Wicked's Metamorphosis

I sink back on my haunches exhausted, too weak to move. My dick twitches in post-climax spasms. Marie studies me with great intensity as my cock disgorges into a semi-flaccid state of arousal. Propped up on her elbows, she watches as cum flows downward between her breasts and pools onto the flat delta formed in the hollow of her stomach. Swirling her fingers through my cum she examines the results of her exposure to her first male orgasm.

"So ... that's how boys do it," came a low sultry whisper. Her eyes fixed on mine and a tiny grin appeared out of nowhere. "That was really intense!"

"No fucking." I finally pant. "But, if I didn't jack off just now, I don't think I could have stopped myself from dicking you. You were amazing!"

Wryly, she responds, "Yes, I am amazing!" Drawing her splayed legs back, she turns onto her side to face me.

I collapse and roll over onto the straw next to her. Together, we watch as my semen glides down her torso and drips onto the straw. Spent, we rest in silence, surveying each other. We focus our gaze intently on the parts clothing previously kept hidden from one another. Unabashedly, our fingertips trace over one another with soft gentle strokes, not those designed to rekindle fire, but those touches that help to familiarize one with the shapes, curves, and softness of another's body.

Tit for Tat

Well after our breathing had returned to normal and, with a modicum of recuperation, Marie shifts her weight up onto one elbow and looking intently into my eyes, wraps her fingers around my flaccid cock.

"What's good for the goose is good for the gander, Ray," Grandma always says.

Marie's nostrils move closer to my limp cock drawing in its smell. I look down to watch as she traces my purple nob with her fingertip. With my dick in her hand, she slowly lowers her head and tentatively runs her tongue lightly over the tip. Having just cum, I enjoy the new thrills of the electricity running through me, no longer out of control, my voice guides her and her tongue re-kindles my dick once more.

This time, lying on my back, I relish the feel of her wet, warm lips. The need for the rage in my previous pugilistic action is abated. Now, the sensations feel like floating on a sea of straw. I enjoy Marie's gentle, tentative tongue licking as she gives me my first cock sucking orgasmic thrill. The feel must be akin to rapture, as I have no other experiences to equate to this wondrous massage. Her virgin explorations are hesitant and prolong the intensity building in me. My rock-hard dick springs back and forth of its own accord. Occasionally it pops free of her lips and she stops to admire its free spirit.

"Don't stop, Marie! More! Right there!" I gasp between jagged breaths as her tongue finds my slit.

I beg her to continue as my legs go stiff and she redoubles her efforts to appease me. Just at the point of cumming, I pull free of her wonderfully sucking lips and a small barrage of cum arcs into the air and impacts just below my belly button; not as spectacular as the first bursts that painted her body, but equally as satisfying. She lays propped up on one elbow watching me as I collapse, gasping for air. Meticulously studying my twitching dick springing back and forth, she giggles as it melts into a comatose state of satiated joy.

"How many times can you do that?" She asks while flipping my semi-flaccid cock back and forth with her forefinger, as I lay splayed out before her.

"Three or four times a day, maybe, depending on how much time I have alone. I guess; or how horny I am." Now, normally, I would have never been able to answer such a question, but having just fallen off a giant sexual cliff, I had no qualms about giving up an answer to my new confidant.

"You?" I ask, while peeling back her petals and peering into the folds of her cunt to find out how far I can see into the mysterious hole within.

"More!" She gasps in answer to my question, her legs simultaneously clamping down on my fingers.

Is that more than four times a day, or does she just want me to play with her hole some more? I wonder. I didn't ask for clarification, as I was lost in exploration and not really focusing on listening to her response at the time.

For the next half hour, Marie and I trade our previously unspoken questions about sexual feelings, and now openly answer each other's questions about our carnal desires. We keep no secrets about what we desire in our foray into forbidden pleasures on this warm summer day. She, however, makes it unquestionably clear there is to be no dicking, but all else seems to be fair play. Regretfully, we dress, brushing off the telltale signs of our romp in the loft.

Marie's Lie

"What are we going to tell Grandma about why it took so long to finish with the barn chores?" As quickly as she has asked, Marie answers her own question. "Let's tell her that the horses didn't come up from the woods right away and we had to walk down there to coax them home and into the stalls - with some grain."

