Andi's Summer - Day 01

Fuck! How could I possibly get through the entire summer without finding a penis to play with?

That silent question worried me as I preened naked in front of the full length mirror in my bedroom preparing to go to church with my mother. I had just reached the age of consent to any and all sexual adventures and I was stuck in this super boring hick town until this fall when I would leave for college where I intended to become very popular with the men on campus while remaining a virgin.

Last summer I had found some books and magazines; one which fascinated me. It was about a co-ed that sucked cocks for fun and profit. I had read, studied and imagined being just like Roxi; the best cock-sucker each and every man I seduced (or let seduce me) had ever met. I was so ready. Well, I was prepared mentally and spiritually but I had no physical experience, save for my own self-satisfying experiments and indulgences that had become daily habits.

Little did I realize that today; just a week after my 18th birthday and two days after my high school graduation my prospects for the summer were about to change dramatically.

At our after-services summertime monthly church barbeque I had an embarrassing yet completely unexpected exciting naughty experience. Mr. Cooper, the owner of the second-hand store squeezed in on the right end of the bench next to me at one of the picnic tables when there were other less crowed tables available, I assumed he wanted to talk with someone at the table. His presence interrupted my daydreaming about Princess Charming as I always did at church to shut out the babble of the believers.

He was a gentle, bald, bearded hippy, at least forty years old so when he pressed on my hips with his to scoot me over I thought nothing of it. He was a church deacon and knew my mother and father well. He was always flirting with my mother; but then he flirted with all the ladies. He was a dapper ladies' man. When his hidden left hand under the table rested on my thigh I thought it had to be an unconscious accident. He immediately engaged several of the adults at the table in general good-natured conversation.

The weight and the warmth of his hand felt good. When he squeezed my thigh I realized that it wasn't an unconscious mistake; he knew what he was doing. I knew I should brush his hand away, but I didn't. It felt too good! I felt all tingly, and was overwhelmed with mixed emotions. I asked myself, "What would Roxi do?"

My lack of negative response must have implied that I welcomed his trespass, which I did - sort of. He began to rock my leg gently and slide his hand up my thigh under my summer dress. I could have stopped him a thousand different ways, yet it felt so exciting to be secretly seized and possessed by this adult male.

I let his palm rest on my pantie-covered mound and I felt his thumb separate my vulva and several of his fingers begin to tap on my button which alerted all my nerve endings especially those surrounding my womanhood. I spread my legs to assist him knowing that this was so wrong, so very wrong.

Just ten feet away my mother and Aunt Georgia, on a rare visit to our church with Mom sat at the next table facing me. Aunt Georgia nudged my mother and they both seemed to be looking under the table where I sat. Color rushed to my face as I suspected they could see what Mr. Cooper was doing to me, but I quickly rationalized that the two small children across from me blocked their view of his assault.

Surely if they could see they would have come to my rescue, and since they remained calm I assumed that I could tolerate whatever Mr. Cooper was doing because it was quite nice even though it was so very wicked.

For the next ten minutes my conscious world was in slow motion and my subconscious being was whirling out of control. I felt my vulva swell and open in invitation. He worked his fingers inside my panties, each digit applying a solitary pressure in turn from the bottom to the top of my slit and return as if he were practicing the scales on a musical instrument.

He twisted his hand; the outer edges brushing against my open thighs and a long lone finger entered my juicy sanctuary and curled up to compel the inner base of my outer nub to celebrate as his thumb swirled around my clit.

My pussy began contracting and expanding under his heated wet palm. Keeping my upper torso as still as possible I began to roll my hips forward and back to accelerate the sexual trauma racing through my body. What was wrong with me? Inexplicably, I was letting an adult trespasser breach my innocence.

Mr. Cooper's experienced hand; his finger, thumb and palm had me on the brink. I could smell myself. When he inserted a second finger inside me the combination of his efforts made me imagine what his cock would feel like thrusting up inside me. Surely, my own fingers, small bottles and vegetables that preceded his digital invasion had prepared me for such an event.

In an erotic daze I reached over and palmed his thigh my fingers searching for his manhood. I was promptly gratified by finding his hot sausage-like member stretched out against his leg which was much larger than the hot dog on my plate. I couldn't rationalize my scandalous behavior.

I had no control, yet in a moment of clarity and after a not-so subtle fingertip squeeze I released my fingers, slid my palm up and down his thigh as a sign of interest and returned my hand above the table.

I had yet to look directly at Mr. Cooper. With a sudden inspiration I removed the grilled facsimile of my most favorite male appendage, placed it deep in my mouth, turned to him and winked then slid it in and out of my puckered lips in what I thought was an obvious suggestion.

Lost in my own performance I had ignored his continuous exploration of my inner sanctum. He had me! He had me right there; beyond the brink. I couldn't hold back the instantaneous flow and explosion. I squeezed my legs together, nearly fainted, and dropped my head and began coughing as if choking on my food to cover my convulsions.

