What's in a Name? Beth

As he was walking towards me, I noticed a drop of liquid at the end of his penis. I thought it might be piss, but realized that it was pre-cum when I licked it off. I was prepared to give him a full blow-job, but he stopped me a few seconds after I had taken him into my mouth. I kinda felt cheated but agreed to lie down when he asked me to.

He turned my face to his for a kiss, then slid his hands down to fondle my breasts as he lowered both of us to the bed. David had 'played with my boobs,' but Dad's touch felt completely different, and SO much better. After a long, slow kiss, his mouth drifted down to suckle them, first one, then the other. He dropped a hand from my breast to rub my bush. I spread my legs and the hand moved between them. He slipped a single finger into my slit like I had earlier. The finger then moved back to press against my anus and drifted forward. As it passed my vagina, it dipped slightly, just enough to acknowledge the opening before continuing. It paused again to press my clit, where he added a pinch that almost made me cum. He continued mimicking my earlier actions by carefully licking my juice off his finger and thumb. He then returned his attention to my breasts. I was already more turned on than I had ever been with David, and Dad hadn't even started going down on me. I closed my eyes to savor the sensations.

Suddenly he wasn't suckling my breasts any more. In fact, he wasn't touching me at all. I didn't realize he was lying between my legs until he nudged them apart. I took the hint, and spread them enough to completely open myself to him. He fingered me a bit more, gently and slowly. It wasn't at all tentative, but more like he was carefully, deliberately, exploring my sex. After tracing the outlines of my labia and brushing my clit, he gently put a finger into my vagina. I was completely wet, so it slid in easily. He seemed fascinated by my hymen. I could feel him stretching it. He lightly massaged it before he pushed the single finger into me. He was careful and clearly didn't want to tear it - which was the reason I had told David to keep his fingers out of my pussy. He gently pushed his finger into me until I felt the rest of his hand pressing around the opening. As he withdrew his finger, he stretched my hymen a bit more.

The finger was gone and was replaced by - nothing. It probably wasn't even a second, but it seemed like forever before I felt his tongue burrowing into me. It was nothing like the hesitant licks David had given me. This was determined, probing, and immensely satisfying. I didn't know a tongue could reach some of the places I felt it. He even seemed to find places I didn't know I had. After thoroughly exploring my pussy, he licked his way up to my clit, and latched onto it. Initially he suckled it like he had done with my nipples, but then it was more of a kiss. There was absolutely no frustration. His attention was pure arousal. The kiss was followed by him licking a circle around my clit before he latched onto it again and flicked it with his tongue.

I exploded.

I've given myself orgasms before, but they were nothing like this. He said that I whimpered as I came and I'll take his word for it. I have absolutely no memory of what I did at that moment. I only remember how I felt. The pleasure started between my legs, but was all-encompassing an instant later. I didn't realize that it was possible for something to feel so wonderful - like I was lost in complete physical ecstasy. The intense pleasure eventually subsided to a warm glow that lingered indefinitely.

I had to return the favor. I was determined to give him the full blow-job he had denied me earlier. Dad was licking my vagina when I flipped him onto his back, climbed onto him, and took his member into my mouth. As mentioned, David had taught me how to deep-throat a cock and I did so almost immediately. Dad's hard-on was longer than David's, and therefore reached places that hadn't felt a dick before. As I pulled back for a breath, I felt Dad's tongue on my clit again. This was the first time I had ever done a '69' - every time I had blown David, I was between his legs. As soon as I felt Dad's tongue, I decided that this was way better. I had full access to Dad's hard-on, and he could eat me at the same time. I was pretty sure that I would cum again, but I was determined to get Dad off before I did. A benefit of my experience with David is that he wasn't shy about telling me what turned him on and what didn't. I hoped Dad had the same preferences as I focused on the former.

While catching my breath, I held just the head in my mouth and stroked the tip with my tongue. I took another deep breath and took in his entire length again, to the point that my nose was buried in his pubic hair. I couldn't breathe, but I was still able to smell his masculinity. I kept alternating between taking him into my throat and stroking him with my tongue. In spite of my efforts to concentrate on giving Dad the best blow job I could, his mouth on my clit kept distracting me.

