-filtered light I could also see parts of the canyon outside our alcove.

At length, she whispered, "Jase, I'm really glad we did that!"

"I am, too, Lynne," I answered. "It was wonderful! You were wonderful! But I shouldn't have come inside you. I hope I didn't make you pregnant." Now that I remembered, I started to worry about that.

"I guess there's a chance," she replied, "but it's really a long shot. If I am, we'll deal with it."

I knew that she was right about the latter. If she was pregnant, we would deal with it. After all, we'd spent our lives doing things together. But that didn't diminish my worry. "I know we'll deal with it together," I replied. "But what do you mean 'really a long shot'?" We continued our mutual stroking, each rejoicing in the other's touch.

"Trust me, Nerd," she said. "Who's the biology expert here? I know my cycle pretty well, and I shouldn't ovulate for another ten days. So it really is a long shot."

"Gotcha, Nerdette," I answered. I did trust her, and I'd been through those sex ed classes, so I knew what the word "ovulate" means. A wave of relief passed through me.

She reached for another kiss, which I was more than happy to share with her. My cock was softening inside her now, but that didn't keep me from feeling her channel's contractions as we kissed.

After the kiss and some more stroking, she asked, "Do you know what they call couples who depend on the Rhythm Method for birth control?"

I thought for a moment, and then I admitted, "No…"

"They call them 'parents'!" she replied. "I'm going to start on the Pill as soon as we get home!"

There was a promise implicit in that statement, and I picked up on it right away. "You mean…"

"Yup! That's what I mean. We both just learned that we've each had a love life for a long time! Even though we didn't know it! What neither of us had was a sex life!"

She was right! Again! The epiphany stunned me! Her words had struck a Chinese gong inside my skull, and the reverberation filled my head with tumult.

But the revelation filled my heart with joy! And that joy was as much for her, as for me.

"Lynne," I murmured. The light from the moon was a bit stronger now, and I could see, but barely, her eyes as she raised her head to look at me. Looking into the shadows that were her eyes, eyes that I knew smiled at me, I said, "I love you!"

Her voice smiled at me, too, as she replied, "I know! And I love you, Jason!"

And I found that, just as she had known that I loved her, I knew that she loved me.

I reached for her lips again, and, again, we kissed lengthily and deeply. Again, her contractions made it really interesting, but I continued to shrink inside her. Evidently, I was done for the night.

"Jase?" she said, when our mouths parted again. "My legs and my butt are getting pretty chilly. I think I'd better put my pants back on."

"Yeah, you'd better!" I agreed, reluctantly. And she stood up, releasing my cock from her body's clasp.

We found the wet shirts we'd set aside when we changed, and we used them as cold (very cold!) washrags to clean ourselves up a bit before restoring our pants to their more customary positions. I resumed my seat against the boulder at the back of our alcove, and she placed herself against me again. We still had a long night to get through, and our bodies' heat was still precious—though now we had even more reason than that to share it.

(To be continued.)

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