Martin or Mickey

"Mickey," I said rather breathlessly, "that's enough for now."

You'd think one of us would learn through repetition. I always seem to assume that Mickey will stop when asked. He always seems to assume that I'm just kidding and he doesn't really need to stop. That's what was happening right now.

"Michael," I said, speaking a little more forcefully, "I said that's enough."

His hand kept on groping me as he tried to push me onto my back, his intentions clear. Fortunately for me I had his intentions well in hand. At least, I had a firm grasp on his erection. My grip changed from firm to hard, giving Mickey an unwelcome jolt. He hesitated and I threw in the clincher.

"If you don't want me to pick you up by this convenient handle, Mickey, it might be advisable to back off now."

He backed off. He wasn't going to risk me crushing his testicles again. Yes, I said again. He got a little too carried away once.

"You're a teasing bitch," he muttered, half seriously.

"No, I'm not," I said defensively. "You knew before we even started where the limits were. You might want to push past those limits but it doesn't mean that I'm going to." He had pushed past and I'd let him, but only to a certain extent.

"You have to stop rushing me," I told him. "We'll go further when I'm ready to go further and not before. If I'm going to lose my virginity it's because I'm ready to or because you get me so aroused that I can't stop. You haven't reached that point yet. At least, not quite," I admitted, because things had been rather hot and heavy for a while and I had considered letting him go further. A saner council (and nerves) had prevailed.

I didn't really see that he had much to complain about. He knew the limits as well as I did and even he would have to admit that we were stretching those limits every time we did some serious pashing. It probably wouldn't be all that much longer and he'd get what he wanted. I just wanted to be in a position that it would be when I wanted it as well.

We straightened our clothes which included me having to put my panties back on, despite his suggestion that I leave them off. I saw no reason to put too much temptation on his path. He was already a little too adept at removing those panties. I might have to start wearing jeans when I saw him. I suspected that if I did it would be the equivalent of consent because if he could get my jeans off I wouldn't be in a position to demurely push my dress down to cover up.

When he'd cooled down a little he asked if I'd be dropping by his place the next day. He must have sensed that I was a little dubious about the invite after what had just taken place as he laughed.

"Don't worry. I won't be able to jump you. My father will be home and I don't have anything planned except for tuning this old bomb. She's been running a bit ragged lately."

Mickey no longer had a mother and lived with his father and little sister. I liked both his sister and his father. Suzie was a real little sweetie and his father was one reason I liked Mickey. I could see by looking at Martin that Mickey would grow into a fine man, once he got past his teenage arrogance. It's odd, we were both eighteen but at times I felt several years older than him.

"I have some things I have to do in the morning," I temporised, "but I should be free after lunch. I'll try to come around then."

No commitment, but we both knew I'd be almost certain to turn up unless something drastic happened.

When I arrived at Mickey's place the next day it was just in time to see Suzie leaving with a friend. They were wearing netball uniforms and I guessed they'd be gone for the afternoon. Martin's car was parked on the road so I assumed that he'd parked it there to keep out of the way while Mickey worked on his car. Normally Mickey's car was the one on the road.

Martin answered the door.

"Come on in, Rita," he said with a smile. "Michael has just gone for a quick trip down to the mall as a road test of his magnificent skills with fixing anything automotive. He'll only be five minutes. Would you care for a cup of coffee while you wait?"

He made up the coffee and we sat at the kitchen table talking about nothing in particular. Finally he broached a subject bound to make any girl uncomfortable.

"So, how's it going with Michael?" he asked. "Everything OK."

"Everything's fine," I replied with a slight blush. "Why would you think it wouldn't be?"

"Oh, perhaps because Michael was so grouchy when he got home last night. He's not trying to come on too strong, is he?"

For once I was able to give Martin a meaningful look.

"Ah, have you ever known a boy or man who doesn't?" I asked. "Present company not excepted."

"Point taken," he agreed. "Ah, if you do find him going overboard I can always whisper a word in his ear to get him to back off a little."

"The only thing wrong with that is that I wouldn't rat on him and he wouldn't try to go past the line using muscle. Persuasion, yes, but not muscle. Besides, I can handle him. He's still a bit juvenile, you know."

"Yes, I did know, but I didn't know if you did. Poor Michael."

"Eh? What do you mean?"

"Whatever you and he might be thinking you're not going to be finishing up in bed with him. You've grown away from him without realising it."

I bridled at his blunt speaking, blushing slightly. Still, now that he'd put it out there in the open I had to admit it was true. I sighed.

"You shouldn't have told me that," I grumbled. "Now I'm going to have to dump him."

"Just because you've outgrown him?"

