byParis Waterman©

"Can I shoot it?" she asked in a friendly tone.

"Nope," I replied, for I was overly possessive about my .22 rifle.

"C'mon, let me shoot at one can, one time," she whined.

I relented and was about to hand her the rifle when it occurred to me that she might not know the first thing about firing a weapon. I did the obvious thing.

"You ever fired a rifle before?"

"No. Is it hard to do?"

"Not really, but there are some things you need to know."

"Like what?"

"Like not pointing it at anyone, especially me," I told her.

"Okay. What else?"

"Do you know how to hold it?"

"Um, maybe you'd better show me," she said, and thereby hooked me.

I moved in close, handed her the rifle and found myself pressed against her thigh and rear-end. I kept talking, but could only think of her flesh in contact with mine. Other than the occasional contact with girls at dance – and that was always very brief – this was the most prolonged contact I'd ever had with a girl. The fact that she never pulled away, or tried to put some slight distance between us caused my blood to boil – and gave me the mother of all hardons.

I knew she knew what was pressing against her as I showed her the proper way to squeeze the trigger. Of course she missed the can. But I realized I felt just awful that she had.

It was as if I had failed her, and so I continued feeding bullets into the .22 and we continued to rub against each other as the lesson went on until I was down to my last four bullets.

"Pling!" The can jumped in the air and spun several times before hitting the ground. Karen committed a sacrilege and dropped the rifle. I didn't notice, for she was hugging me with joy and admiration for my teaching expertise, or so I thought at the time.

There was also no doubt that she had felt the full force of my hardon, since she glanced down at it then quickly moved several feet away and sat down hugging her knees to her chin, providing me with a great view of her white cotton panties.

We were both embarrassed. Time seemed to have slowed down as we looked at one another, and then off into the trees. My rifle lay on the ground, untouched.

I can recall waiting for one of us to speak. The birds were chirping again, now that the rifle was silent; and to this day when I find myself in a quiet place I can summon up their twittering songs and fill the soundless void.

Then, out of the blue, Karen said, "Aubrey, I'll show you mine, if you show me yours."

Now I realize those same words have been spoken time and time again, generation after generation. But to me it was as if they were being uttered for the very first time in recorded history.

Certainly I was confused. Later in life, I would realize that women use this tactic of circling the wagons for a time and then coming directly to the point at the very moment it was least expected. It was a means of attaining, or keeping the upper hand in male/female relationships. But at this age I was merely confused.

Well, maybe confused, but not stupid. "You go first," I told her, suspicious to the last.

Evidently, that was fine with Karen, for she raised her dress, exposing her white cotton underwear. I was entranced by what lay underneath those white cotton panties, and didn't hear her the first time she spoke.

"Aubrey! she said, now you. C'mon, drop your pants."

"Well, uh, I..." I stammered, as she went back to hugging her knees, cutting off my view.

"You're chicken!" she yelled, and I grinned at her to let her know I was just teasing. She punched me in the arm and was about to lower her dress when I finally reacted.

"Okay! Okay!" I said, and unbuckled my belt, unhooked the snap to my jeans, and lowered the zipper. Karen's eyes were riveted to my crotch. The jeans sagged down around my ankles and I stood there in my bright red boxers.

"There, satisfied?" I asked, somewhat embarrassed by the whole thing, but reluctant to end it without having seen my first pussy.

I was already picturing myself regaling the guys about having seen my first pussy, when Karen interrupted my daydream and brought me back to reality.

"Do you hear somebody coming?" she cried out, and the fear in her voice jolted me back to real time. My senses peaked, and I strained to hear if anyone was headed our way. I must have stood there, jeans around my ankles, listening intently for a full minute before Karen said, "Gee, I must have been mistaken, sorry."

"Yeah, all right," I said, trying to disguise my nervousness. "You were gonna show me yours... right?"

"Uh, huh," she said, and stuck her thumbs into the elastic at the top of her underwear and nudged them down to her knees. Karen had a light blonde tuft of hair covering her snatch. I must have gawked at her pussy's crack for a minute or so before she broke into my thoughts, saying,

"Now, yours please."

Her politeness startled me, and I quickly shoved my boxers down to join my jeans. I had been waking up with a stiff hard-on and maintaining it all day long except for those after whacking off moments when it when limp for about twenty minutes.