Everyone expressed concern and wily old Mr. Cooper's accomplished hand disengaged quickly and apparent to all around embraced my torso while exploring my heaving breasts with one clutching and exploring hand while pummeling my back with the other as if aiding me in my crisis.

The old coot was pinching one of my nipples right there in front of everyone. When I regained my breath Mr. Cooper was commended for his quick thinking by all those at the table and even passers-by who stopped to watch my rescue. I didn't know if I should be grateful or enraged.

Mom and Aunt Georgia stood behind the other side of the table apparently relieved that I was alright. Did Mom have a faint smirk added to her smile? Why did Aunt Georgia wink at me?

I made a self-conscious apology to everyone and no one in particular and left the table. Dumping my paper plate in the trash bin I made my way to the restroom down in the basement of the church. I needed to check the damage in my panties.

I was sure I had wet myself. In one of the stalls I used wadded tissue to dry the excessive gooey moisture from the gusset of my panties. I reflected that I had never cum so quickly and hard in my sequestered self-titillations.

I couldn't help myself; I sat down on the commode and began to stimulate my still sticky button while pulling and pinching the nipple Mr. Cooper hadn't assaulted. I relived my recent adventure hoping that I could make sense of it. I fondled my breasts and flicked my nipples.

My state of confusion didn't help my efforts; minutes went by and I finally gave up in frustration. I splashed off my face and soaped my hands twice to get rid of any evidence of what I had been doing. I was startled as I left the restroom.

Mr. Cooper was leaning against the wall across from the door with a confident expression.

"I wanted to make sure you were OK Andi; you were in there long enough to top yourself off."

Was he all-knowing; did he really know what I had been up to? He spread out his arms and without conscious thought I stepped into his arms to be comforted laying my head against his chest.

"Reach down and touch me again, Andi. I know you want to." My hand found its way to his groin and pressed against it. His penis, the likes of which I had only seen in pictures and diagrams was hard and bulged against his seersucker trousers. The heat radiating appendage throbbed against my palm calling for more intimate attention from me.

I had read about the needs of a man and the many satisfactions a woman could perform to satisfy them. Was this my chance to finally practice some of them ahead of my self-imposed time table to wait until I got to college to let myself be me?

"See what you did to me? Go ahead, unzip me and reach inside."

Was Mr. Cooper reading my mind? That was exactly what I wanted to do. I was self-conscious and knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway. The teeth of his open zipper grazed the back of my hand as I reached in. I had to fish around to pull him out of his underwear. As it sprang free I was enthralled.

My eyes blurred just when I needed clear eyesight. The feeling of the hot flesh in the palm of my right hand made my knees weak. Mr. Cooper misunderstood the sudden dip in my posture.

"Sure Andi, you can do that if you want."

He pressed my shoulders and I sank to my knees. For the second time in my life I had a real penis in my hand. For the first time I could see a firm penis clearly as it was only inches from my face and pointed right at my mouth.

The crown was peeking out of his thick pleated foreskin. It was curved; shaped like and the size of a medium banana with which I was intimately orally familiar, although cucumbers were my current toy of choice.

His scrotum and testicles were partially hidden behind his salt and pepper pubic hair. I reached out and cupped his pouch with the fingertips of my left hand. I knew what he wanted - what I wanted. I could do this!

"Go ahead kiss it, Andi."

I looked up and was surprised that his head was bowed and his eyes were closed. Strangely, that gave me the privacy and confidence I needed. I felt my pussy pulsate and my tummy tremble as I drooled in anticipation. I licked my lips and leaned forward.

The rusted hinges on the outer door upstairs squeaked and banged as a screeching child being chased by another ran across the foyer and into the stairwell.

I shot up to my feet as if discharged from a cannon and stammered, "We can't do this; not here in church!" Was I suggesting I wanted to do more with Mr. Cooper, just somewhere else?

This old man wasn't the Prince Charming I had envisioned being my first conquest, yet I knew he would be so very grateful to have a young girl practice her secret desire on him. My confusion led me to want to escape.

"You're right Andi; stop by the store later this week, I have a special birthday gift for you."

Without responding I turned and ran to the stairs past the young girl and boy now tussling at the foot of the steps.

Out of the building I found my mother still at her table and asked if I could go home and with some concern as to why I wanted to leave the festivities early she gave me permission.

My mother had a gleam in her eye as if she knew what I had just experienced. Aunt Georgia seated next to Mom seemed to share in the unspoken mirth. I dismissed the possibility that they could even imagine what an exciting, though harrowing and interrupted adventure I was rushing away from.

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In my room I stripped off my dress and bra. My nipples were still sensitive and I pinched and pulled at them seeking some sort of relief which only made matters worse. I hitched up my panties which forced the still wet gusset up inside my smoldering womanhood.