He was using everything to stimulate me. In addition to sucking and licking my clit, he added kisses and nibbles. His hands were busy as well, he was kneading my ass with one while the other continued to fondle my breasts. I wanted him to cum down my throat, and he gave me enough warning that I had time to swallow him before he started shooting his load. As he came, I came again. If the first orgasm was an explosion, the second was fireworks - still bright and beautiful, but slightly less powerful. Having Dad cum down my throat at the same time was a pleasant side-show. I had to lift my head to catch my breath before he was completely finished. With his cum in my mouth, I couldn't help but compare its flavor to David's. I've already said I can't describe the flavor of semen - describing a difference in flavor is more difficult so I won't even try. I'll just say that I didn't mind David's cum, but I really liked Dad's. I savored it for a few seconds before swallowing.

I thought that I couldn't have an orgasm from oral sex. But Dad had just given me the two best orgasms in my life up to that point, and both were given orally. I was elated with how things had gone so far even if I WAS still a virgin.

I climbed off of Dad and noticed that he was still hard. According to just about every source I had seen, men reach the peak of their sexual performance at about 18 and then slowly fade. Since Dad was almost 50, I was surprised that he didn't collapse after cumming the way David always did. Dad's explanation almost made me blush. I knew I was in good shape (a few hours of soccer practice a day will do that), but I had never considered myself 'hot.' All the girls I've seen on porn sites were thinner than I was and had bigger tits.

Dad then brought up taking my virginity and he was clearly torn about it in spite of the fact that I had all but told him I wanted give it to him. I let him talk, and he gave me every reason to say no. I replied by reiterating how I had essentially set up the entire evening in the hope that he WOULD take my virginity. I didn't mention that I had waited until Friday so that we could spend the rest of the weekend fucking like rabbits and still fall within the 72-hour window for Plan-B (I was uncomfortable enough buying it, I wasn't about to ask it would work prevent pregnancy if taken before intercourse. I just remember reading that it was effective if taken within that time-frame after unprotected sex).

His offer eliminated a final, unanticipated problem. As Beth, I thought I had the self-confidence to talk about anything. But I found that I could not ask him to take my virginity until he had offered to do so. I would have let him continue without discussion - I was somewhat determined to lose it that night - but I appreciated the opportunity to talk about it first. When he mentioned that he had had a vasectomy, I almost felt cheated - we could have started a day earlier, but that was water under the bridge. We were in bed together, naked, and he wanted to take my cherry as much as I wanted to give it to him.

It was important to me that he knew that I was giving him an explicit, emphatic 'yes' to proceed. Just like I didn't want either of us to be drunk enough that our judgment would be in doubt. After all the news stories about rape over the preceding six months or so, I had to be sure he knew that I wanted this, even though I didn't - couldn't - explicitly ask for it until he broached the subject.

Oregon believes in complete sex education - none of the 'Abstinence Only' bullshit that some other states insist on (in spite of Bristol Palin) - so I knew about birth control and STD's from school. In addition, both Mom and Dad had talked with me about 'safe sex' before. Dad tended to be more practical (like discussing the song), while Mom always talked in more general terms. The discussion that night was the most direct and intimate instruction I had ever received. Both the circumstances and the directness ensured that I would not ignore it and could not forget it. One part that stood out was that any guy who wanted to have sex with me had damn well better have protection (and I should "picture his 'nads as a soccer ball and myself scoring from a goal kick" if he doesn't). OTOH, I should have protection with me if I tried to seduce a guy.

From the way he had fingered me earlier, it was clear he knew I was a virgin. From his ability to make me cum (twice!) orally, he definitely knew how to satisfy a woman. His confession of inexperience in dealing with virginity was therefore a bit of a surprise - he certainly knew what he was doing with his finger. When he suggested using a position I had never seen or heard of, I immediately went along with it - he had already demonstrated that he knew what he was doing. He asked me to lie on my side, and lift one leg in the air. I hadn't consciously pointed my toes at the ceiling, but as he surmised, that was from my years of dance training. The following events have been seared into my memory but the overriding impression is pleasure. It started with pressure on my leg as he straddled it on the bed. This was followed by the warmth as he pressed his erection against my thigh before pressing the head into my sex. I wasn't sure what would follow.