I showed it to her, and scared the shit out of her, or so it seemed at first. She backed up several steps, almost tripping over her panties, but managing to retain her balance. Her right hand was over her mouth, and her eyes were wide as saucers.

"It ... it's so big!" she said after a long silence.

"Um, yeah, it's been growing bigger of late." I told her. "I mean, I've been waking up each morning and finding it stiff like this, and ... and I really think it's gotten a lot bigger over the last few weeks."

"Really?" she said, looking thoughtful. "Maybe it's like boobs."

"Boob's?" I said; this being a new term to me.

"Titties," she said, and I immediately understood.

"Oh, yeah, do you have... boobs?"

"Of course I do, but they're not really developed yet. Maybe they'll pop out in the next couple years. That's what my mother tells me anyway. She's got nice ones. I hope mine are as nice as hers."

I had seen Karen's mother, and she did have nice ones. If Karen was going to have them too, I decided then and there to be nice to her from then on.

"Um, Aubrey?" The intensity in the air was so thick you could cut it. I noticed that her hands were trembling.


She bit her knuckle nervously, and hugged her arms to her chest. She didn't answer. She just shrugged. She was sort of smiling a little bit though. It was very exciting.

"Whew," she said, "it seems to have gotten hotter."

"No kidding," I replied.

She looked at my erection. It was pulsing and twitching with the beating of my heart. It cried out for attention like the spoiled little brat that it was.

"Can... can I touch it?"

"Sure, why not?" I said.

Her hand reached out, very slowly, very hesitantly. The moment was torture and exhilaration at the same time. Her fingertips were almost there. I held my breath, waiting to feel her soft, warm fingers on my dick. She stopped however, inches away from it.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said, but she would not continue. Her hand remained frozen in air like that, like a photograph, the kind that frustrated me, so close to touching but frozen, torturing me with anticipation.

"So do it then, Karen," I stammered. "Do it!"

Finally she stretched out her hand and I felt her fingertips touch its head, confirming for me in an instant that this wasn't all a delirious dream. I released a heavy sigh. I felt the electric tickle of sexual contact for the very first time.

She tried to put her hand around it, but couldn't. She tried two hands, but her hands were kind of small. She was what I'd call petite today, and her hands didn't quite make it around my boner. I couldn't have been more pleased.

"It's so hot," she whispered. "Wow, it feels funny, like it's alive, or something."

"Yeah, I know." I had no idea what she was talking about, but I wasn't going to do anything to disrupt the mood. Karen held it like that for the longest time, and then reached up with her other hand and began massaging a nipple, rotating it beneath her fingers as she gently squeezed my cock.

I reached over and took hold of her ass, which was the only part I could reach from that angle. She shuddered and jumped a bit at the contact, but seemed to enjoy my touch as much as I enjoyed hers.

Karen had a skinny little ass, but it still felt nice. It was smooth and soft, and very warm to the touch. I gave it a little pinch, and she giggled. Then, to my delight and amazement, she scooted her pelvis over a bit so that I could reach the rest of her.

From there I reached around beneath her rear end and stroked the delicate little peach fuzz of her puffy pink little pussy. She flinched a little at this as well, but did not tell me to stop.

Instead, she squeezed my dick even harder, allowing me to fondle her sweet little cunny (her word for it, not mine) with my inexperienced hand.

I was surprised at its warmth and moistness. I couldn't believe what was happening as I rubbed my fingers back and forth across her folds, exploring its varied textures, and she began to tremble and shudder at my touch.

"It feels nice," I said, "so soft and puffy."

She turned crimson, partly from sexual excitement, partly from self-consciousness, but she did not respond. Instead, holding me with both hands, her trembling fingers began to stoke up and down my rigid pole.

Now that it was in motion her touch felt even more amazing. I'd masturbated myself a hundred times in my room at night, but it had never felt anywhere close to what her small feminine hands were achieving with my dick.

"Do you want to lick it?" I asked, my voice cracking with desperate longing. "For real, I mean."

She shook her head from side to side, but did not speak.

"Please," I begged, "it would feel so nice. Just once, please?"

She shook her head again, and I resigned myself to what was still the greatest feeling I'd ever known, hoping she would relent later on, and I resumed my exploration of her pussy, not knowing that a thing called a "clitoris" would have hastened everything along if I began teasing it.