I nodded. "Yes. It wouldn't be fair to him to lead him on." I sighed. Now I was going to have to start looking for a compatible companion. Mickey had been safe, I now realised.

At that point there was a timely interruption as Martin's phone rang. He said yes a couple of times, asked what happened and where are you going, made some sort of noise indicating agreement and hung up.

"That was Michael," he told me. "It appears that his automotive skills were a little below par today. Greg is with him and is going to give him a tow to Greg's place, as Greg has a decent workshop, and hopefully he can resolve the problem. Ah, Greg is also quite a reasonable mechanic."

I sighed, finished my coffee, and put the cup on the sink.

"I guess that if Mickey isn't going to be back any time soon it would be a waste of time my waiting for him," I said.

Martin walked next to me as I headed towards the front door. Martin's front door is in a little alcove in the corner of the front room. As we walked through the room Martin stopped and took hold of my arm. At the same time he sat down on one of the big easy chairs, pulling me down onto his lap.

"I've been wanting to do this for a while," he said, "but it wouldn't've been fair if you were continuing to see Michael."

That was the only warning I got before he was kissing me. I was so surprised that I just sat there like a dummy. He lifted his head wand winked at me.

"You can do better than that," he told me. "Try again."

With that he was kissing me again but at least this time I had the nous to kiss him back. I'm not saying stars flashed and bells rang but he was certainly practised in the art of lip to lip communication. When he finally lifted his head again I could still feel him all the way down to my toes.

He didn't really lift his head fully away. It was more of a case that his lips went exploring. Did you know men could undo buttons with their teeth? I didn't, but it's the only explanation I could give for the way the buttons on my blouse seemed to give way and allow him access to my cleavage. I know he didn't use his hands as one was on my back and the other was stroking my leg.

I made the mistake of concentrating on the hand that was on my leg. It had managed to slip between my legs and he was rubbing me in what could be considered a slightly too intimate manner. I twisted about a little to discourage him and that only seemed to press his hand more firmly against me.

I was about to say something about how maybe he should shift his hand when his mouth closed over one of my nipples and he was lightly sucking on it. I was like, "What? How?" when I detected an unfamiliar looseness where my bra was concerned. That blasted hand rubbing my back wasn't just there to help hold me in position. He'd had the gall to unclip my bra without me even noticing. I had to give him marks for smoothness.

I hastily pushed at his head, slightly surprised to find him willing to lift it without contesting.

"Am I being a little selfish?" he asked. "How about I let you play with this."

He took my hand and slipped it between our bodies. Also between the sides of his open fly and onto what should have remained hidden. It turned out that Martin wore boxers under his trousers and something had escaped and was looking around. Apparently I was meant to control it.

I didn't mind doing that actually. If I had Mickey's cock in my hand it was remarkable easy to control him. Just tighten my grip and threaten something nasty and he was putty in my hands. I had no doubt that Martin would be similar.

Martin was certainly a lot more devious. I was just running my hand over his cock, purely out of an academic interest, when I felt his fingers slip between my lips and start exploring internally. I was wondering how he'd done this while I was wearing panties and then spotted my panties down around my knees. That conniving rat must have managed to slip them down while I was wondering what I should do about that cock I'd suddenly found in my hands.

This was about the point where I'd call a halt with Micky. We'd both be breathing hard and enjoying ourselves but it would be up to me to calm things down. Fortunately Martin, being older, would have more self-control, so I just let it go for a while.

His mouth had shifted to my breast and nipples again, but he didn't seem to be breathing hard so I guessed he was still doing alright, just having a little casual fun touching me. And as far as I was concerned it was just harmless fun.

I'm not totally sure what happened next. Yes, I knew that both my blouse and bra were undone giving Martin free access to my breasts, and I also knew that he'd lowered my panties. (Not that I permitted it but he distracted me.) Even with all that I felt I could control things. After all, I did have hold of his joy stick and boys are wary about those things.

What I didn't expect was for Martin to drop one hand over the side of the chair and pull a lever. I knew that he had recliner chairs but I'd never seen them in the reclining position before. The chair tilted back and Martin fell back, adjusting my position on his lap as he went.

By the time everything had stopped moving Martin was lying flat on his back and I was straddling him. Of more immediate concern, instead of holding an erection far away from my tender young body I seemed to be holding it right next to my mound, practically pressing the length of it against my slit.

I gave him a very confused look, mainly because I was feeling very confused. If I looked straight down I could see my bare breasts bouncing slightly in time to my breathing and below that, my hand clutching hold of his cock, far too perilously close to my pussy.

He smiled up at me.

"All you have to do is raise yourself on your knees slightly, adjust the position you're holding me in, and then settle down. Slowly would be best."

I swallowed nervously.

"Do you really think I'm going to. . .?" My voice trailed away, unable to say it.