Seems plausible to me, so I agree.

I am too dazed to be aware of how long we had been in the loft or to have even thought there was a need to make up an excuse. Closing the barn door behind us we walk in silence toward the house. I wanted to reach out and squeeze her ass one more time or at least hold her hand on the way to the farmhouse, but somehow that didn't seem to be an appropriate thing to do -- at least not this time. The whole barn loft scene seemed surreal now that we were dressed and walking out in the open. The only sound made was the crunch of the gravel beneath our feet as we made the journey toward the back porch.

The Name Game

"Do you have a name for it?" Came her question out of the blue as we walked toward the back porch.

"What? Name?" I ask, at a loss to figure out what Marie was talking about.

"Name! You know. Does your cock have a name?" She responds.

I grin and chuckle at her strange question. "No. I never thought about cocks having names. Why?"

"Well, some of the girls told me they have secret names for their boyfriend's cock so they can talk about it with him in public without anyone else knowing it's his cock they are talking about. Kind of a game, you know? For instance, a girl walks up to her boyfriend, standing with a group of his friends and says, 'I can't go out tonight with you, because my cousin Larry is coming to see me. See Ray, they named his dick Larry. Larry is code for his dick, she's telling him what she really wants to see tonight is his dick, but his friends wouldn't know that." Came Marie's response.

I shrug, "So you want to give my dick a name? How about Harry, like you know, its 'hairy' so we call it Harry?"

"I'm thinking more like Richard." Marie replies.

"Why Richard?" I ask, continuing toward the back porch.

"Well, you do know what the nickname for Richard is don't you?" She comes right back at me as if she can't believe how naïve or ignorant, I am -- slow -- as she used to call me on the uptake.

When I have no immediate response, Marie answers, "Dick! Dick is the nickname for Richard! So, when I tell you, and you are with your friends, 'I'm waiting on a call from Richard.' You would know I was really thinking about waiting for your dick to show up!"

At that point we reach the porch, and to avoid Grandma's hearing the rest of the conversation, Marie drops the subject. I am left wondering why I need a code name for my dick. We're not even in school anymore and Marie doesn't even know any of my friends; we live one-hundred-and-fifty miles apart. Talk about -- slow -- on the uptake.

My head is still reeling from dealing with a rendezvous with my naked confidant in the loft and finding out that she craves sex and is consumed with thoughts of getting it as often as I am.

Grandma was just setting the table for us and made no mention of our tardiness. But Marie recounts our horse story for her anyway, just to cover our tracks.

In casual conversation, Marie remarks, "I met a boy at the market the other day, Grandma. He has a summer job there helping with carryout. His name is Richard. I think he kind of likes me, Grandma. He is tall, like about six feet tall, and has really long hair. He asked me out to the movies this Saturday, do you think I should go?"

Now, I begin to get what Marie was telling me about naming my cock, Richard! I crack a smile thinking about how tall she mentioned 'Richard' is and ask, "So I see a six-footer impresses you. What else about Richard do you like?"

"Well his head is kind of big and he can grip several melons at one time to carry out, so I think he must be pretty smart and strong. And he said he expects to be the quarterback of the football team when he goes to college in the fall, so he will be carrying a lot of balls." She says as she bumps my leg under the table. None of that made sense, but I got the innuendos and begin to see how this code thing works.

Grandma broke into the conversation saying, "If your parents say it is okay, then I would suggest setting up a double date to get to know him before you go out alone. That's the way to be safe in these times. You never know who you might encounter, today."

Sweetly, Marie replies, "Thanks for the advice, Grandma, but the only one I know around here to go with me is Ray and he doesn't know any girls to double date. I guess I could fix him up with a friend. Ok, with that Ray?"

Later that week, Grandma found some quite time to speak with Marie. It wasn't for several weeks later that I found out about it. Tuesday afternoon, Grandma had sent me out to forage for blackberries in the woods right after lunch. It turns out the berry picking trip was just a ploy for Grandma Johnson to get time alone with Marie.

I saddled up Paint and headed out to the woods well before Marie was due to arrive. I was determined to gather enough berries for a pie that evening and get back as quickly as possible for our barn loft explorations or training sessions as Marie calls them. It seems she thinks I need training even though I seem to always drive her over the top as my tongue finds new places to roam.