Still and all, her rate of breathing had intensified, and that gave me hope.

""C'mon, lick it, just the one time," I said, trying to overcome the notion that she wouldn't.


"C'mon, you know you want too. You don't hafta do nothin' you don't want too."

"You promise?" she asked. I realized she was actually considering it, and I almost exploded right then.

"Of course," I said.

"You want me to lick it?" she asked.

I just smiled and nodded my head. Karen studied my face, mostly my eyes, looking for truth in them. She must have found it, because a moment later she gripped my dick at the base, and gave it a slow, deliberate lick. It was the very first time a tongue had touched my cock and it was paradise; an indelible paradise that I can vividly recall to this day.

Unable to contain my excitement, I pushed my pelvis up, causing the head of my dick to come in contact with her tongue. Karen backed away, although still holding tightly to my cock, and rebuked me with a disgusted grimace.

Somehow I realized she was not really angry with me, only warning me against being too forward with her. And then she slowly closed her eyes, put her mouth over the head, and went down just a little, maybe an inch or so.

"Mmmm," she moaned, and I started coming.

I guess she had to swallow some of the first jet. I remember she gagged a little, before spitting some out. But I was still spurting into her open mouth.

The next thing I knew I was flat on my ass. My legs had gone weak and given out on me. I lay on the ground next to Karen, who was still on her knees, a look of amazement on her angelic face, cum running out of her mouth and down her chin.

I helped her clean my seed off her face and hands; and we sat there for a few minutes, each of us thinking about what had just transpired.

"I think you should lick me now," she said, a slight whine in her tone, as if she never expected me to follow through.

"What do I do?" I asked, genuinely interested in what lay in store.

"Just stick your tongue out and start licking right there." She was pointing at her clit. I moved in for a closer look. This was a part of her that I had missed earlier.

"There?" I said, puzzled, and pointing at her clit.

"Yeah, right there. It's my clittie," she told me.

"Lick you, like a Popsicle?"

Karen giggled, and said, "Like a Popsicle."

As I moved closer, she spread her legs further apart. And, with my tongue straight out, I tentatively gave her hooded bud a soft lick.

"Mmmm, feels good," she moaned. "Again, do it again."

In no time at all I was lapping away at her, moving from her suddenly blooming nub to her hot, moist folds, suddenly proud of the power I felt from making her shudder with certain touches of my tongue, hearing her moan from still other touches.

"That's soooo nice, Aubrey, soooo nice!"

I noticed that her hips had begun to churn, sort of grinding her pussy into my mouth. "Oh, yes," she cried quietly, "lick me... yes, lick me faster... lick me harder."

Soon it didn't matter if I was licking her or not. Her hips began bucking, and my mouth was on her one moment and off the next. It dawned on me that Karen was coming as I had; only she came differently than me.

She shoved me away after a while, and I watched in awe as she continued to shake, rattle and roll through her orgasm.

When she calmed down, she reached out, pulled me to her and kissed me. "Thank you. That was wonderful. The best ever," she sighed, and noticed that I was hard again.

"Want me to do you again?" she asked. I nodded my approval, and she wormed her way between my thighs and leaned down. She took more of me into her mouth this time. I had a better view this time too, as I lay back and only had to look down at - or toward my feet to see - her mouth bobbing up and down on me.

For her part, Karen was a willing explorer. She had never attempted a blowjob before, and while unable to accept more than an inch or so down her gullet, she willingly ran her mouth and tongue up and down the length of my hardon. I guided her head with my hands and apparently, she reacted to the tenor of my moans and spent more time at the base of what I would later learn was my corona.

At any rate, she was spending so long pleasuring me that I took myself in hand, and began jerking myself off.

"Tell me when you're gonna shoot off," she crowed. "I don't like it when you do it in my mouth. Besides," she added, her words filled with an awe of my sexual prowess, much as I had of hers earlier, "I wanna see it shoot. It must be like watchin' a cannon go off."

"Please keep licking me," I pleaded.

"Oh, sure," she said quickly. "Just tell me, okay?"

"Yeah, I will," I replied, as I intensified the speed of my stroking.

