Weekend at Samantha's

Oh yeah, that's the stuff, stroke my pussy, she thought, wrapping her lips round the tip of his cock and sucking the precum from under his foreskin. God, how she loved the taste of cum. She gently stroked the cock as she licked at the head, making it slippery so she could draw back the skin to reveal the sensitive head beneath. She made love to his cock while he teased at her g-spot and clit, making her quiver. He had such a great touch. But her need was raw, she needed to taste his load, had been dreaming of nothing else all week. She needed a better angle to get him in, and to watch his face, so she slid to the floor and knelt between his legs, pulling down his chinos and boxers.

Paul looked down at her, not quite believing this was happening to him. The hottest girl in class was on her knees for him, sucking his cock, looking into his eyes. She took her hand and started massaging his balls and the base of his cock as she worked her mouth over the head and shaft, bobbing her head up and down, taking him deeper as she met her hand with her lips. The movement set her boobs swinging, and he watched them hang in the black lace bra, the gold chain swinging back and forth and bouncing off the soft flesh.

"God, I love cock," she said, watching his face. He had no idea how to respond to that; he just watched the most private part of him vanishing into her warm wet mouth, soft pouted lips clamped round his shaft, tongue working magic round the tip and along the sensitive spot under the head. "Mmmm, come for me, give it to me, I want it so bad."

It was like she was talking directly to his balls, and they were eager to oblige. He filled her mouth with his thick seed, euphoria washing over him. "Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod," he repeated, as pulse after pulse shot through his cock and pasted onto her tongue. Her eyes smiled back up at him as she let his softening member slip from her lips. She showed him the milky fluid washing over her tongue, then made a big show of swallowing.

"Yummy," she said. The lemonade had worked its magic, he did taste great. And what a load! Sure, it was probably his first BJ and he must have wanted her to do that for years. But it was more intense than she'd expected of the class nerd, the wimp. She was just starting to learn there was so much more to him than that.

"Wow. Thank you, thank you," he said, still catching his breath. "I love you; I know what you said before, but I do, I love you so much it hurts. Now I can die happy."

"Please don't. We've got the whole weekend; it'd be a shame to waste it." She sat back up on the sofa and let him pull his pants back on. She could see his face was glowing, truly happy. She loved that she could make him feel that way. "I've been wanting to do that since the plane. I do love sucking cock, and I think I'm pretty fucking good at it, so if you're gonna be my boyfriend you'll just have to get used to it. I take it that's not gonna be a problem?"

In answer, he pulled her face to his and kissed her deeply. Wow, no guy has been so keen to follow his cum into my mouth before, she thought; my exes would have been grossed out by the idea. It raised some interesting and dirty possibilities in her mind...

She heard a whimpering, and looked back over to him. But it wasn't Paul making that desperate pleading noise.

"Oh shit, the dogs!" She leapt to her feet and headed for the kitchen. The dogs ran after her, and Paul lagged on behind, still pulling his chinos back over his hips. "Some dog-sitter I turned out to be. Poor things must be desperate to go." She looked over at Paul. "Fancy a walk?" She was throwing things - Cokes, balls, a frisbee - into a rucksack and reached out for the leads. There was a chorus of happy barking.

Paul would have done anything for her at that moment. Not only had she sucked him off, and swallowed, she'd referred to him as her boyfriend. He was totally made up. And what she wanted to do now was something he'd love, too - walking the dogs, in the sunshine, at her side. What's not to like?

///

They wandered further up the hill, away from town, towards the common. Paul tirelessly threw the balls for the dogs, who happily ran off into the long grass to grab them and bring them back. He'd tease them by just pretending to throw; the first couple of times they'd run off but return, confused; then they got wise to him.

Not once did Paul complain that the ball was covered in dog slobber, mud and grass. He was just happy to play, happy even to reach into their mouths and playfight for the ball. He believed they'd play nice, and so they did. Samantha was so impressed and happy that she'd found someone else with the same love for dogs that she had.

"I'd love a dog. Or dogs; they're pack animals, you can't just have one. Although I can't have any, we're not allowed pets in the flat."