"Um, yes," he said, still smiling, "but it's your choice."

I glared at him. Damned right it was my choice. If I wanted to I could be off him in an instant and it wouldn't take but seconds to put my clothes in order. I gave him a hard look for a couple of seconds. Then my eyes dropped again. His cock was still there, its long hard length now pressed hotly against my cleft. Had I pushed it there? Well, I must have, seeing I was the one holding it.

It would be easy. All I had to do was rise up on my knees for a moment and move his silly cock a few inches. I'd have to sink a lot more inches than the few it would take me to position him. I was still breathing hard, wondering what I should do. Run away, was the right answer, but for some reason that felt cowardly. I was a grown woman. I could handle this. I had to start somewhere, sometime. Why not now?

I was doing it before I knew I'd made the decision to do it. I raised myself up, adjusted the position of his cock, and lowered myself down onto it.

Nearly, anyway. I lowered myself, gave a scared squeak when I felt his cock starting to enter me, and then a louder frightened squeak when I felt him pressing against my hymen. At that point I froze.

"Just relax," Martin said softly. "No rush. You feel good just the way you are."

His voice kept on, speaking softly, and I felt myself slowly relaxing, though not enough to press down any harder on that cock. I was of half a mind to raise myself up off him and see how he liked that.

I hadn't noticed his hands had moved to my hips. The only contact that I was really aware of was between my legs, pressing up. When he gave a slight pull on my hips and at the same time pushed up a little with his cock I was totally unprepared and I was giving a yowl of surprised pain. Also, with that done, I now found myself sinking down onto him, and it was me doing the sinking. He wasn't thrusting up or pulling me further down. He was just letting me settle down onto him.

"You, you." I didn't know what to call him.

"If you didn't go through with it now how would you feel the next time you were in this sort of situation?" He put the question very gently but I knew just what he meant. If I didn't do it now it would have been a lot harder next time. I'd have been a lot more afraid of getting into this sort of position. As it was I didn't know how I felt.

I just gave him a nasty look and he laughed. I suppose it was rather funny. There I was glaring daggers at him while at the same time I was letting myself slowly settle onto him, his cock sinking in deeper with every passing moment.

Finally I came to a halt and just looked at me. He gave me a wink.

"Just rock back and forth a little," he said. "You don't need to do anything drastic."

I started doing that, leaning towards him and then leaning back, feeling his cock dragging back against my passage, stirring me up. OK. I'll admit I was already stirred up or we'd never have gotten this far. That cock rubbing against me was just building on what I was feeling.

Martin's hands came up and landed on my breasts, moving with them as I moved, keeping up a gentle massage of them, and I could feel the effects of that massage also filtering through me and touching upon my arousal.

I was feeling content. My eyes closed and I just rocked gently in place, ignoring the world and letting these feelings develop. I don't know how long this went on. It just did and I let it. Let it? Ha, I was actively encouraging it and loving it.

The first thing I noticed that indicated that something had changed was that the pressure against my breasts had changed. My eyes eased open and I tried to make sense of what was happening. Martin's shirt was open and his chest was bare (excluding hair) and my breasts were pressed firmly against him. This sort of thing didn't gel with me sitting on top of him and rocking.

Oh my. It seemed that I was now bobbing up and down on his cock, moving quite rapidly. And it was me doing the bobbing. Yes, Martin was helping, quite happily thrusting up into me, but it seemed to me that I was doing the majority of the work. Of course, that might have been my ignorance, but I felt that I was learning rapidly.

Martin was watching me and when he saw awareness on my surrounding filter through to me he winked at me. At the same time his hands closed over my bottom very firmly, and he started thrusting quite a bit more strongly. I was totally lost from that point on.

I was gasping, moving urgently against him, knowing exactly what was about to happen and eager to greet it.

I could feel the explosion coming, and I was almost screaming when my climax hit me.

Afterwards I was sitting up again, still straddling Martin, his cock still inside me. He was reaching up and stroking my breasts, looking quite happy to do so. I know I was content to let him.

That was the position when the front door opened and Michael came barging through. (It was funny how I seemed to have suddenly switched from thinking of him as Mickey to Michael.) He came to a screeching halt, staring at us with wide eyes.

"He raped me," I said quickly, pointing at Martin.

Martin just laughed and Michael looked disgusted.

"Riiight," he said, stalking into the house. I heard his door slam and winced.

"He'll get over it," said Martin. "Raped you?"

"I panicked," I admitted. "Do you think he believed me?"

Martin just looked at me and I sighed. He was lying on a recliner chair that would tilt over if there was a violent struggle, with me sitting on top of him. I know I wouldn't have believed me. Oh well. It appears that the dumping had come faster than expected.