To my amazement, Karen joined me in the masturbation process, holding firmly with both hands at the base, while I had a grip much closer to the head. Of course she still had her mouth sealed over the head of my cock, sucking and swallowing the saliva generated by her oral proclivities.

"Coming!" I groaned, and to my astonishment, she began to swallow each spurt as it exploded out of my cock. When I had finished coming, I asked her what had happened.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You swallowed. You told me to tell you when I was gonna cum. You were supposed to spit it out," I added accusingly.

"Did you want me to spit it out?" Karen asked, with bulging eyes.

"Um, I don't know," I blurted. This girl had me thoroughly confused.

She began to giggle.

"What?" I asked.

"You're so funny," she said and continued giggling.

"Why am I funny? C'mon, I want to know," I said.

"I wanted you to tell me when you were going to cum so I could get ready for it, that's all, silly."

"Oh," I got out, thoroughly deflated.

"See," she said, "first time I didn't know it was coming and I almost choked to death. So I needed to know, see?"

I nodded my understanding.

"It tastes good. I wanted it all, and I think I got it all too. You don't see any on me or on my clothes, do you?

I looked her over, told her I didn't see any of my stuff on her.

She smiled and kissed me again. "I like you, Aubrey. I really, really do."

I didn't reply, as I was too busy trying to assimilate all that had gone on between us.

We both got dressed, and started walking out of the woods. "Want to do it again?" I asked, hopefully.

"Sure," she replied quickly. "You make me feel... wonderful."

"Right here, after school, tomorrow?" I asked.

"Okay," Karen replied before hugging me tight, and kissing me once more.

I found that I liked being hugged by her and promised myself that I would hug her the next day. Maybe even kiss her too.


Ah, youth. Of course I couldn't wait to tell my so-called best friends, Andy and Matt about my sexual conquest.

Matt happened to be Japanese, while Andy's family had recently migrated from Germany. Of course I told them what had happened. Of course they called me a liar.

Of course, I promised them they could come to the woods with me and see for themselves. Of course, I realized later that Karen would never go for it.

Except that she did. "You told them about us?"

she said. Her voice was calm, her facial expression stoic, but her body appeared deflated.

"Um, yeah," I replied nervously.

"Okay," Karen answered, as if accepting a judge's verdict that would send her away for many long years. "Just this once, all right?" But I could tell her heart wasn't in it. I should have cancelled everything, then and there. But I didn't.

And so the following afternoon, the three of us waited with a purloined blanket at the appointed spot in the woods. Me, half hoping Karen wouldn't show up, half hoping she would. I was excited at the idea of her sucking on my cock and even more at the thought of watching her suck off Andy and Matt.

She was late, and Matt began to berate me, saying things like, "You're so full of shit, Aubrey, so full of shit."

For his part, Andy was quiet, but I knew he too felt that I had lied to them.

They were getting ready to leave when we all heard the unmistakable sound of leaves crunching as someone approached. A moment later, Karen appeared, and glumly looked at each of us in turn, before saying, "So, what do you guys want?"

Neither Matt nor Andy was capable of speech, leaving that important task to me. "You know, Karen," I managed after a long pause.

"No, I don't know. You have to tell me."

"We..." I began then coughed. "We, um, we want you to blow us."

"You want me to blow you," Karen said straight-faced, "All of you?"

"Um, yeah, that's right," I said. Andy was shuffling his feet back and forth. Matt couldn't take his eyes off Karen's skinny body.

"I didn't expect you to bring your friends along, Aubrey," Karen said accusingly. Her arms were crossed over her bump-less chest, and she seemed to mull things over for a full minute, and then asked, "Well, what do I get out of it?"

Andy slowly backed away.

"We ... we could lick you down there, you know?"

I offered. That appeared to generate some interest on her part. She licked her lips and nodded her head up and down in confirmation.

"Do they agree with you?" she asked, seeking unanimous approval.

I looked at Andy and Matt in turn.

"Guys?" I asked tentatively; we had not discussed this possibility. We had talked of such things in the past and, for the most part, had agreed it was a disgusting act; one that we would not partake in as (a) a girl's pussy was rumored to have not only an unpalatable odor but an awful taste, much like piss, and (b) if one did that, then one might as well suck a cock, making one a queer, and that was something we were all repelled by.

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byParis Waterman© 4 comments/ 125122 views/ 68 favorites

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