It was easy to forget, given how smart he tried to dress and how clever he was, that Paul and his mum were dirt poor, and lived in a rough council flat. Samantha felt guilty for all the times she'd joined in teasing him for wearing charity shop clothes and uniform, or using the school lunch vouchers for free food. It was probably all he'd eat all day. But she never once heard him complain about it. And she'd bitch if her shoes were slightly the wrong shade to match her top.

"I'd have three labs; one of each - a chocolate, black and gold one. They're so stupid, but so loveable."

"And their names would be..."

"The black one would be Sam. Not because of you," he said quickly. "My uncle had a black lab/retriever called Sam; he was a wonderful dog." A moment passed, and Samantha took his hand. She knew what losing a pet was like. "The gold one would be Romana. But I don't have a name for the brown one, not one I like."

Samantha thought for a moment. "What about Charlie? As in the Chocolate Factory?"

Paul's jaw dropped, gobsmacked. "Of course! Why didn't I think of that? It's perfect!" He cupped her face in both hands and kissed her full on the lips. "You're right! That's exactly what we're going to call our dogs!"

Our dogs, she thought? Getting a bit ahead of ourselves, aren't we? But she let it slide, since the thought clearly made him happy.

They switched to frisbee; the dogs playing piggy-in-the-middle as Paul and Samantha threw to each other. He loved watching her throw; seeing her chest in profile, and how it swayed on the release; checking her arse in those extreme cropped shorts when she bent down to pick the disk back up. He'd playfight with the dogs when they grabbed it, congratulating them with a stroke or a hefty pat to the chest, and then try to wrestle the frisbee from their mouths. They'd drop it instantly when he asked, but where was the fun in that?

It was a warm afternoon, and so Paul was content to heed Samantha's suggestion that they amble back through the woodland rather than the straight path back down the hill. They wrapped an arm round each other's waists, and meandered along the chipped-bark pathway, a lead or two in their spare hands; the dogs panting from their games. They let the dogs drink from the crystal-clear stream that ran through the woods.

"It's beautiful up here," Paul said. "So quiet, and so pretty." The bluebells were dying off now, but there was still a purple tinge to the woodland floor.

"Come with me," Samantha replied. "I know the most beautiful spot in the wood." And she stepped off the path, following a mud track through the ferns and bracken.

In a few minutes they were deep in the wood. No city noises remained, no sign of human habitation or of the paths through the wood. Samantha took the leads and tied them to a tree, making sure the dogs had enough room to wander a little, but not too far. She took Paul's hand, and led him a little deeper, until they couldn't even see the dogs.

"Where is this beauty spot?" he asked.

"Right here, in front of you," she said, throwing her arms round his neck and pulling him close for a deep and passionate kiss.

The kiss went on, and on. She could feel his hardness pressing urgently against her waist. She started to unbutton his shirt, then pushed it off his shoulders to fall loosely to the ground. Paul tried to pull the vest over her head, but it was pulled too tightly under her breasts and the material didn't have anywhere near enough give to stretch over those huge tits. So, he fumbled with the knot at her back, eventually working it free, so he could lift the vest over her head and discard it onto the soft forest floor.

"Oh wow," he said, getting his first proper look at her tits. The bra presented her perfectly - which is why she'd chosen it, of course. It held her up and forward, giving a long long line of cleavage; the cups were thin lace that drew curls and highlights over her breasts without obscuring the outline of her nipples. He couldn't help himself; he leant forwards and kissed each one on the top, felt it give under his lips, then licked and kissed the cleavage, holding his face just long enough to feel her heartbeat but not so long that it was creepy. He kissed his way back up her chest and neck, back to her mouth.

While he'd been busy with her boobs, she'd undone her short-shorts and they'd fallen to the ground too. She flicked off her trainers and stepped out of the tiny denim, and stood in just her lingerie. Paul slid his fingers through the waistband of her underwear, down and under and inside her, as she loosened his chinos. She knelt, pulling his trousers and boxers back off again, and his cock sprang up and slapped her in the face. She took it in her mouth, rolled it around, then pulled him down to his knees as well.

She unbuckled her bra and threw it aside. Nothing would ruin the mood faster than Paul fumbling with it. She lay down on her back, pulling him over her. "Make love to me," she said, leaning back on her shoulders and raising her arse so Paul could draw her underwear down her legs. Paul saw that she'd shaved her lips, leaving a neat triangle of light brown fur pointing down to her pleasure spot.