In front of my mirror I took stock of myself for the umpteenth thousandth time. My thick dark wavy and finger-combed boyish short hair didn't attract unwanted attention. At 5'6", 115-120 pounds my 34-20-36 measurements gave me an hourglass figure from the front; in profile my sway-backed bubble butt looked oversized compared to my breasts. I hoped they would have a growth spurt in the near future to balance me out. My dark pink nipples and light pink aureoles sat high nearly pointing upward. My thick curly pubic hair concealed my lips and all they contained.

I exercised nude every morning and every evening in front of my mirror because I wanted to practice being carefree and comfortable in my own skin. I didn't exercise to build muscles; I did so I would be agile and limber.

Secretly I pretended that Prince Charming was watching my reflection in the mirror. Some of my calisthenics provided a very naughty and captivating view of my bits and pieces. Those private gyrations brought a self-satisfied smile inside and out. I stripped off my panties and chewed on and tasted the sticky gusset.

I threw myself down on the bed on my back, grabbed onto the brass railed headboard, spread my legs and stared up at the ceiling. I pretended that I was bound and unable to escape so I wouldn't start in on myself. I had been pleasuring myself for several years. I had fantasized and imagined all sorts of sexual adventures.

Why had I let Mr. Cooper take advantage of me? He certainly wasn't the handsome Prince Charming I had anticipated being the first adult man to have his way with me. Was I so desperate to be wanted, needed and pleasured by a man that I let an ancient codger older than my father fondle and easily arouse me? Was I doomed to an eternity in hell?

My romanticized musings in the past had been enhanced and enriched by a treasure trove of girly magazines and pocket novels I had found by chance one early morning almost a year ago in the Gilmore's trash can in the alley between our homes. My serious sexual education began that day.

Georgia Gilmore was my mother's best friend. She had never outgrown being a cheerleader in high school with Mom. She was always so gay and joyful; so feminine and fashionably chic. She seemed to float rather than walk as other people did and flirted with everyone, male or female.

Mom was just the opposite. She had a permanent dimpled smile, but she was very reserved and cautious around everyone. She was an interested listener but seldom started a conversation, letting Aunt Georgia take center stage. Less stylish, she usually wore a blouse or sweater set and slacks most of the time.

There was no doubt that I took after my mother, although she encouraged me to be less introverted. Everyone mistook my sullen persona for my true nature when in fact I was hiding and protecting my true uninhibited self from exposure. I had learned as early as middle school that girly girls drew too much attention too soon and had decided that I would wait to blossom when I reached college.

Mom and Aunt Georgia were inseparable; they had their morning coffee together every day without fail and watched the afternoon soap opera together while dinner was in the oven. They went out 'shopping' or for a 'long lunch' once or twice a week.

Until recently their special treat was to go into the city almost every Wednesday evening to get 'away from it all.'

They both acted so prim and proper that I assumed the dirty literature was Mr. Gilmore's. My new library was mostly about lesbians and prostitutes. I would never have guessed Uncle Clifton; our mild mannered town pharmacist was a pervert.

The oversized English pin-up magazines demonstrated how a hot girl could best pose for a man or men. I spent hours and hours practicing every pose I viewed in front of my mirror.

In the undersized colorful photo journals of revealing explicit sexual positions I read the English captions of the multi-lingual (Swedish, French and German) descriptions.

I found the adult pocket novels stimulated my imagination with innovative endeavors to ponder. Surely, the adults I knew, with the exception of Mr. Gilmore and Mr. Cooper didn't know of these uninhibited activities that fascinated me. From my life-long observations my conventional parents were definitely clueless about these exceptional undertakings.

I read the lesbian novels with interest, but there wasn't much for a normal girl to learn as far as performances went, after all a girl was meant to be with a man; although, the descriptions of romantic intimacy did influence me about how I wanted to be treated.

The stories about successful hookers and whores had pages and pages of enlightened passages that disclosed what men of all sorts expected and appreciated that I absorbed, pondered and filed away for future use.

Being desired and subsidized by many men was certainly an open-minded and thrill-seeking girl's worthwhile goal. Mr. Cooper was the first adult male to give me at least part of a new knowledge of the ultimate feminine ecstasy.

In one moment I knew I would never, ever visit Mr. Cooper's store this week - birthday present or not. In the next instant I wondered what he might do to me if I did. What would he let me do? I began to imagine one scenario after the another. I started making a mental list of the things I wouldn't let him do.

He wasn't going to fuck me - no way - I must remain a virgin. I couldn't possibly let him see me completely naked. If I let him give me the same pleasure he had today would he in turn let me not only feel his penis, explore, study and taste it so I would be ready when Prince Charming came along? He could tutor me in a manner of speaking.

Did I dare suck the taffy flavored cum out of his cock? I orgasmed with that thought; my fingers having crept with stealth to my apex of sensitivity and did what they accomplished so well for me.

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