OK, I had an idea of the 'big picture,' but was unsure about the details. Actually, I had two different, almost contrasting 'pictures.' Joan had two distinct circles of friends at school - the soccer team, and her class-mates from dance. Some of her friends from dance had confessed that they had 'given themselves' to their boyfriends and complained of being sore for a week. Soccer team-mates mentioned that it hurt a bit, but it wouldn't impair their performance in any noticeable way the next day.

I felt his member entering me, and expected it to hurt almost immediately. He paused when the full head of his cock was in me and I could feel the tip pushing against my hymen. It was uncomfortable, but it didn't hurt - kinda like getting a hickey. After the pause, he didn't just push through my hymen but continued very slowly, stretching it until it tore. I don't remember making a sound, but he says that I squeaked. It hurt, about like a pinch, but it was less than even the other soccer players described. I almost didn't notice the slight pain because of the immense pleasure that came on its heels, as he finally thrust into me completely. Soon my senses were overwhelmed by that pleasure. Just thinking about it now is making me wet - weeks after the event. Feeling him inside me, it was like he was filling a void I didn't realized I had. Everything before - even the two earlier orgasms - were cast into a different light. What I had thought of as the main course then was only an appetizer, leaving my body waiting for what he was now giving it.

Damn. I knew it would be difficult to describe, but I was hoping it was possible. If you've felt it, you know what I'm talking about. If not, I can only hope you have the opportunity. Guys must feel something different. I've heard that it's supposed to be better. In all honesty, I doubt that it could be.

Like I said, after Dad pushed through my hymen, he buried himself in me completely. It was as if my entire being was focused on what he was doing. When his pubic hair brushed my upraised thigh, I felt it. He was hugging my upper leg as his balls were sliding along my lower leg. He pulled out to where just the head of his penis was in me, but he re-entered before I could think to complain. The sensation of his erection moving in and out of my vagina would have certainly caused made me cum before long, but he seemed intent on attacking on all fronts. The hand that wasn't hugging my raised leg alternated between tweaking my nipples and rubbing my clit. I could feel every point of contact between us; my raised leg held against his chest, the pressure of his ass pinning my lower leg to the bed, even the stubble on his cheek rubbing my ankle. But my attention was focused on what was happening between my legs - his cock pumping into me and his hand stroking my clit.

I came with the largest explosion of the night. My orgasm had all the intensity of the first explosion with the beauty of the fireworks. When I felt him shooting his semen into me, it kicked the whole experience up another notch. My heart was pounding so hard, I could hear it. Every part of my body was wracked by overwhelming pleasure. Again, my entire universe was the pleasure of the experience. Time stood still.

I knew he had cum (again), but he stayed in me and continued pumping. Clearly he wasn't done and I discovered that I wasn't either. It took only a handful of additional strokes before we both came a second time. Again, the second orgasm was slightly less intense than the first, but still more pleasurable than anything I had experienced before that evening. It was only after we both had cum a second time that he let go of my leg and pulled out of me.

I had to taste him again. When he rolled onto his back, I climbed back onto him in a '69' position. By now, his erection had faded considerably. I licked our combined juices from around his shaft and balls before taking his spent member into my mouth. After a second I dropped it to comment, "I've tasted myself and a guy's cum before, but never both at the same time. It's a pretty good combination." After taking him back into my mouth, his cock started to swell. I knew he had stamina but I didn't know that it applied to his sex as well. I certainly didn't mind and went with it.