Exposing Marie, the Liar

My breasts were moist. I could feel the sweat running down between them as I huffed up the last half mile up the road. The taut tee shirt rubbing over my hardened nipples, as I peddled, probably also had something to do with those beads of perspiration. Time, for putting my plan into action, was dwindling. I dropped my bike against the porch railing and breezed into the kitchen, letting the screen swing shut with a bang.

And as usual, got the same lecture from Grandma for the thousandth time, "Don't let the screen slam, girl!" I just laughed and said, "I forgot!" Also, for the thousandth time, just playing with Grandma's good nature and keeping up my reputation as the 'bad girl' in the family.

The kitchen seems more quiet than usual. Grandma pours two glasses of fresh lemonade and sets them on the table. "Where's Ray?" I ask, knowing there would always be three glasses, normally.

"He went to pick some blackberries." She responds, while motioning for me to take a seat at the table. I took a seat as Grandma sat down next to me, slowly taking a sip and fixing her grandmotherly stare. I am dead center of her gaze and there is no way to maneuver around her. I felt like a cornered ... I don't know what, but she has been waiting for me, of that much I am now certain.

"Marie, I was at the market yesterday morning and I asked Helen about the new carryout boy, Richard. Seems she didn't know her husband had hired a helper. You know what else I learned? Neither did he!" Her voice raising a bit she says, putting down her glass on the table. It landed with a resounding thud.

"So ... what's up, Marie?" I can feel her grandmotherly stare boring into me like a corkscrew going into a deep red bottle of wine. My face slowly turns to that color. Silence permeates the kitchen. Only the sound of the mantel clock in the living room can be heard tick-by-tick. I feel my nerves beginning to rattle and goose bumps start to pop up on my arms. Not even the heat of the kitchen can dispel those. Grandma settles in to wait for my answer.

"Fuck!" slams around in my mind, like a rat in a cage, as I realize I'm trapped in my lie, not thinking it through far enough. I had just wanted to toy with Ray's mind for a bit and had thoughtlessly used Grandma as a tool to do it. Now, I couldn't think fast enough to get out of this, easily. So, I take a deep breath and decide to tell her the truth about the code word game, thinking that would be enough to deflect more questioning.

"Marie! What happened before that? You don't just tell a boy about code words like that without something going on between the two of you! Are you two ..." She starts to say, but trails off when she sees tears forming in my eyes.

I know, now, that there is no way around this and resign myself to confessing, if pressed. The anxiety level and my heart rate just jump fifty-percent and forms a lump in my throat.

"Are you wanting to know as Grandma or Dr. Grandma?" I sniff as I quietly ask, hoping for the latter.

Shifting back in her chair, just as quietly, Grandma responds, "Which one do you want to talk to, Marie?"

My thoughts race between my two options. Grandma would be the badger protecting her young, option one, if I told her the truth. Choosing Dr. Kathrynne Johnson, given what I had set into motion, would seem to be the better choice for me, at this point.

"Dr. Kathrynne Johnson, Grandma," I answer, looking down at her hands holding onto mine. Grandma is a retired doctor, having been a practicing psychiatrist and renowned author in sexual therapy studies. I am a case study in one of her books, but she and I are the only ones who know that.

"So ... what does Dr. Grandma need to know?" She responds with a light squeeze to my hand before releasing it.

My thoughts flashed back to the last semester of tenth grade. I knew I felt different than the other girls in school. They were always talking about boys and what boys did to girls and made up stories about what the bad girls did to the bad boys. They also talked about how hot the boys made them feel, down there. I never felt that way about boys. I thought more about kissing girls and how that must feel, although I never acted on it.

That is, until, I met the new transferee who got the locker next to mine. She was in a different academic level track and a grade level ahead of me, so we really didn't have any classes in common, but I got to like her and we often shared lunch together. Once, I forgot a homework paper and had to go to my locker to get it. It felt so strange to be in the halls without anyone else around like, as if, I was sneaking out of class or something. Katelyn was also at her locker.

We talked for a bit, and then on impulse, I pressed her up against the lockers and kissed her full on the lips. We both reacted with shocked looks! I backed off and told her that I was so sorry! But, after getting over her initial shock, she just chuckled, telling me that she got that from all the cute girls at her other school, too. I couldn't believe what I had done! I just kept apologizing over and over, and finally ran off to class, leaving her staring after me as I scurried up the stairs.