"Do you have any, you know, things I can use?" He asked.

Oh, how sweet, she thought. So many would have been balls deep in her already, uncaring, and any pregnancy would be her problem. "Condoms? I hate them, they give me thrush and we won't feel each other properly. And we don't need them. Give me your hand." She raised it to her underarm and pressed his fingers in. "Feel that?"

"You've been chipped?" he said, confused.

"Ha-ha. It's a hormone implant, like the pill but I can't forget to take it. Mum made me get it, when I was fourteen and clearly a heartbreaker in the making." Paul looked shocked. "Kidding! I had really bad period pains and this cured them. No blood for me, and no babies if a boy took advantage. Lasts for years. And it's probably what gave me these," she said, pushing her big tits together and shaking them. "Now, where were we?" She took his cock in her hand and guided him to her entrance.

As Paul felt her soft lips part around him, he knew that this was where his dick was always meant to be. She wrapped round him, tight and firm yet soft and pliant. He closed his eyes and lost his breath momentarily. Then something in his hindbrain took over, his hips began to buck, and he eased ever deeper into her. When he thought he was in as far as he could go, she pulled her legs up and out, and he found he had more yet to give.

This, he thought. This is how he wanted to remember his first time. Not in the dark, in Canada, with the mother of someone he barely knew, her facing away as she pleasured herself on his cock. No, here; with his true love, naked and calling his name, surrounded by nature.

"Oh god yeah, fuck me," she said. Paul's hips obliged, and he started to pound into her, chest heaving with the effort. Each time he slammed back into her, he watched her tits jump in waves up and back down. He was hypnotised.

"Okay, calm down, take it easy." She knew he'd never last at that pace.

"I... don't think I can..." Paul wasn't entirely in control of his own body anymore. He was consumed by pleasure. So warm, so wet, so right. He never wanted it to end, but he also wanted it to end so bad and so strong.

"Then just go for it," she said. She'd had sex before - many, many times before - but you only get one first time. Let him have this moment.

"Here it comes... I can't stop it... oh my god... OH FUCK!" he roared, as his balls unleashed a torrent into her eager waiting pussy. She reached up and stroked his face, and he bent down for a kiss, burying his tongue in her mouth like his dick was in her pussy. He lay flat over her, crushing the air from her lungs, panting to catch his own breath.

The dogs were barking, alarmed by the noise. Paul rolled off, and she called to them to reassure them she was fine. But the barking was bound to have attracted attention; they'd need to leave before anyone found them. The problem was that she could hardly put those tiny shorts on with Paul's full load inside her; it would be immediately obvious what they'd been doing if they met anyone with that lot soaked into the crotch of her denims, and she wasn't ready for that kind of revelation just yet. While Paul fumbled with his boxers, she scooped as much out of herself as she could - those short fingernails weren't just for the fretboard - and flicked it into the ferns. But she couldn't resist licking the remains from her fingers.

"You dirty, dirty girl!" Paul said, with a smile.

"Yeah, well, where did your foul mouth come from? I've never heard such language!"

"Ha-ha. Talking about loose lips... you missed a bit." There was still a trickle of their juices dribbling down from her pussy; quick as a flash, he bent down and licked her from arsehole to clit, scooping deep into her folds with his tongue. The surprise and sudden pressure against her clit, so soon after getting fucked, and the unexpected, unlikely event of squeaky-clean Paul licking her out, sent a shock like electricity through her nerves, up her spine and into her brain. Holy fuck, I'm so getting you to do that properly later.

But for now, they needed to make themselves scarce. She stuffed her underwear in the rucksack and just pulled on the shorts, grabbed Paul's shirt and tied it in a tight knot under her tits as a makeshift bralet, and went to get the dogs while Paul pulled the vest over his head. Emerging from the undergrowth, he caught a look at her epic cleavage and couldn't tear his eyes away again.

"Really? You just saw me naked!"

"I dunno why, but seeing you partly dressed is hotter, somehow. I have such a lucky shirt..."

She laughed as she took his arm, leading him home.