I started licking and sucking as I had earlier, and added some tea-bagging. He slowly returned to full mast, and I was able to take him into my throat. While I was 'cleaning' him, he was returning the favor, alternately licking my vagina and my clit. His tongue penetrated me again, but not with the earlier intensity. He really seemed to be trying to 'clean' me - when he wasn't licking me, he was sucking lightly on my vagina. When he sucked on my clit a short time later, I came again. It wasn't mind-blowing, but with all of the previous orgasms, I won't complain. I continued the blow-job until he came again. It was clear that he was also 'spent.' He came in my mouth, and I had no trouble holding all of it until he was finished before swallowing. As we were kissing afterwards, I could taste myself on his lips and suspect he could also taste his cum on my lips. We were both tired so it wasn't long before I rolled over and he spooned with me while I fell asleep.

*******

When I woke the following morning I was a bit disoriented. The first thing I noticed was that I wasn't wearing the t-shirt and panties I normally slept in. In fact, I wasn't wearing anything. There was also a warm mass beside me, like there was somebody else...

Last night came back in a pleasant rush (and some moisture between my legs). I was almost afraid to open my eyes, fearing that I might find that it had all been a dream. The was a slight sting inside me from what happened last night, reassuring me that is was real. I took a breath and opened my eyes.

Dad almost always woke up before I did, and that morning was no exception. It was different, in that instead of hearing him puttering around outside my bedroom, I opened my eyes to find him sitting up in bed, looking at me with a smile. I was on top of the covers, so he could see all of me. He asked if I remembered using the family changing rooms when we went swimming. Since he and I had changed together until I was, I don't know, maybe 8? it's not like I would forget, and I said so. He said that he was thinking about the last time he had seen me naked. I'm a little surprised that he hadn't 'sneaked a peek' during the years I had been living with him - God knows I had (remember what I said about leaving my door open?) - but I let it slide. When he commented that I had changed a bit since then, I ignored the obvious (boobs and bush) and made some off-hand comment about my height. He chuckled.

[Side note: In his stories, I giggle and he chuckles - without exception. I've checked more than once and he is absolutely consistent in this. Am I being unfair to nit about it, or is there an actual difference in the way women and men react to mild humor? Maybe it's like men getting hard when aroused while women get wet (although there are physical differences behind that). In any case, in his stories I giggle and he chuckles, but both of us would occasionally laugh.]

He climbed out of bed and headed to the bathroom. I kinda wanted to watch him pee again, but that would mean moving to the foot of the bed, which required too much work at the time. When he was done, he pulled on his sweat pants, and went out to make coffee. He usually grabbed the paper off the front porch, and he did so today; I heard the front door open and close. I would occasionally join him in the kitchen and knew he scanned the editorial page before turning to the comics while waiting for the coffee to brew. Today, I finally got up to grab a change of clothes from my room and my tooth-brush from the other bathroom. I was brushing my teeth in the master bath when he came in with two steaming mugs. I flashed him a frothy smile saying, "I was hoping we could get ready together."

He agreed and said something about having someone to wash his back. When he went back to the bedroom to take off his sweat pants, he commented on how he shouldn't have bothered putting them on. He said he only wore them to cover himself when I (Joan or Beth) was around. I agreed that it no longer made sense, since I had already seen everything, and liked to look in any case. He then mentioned that he was generally more comfortable naked than dressed and this somehow led to a discussion of locker-room etiquette.

At public pools, children under about 5 of either gender would use the locker room appropriate to the parent if the Family rooms were all in use (a common occurrence). According to Dad, it wasn't uncommon for young girls to be intrigued by male plumbing. The father of the child was the only one who would 'see' her when she was undressed but otherwise interactions were like any other public place. I have vague memories of changing in the Men's locker room, but don't really remember much. After I was 5, Dad and I would wait for a Family Changing room. Before that, Mom was generally with us, and I would change with her (again, if a Family Room wasn't available). Dad said that most guys didn't bother covering themselves when they changed, but about half would wear a towel while walking between the lockers and the shower. The showers themselves may or may not be separated. Looking at another man's 'junk' (his term) was about the only taboo.

When I was old enough (in his opinion) to use the woman's locker room by myself, he and I changed separately when we went swimming. However, most of my experience with locker rooms was from school (PE, dance, and soccer) so I had them in mind while we talked.