After my last class of the day, I dreaded going back to the lockers, but there was no other choice. Katelyn was there, seemingly waiting for me. As I slinked up to my locker she whispered, "I liked it!" A smile spread across her face as she turned and walked away.

My thoughts flittered back to the present as Dr. Johnson patiently waited for my fidgeting to stop and unload my guilt.

"This is a really bad time for me, Grandma. With Kate away at the university, I have been so lonely and up to now, pretty much of a horny self-entertainer." I began by way of explanation to Dr. Grandma.

"I only got to be with Katelyn at her spring break this year. But I could tell she was upset about something that she didn't want me to know. Finally, after we fucked each other silly for the third time, she told me."

Grandma listens, not saying a word, just waiting for me to continue. Our fucking each other was not an unknown to my Grandmother. She knew far worse about us, but held that in doctor patient confidentiality.

I fill in the silence that seems to be sucking the truth out into the open, "Kate told me that she met and has done one other girl, who also has a boyfriend. The two of them are trying to get Kate to try it with them. Grandma, Kate has only been interested in me, not boys!"

But now she is thinking about doing it with a guy. She thinks that if she doesn't like it, she would really wind up in a mess at school having to deal with the breakup and gossip, or whatever you would call it, and still be around the same people in the dorms. I asked her to wait, Grandma, until she comes home this summer to do it. That way, if she tries it here and messes it up, she could just go back to the university without having to stay around someone she fucked here and deal with the fallout of that stuff."

"Marie! What's this have to do with you and Ray?" Grandma asks as I pause in my revelation.

"Well, I think I know Ray pretty well. He's shy, but is really a good guy, not a shithead like some of the other guys I know. You have seen how he keeps trying to sneak a look at my boobs?" I ask. "I know he hasn't done it with anyone yet. And, we have sort of talked about some sex stuff lately, Grandma."

"I want Kate to have a good experience, so she can decide if she wants me, or wants more. I thought that I could put her together with Ray this summer."

Having gotten that much off my conscience, I finally told her about the real story of the horse sex in the barnyard and how that led to Ray taking me into the loft and all the other things we did.

Grandma breaks into my train of thought and asks, "Marie, how far have you thought this through? You say you want to help Kate, but what about Ray and you? You just told me how Ray almost had intercourse with you in the loft. You are not on contraceptives; you could have been impregnated if he hadn't just masturbated on you!"

"Ray promised not to fuck me, Grandma!" I reply, somewhat less assured now that Grandma puts a different perspective on what we did in the loft.

"A promise from the head on his shoulders does not make the same commitment from the head on his dick, Marie. There comes a point in heightened sexual arousal that will break any promise and, at that point, his promise will not stop his cock from getting inside you to fulfill the reason we fuck in the first place!" Dr. Grandma exclaimed, before going on, "You came right up to that breaking point with Ray."

"Marie, you've opened Pandora's box. You think that putting Kate and Ray together would help decide if she likes sex with men? Well, if she decides men are not going to be in her life and she decides to just stay with you, how are the two of you going to deal with Ray? Whether she likes men or not, she will be back at the university this fall and that leaves you, alone, to deal with Ray. He's not going to want to stop having sex and go back to masturbation. It would be just a matter of time, after she leaves, that Ray is going to turn to you! You fostered his sexual awaking. Without Katelyn here, he will be looking to you as her replacement! You initiated him. Are you prepared, now, to accept heterosexual intercourse with him, if Kate stops?" She paused for that question to sink into my dazed thoughts.

Of course, Grandma is right, I begin to realize how complicated this is becoming and that I had truly not thought this through. I didn't think about myself possibly becoming Ray's fuck-hole if this fell through. The idea of a guy sticking it inside of me is so repugnant; adding the thought of pregnancy as a consequence sends psychological shivers down my spine. Now, that Pandora's box is opened, there is no sticking things back into it. I can see, now, that I cannot make things the way they were before. I would just have to live with what I started and continue onward, hoping that I can minimize any collateral damage. This is steamily turning into a cluster-fucking situation! I found that lump in my throat beginning to feel like an anchor headed for the ocean bottom.