///

Despite the warmth of the evening, they'd lit the fire in the lounge, to set the tone. Consequently, there was a cute furry puppy-pile on the rug; Paul snuggled his toes into the fur and idly stoked the dogs while he and Samantha binged their way through Police Academy films on VHS. It seemed necessary that they could touch each other. Paul was in just Samantha's G'n'R vest top and his boxers; she in just his shirt - she was shorter than him, and most of that was in her long shapely legs, so the shirt sufficed as a makeshift if somewhat indecent dress.

She lay with her head on his shoulder, he had his arm round hers and his hand was inside the shirt, stroking along underneath her breasts. With deft fingertips he followed the curve of one as it led round to the other, back and forth, marvelling at how something so soft could be so heavy yet move so effortlessly.

She lay there, content. Yes, he was touching her up - couldn't leave her boobs alone - but for now she didn't mind; it was to be expected, this was so new for him. It was gentle, not groping; he wasn't forcing her face down onto his cock, or slapping her arse, or demeaning her. She was relaxed in his company, happy spending time together, laughing together. A vision came over her; of them in twenty years' time, huggled up on their own sofa with their three Labradors, kids settled in bed - a vision of her and Paul in the place of her parents. It didn't freak her out; it felt right. She wriggled into his embrace, and his wandering hand fell to her side.

"Why?"

She was startled by the question, and looked up at him.

"Why me, why now?"

She thought carefully before she spoke. He was bound to be curious.

"I mean, a month ago you wouldn't have pissed on me if I was on fire; now we're half-naked in your house, we've had sex... it's so unreal."

"Well first young man, I think we need to talk about your language!" She hit the tone of his mother perfectly, and he laughed.

"You just bring the bad boy out in me, I guess." He felt completely free with her. Why had he ever been so terrified? She was a girl, but she was just a person, like him. Very much like him, it turned out; they seemed to have the same dirty imagination, same taste in music and sense of humour. Watching his language seemed irrelevant now, especially with the girl who'd taken his cum in her mouth and swallowed it gladly. And sometimes you needed to use a fucking powerful word. "It's obvious why I fancy you; I mean, look at you. But why me? Why not the alpha guys on the football squad, like Andy and co?"

"You know why, I told you on the plane. How you tried to defend Sophie, even winded and with your mouth bleeding, you still put yourself between her and that bastard. It made me realise I had you all wrong. You're not annoying because you always want to be right; you believe in truth and just want everyone to be happy."

He kissed the top of her head.

"I'm so sorry for how me and the girls have treated you."

"It's not so bad, from where I'm sitting," he said, his gaze drifting along the length of her. She pushed his shoulder, shaking her head but smiling.

There was a silence, and it held just a little too long. It's like he knows me, she thought; can see right through me.

"You can tell me, you know," he said. "I'm great with secrets."

"I've not even told my mum," she said, before she could stop herself. Paul just looked at her, supportively, stroking her arm to comfort her. "You know Mick and I broke up? Just before the trip?" Paul nodded. "Yeah, well, it wasn't because he'd cheated on me. I mean he had, but so had I, it was a fluid kind of thing we had. But no. He... took advantage of me."

Paul slipped his other arm round her, cradling her as she told the tale.

"We were both drunk, and it was late. I wanted to get home, but he insisted he 'get some' before I left. I wasn't feeling up to it, but he wouldn't leave me alone. I thought maybe I could get him off with a quick hand job, you know?

"But his fingers were everywhere, crushing my boob and yanking at my skirt. They were in my knickers, pulling then down. I was slapping his face, punching him, but that made him angrier which made him more determined.

"He'd been on about it all day, I think he must have seen it in some porno. 'When you gonna give it up, bitch? When you gonna let me smash in that fat arse of yours?' No way was I going to let him anywhere near it, particularly drunk.

"'That's my arse, bitch,' he said, 'bought and paid for, and I'm taking it'"

Her face was flushed in anger at the memory, and a tear escaped. Paul wiped it away, trembling with rage. "Please tell me you got away?"

"I kicked him hard in the balls, and while he couldn't get up, I ran. I ran all the way home from town, locked myself in the bathroom, and soaked myself back to being human."

Paul stroked at her hair. He had no idea what to say, but speech seemed less important than just being there, comforting her.

"So yeah, seeing you put yourself in harm's way to stop Sophie being molested, raped even... I think that's when I realised I didn't know who you really were at all, and wanted to get to know you better."