Pure-Bred

 

Jenny Gallagher was painfully shy. She was the kind
of girl you could be in a class with all semester and
never realize she was there until the last day of
class, when she tripped on a desk leg or sneezed during
the final. She was a nonentity at my high school.

One day I decided to say something to her. I had
literally never seen a person even speak to her about
anything. Even the teachers seemed to sense that she
was too shy to be called on during class, and not one
of them ever tried to draw her out that I could see.

Guys were not interested in Jenny, even though if you
looked carefully you could see that she probably had a
decent body hidden under those shapeless, frumpy
dresses, and she certainly had a nice face; when you
could see it, that is, which was seldom. She usually
had it turned toward the ground, or buried in a book,
or hiding behind her long, dark black hair.

She always ate lunch alone, sitting on the brick
retaining wall that surrounded the base of the flag-
pole. It was out of the way, and there was only enough
sitting space for two people, sitting somewhat close.
There was little chance of anyone sitting next to her,
so she was “safe” there.

I don’t know what made me want to approach her: per-
haps it was just curiosity, perhaps even a touch of
pity. It was just that I had begun to notice her more,
sitting in the back corner of my math class, hiding in
the last clarinet row in orchestra, and sitting on that
obscure brick wall, and I felt some strange desire to
at least hear what her voice sounded like.

So at lunch time, I decided to join her on her wall.

“Excuse, me. Is there anyone sitting there?” I said,
having stepped up quietly to a position directly in
front of her.

She jumped a little, and looked up from her sandwich,
long locks of her jet black hair sweeping into her
eyes. She pulled the hair away with a fingertip in a
gesture that would have gone perfectly with pushing
glasses up on her nose, if she wore them. She said
nothing.

“Uh, can I sit there?” I pointed to the spot next to
her on the planter.

She lowered her gaze again, and nodded, scooting to
one side and hunching her shoulders.

We sat for several moments, munching our lunch, be-
fore I spoke.

“So, I think we’re in Mr. Hardy’s math class to-
gether,” I said.

She nodded again, quickly, never looking up.

“Yeah. So, anyway, did you understand that stuff to-
day about cross multiplying ratios?” I had understood
it fairly well, but perhaps a direct question might
get her to speak.

She shook her head.

“Me neither. I’m just not that good at math.” That
was true enough. She responded with silence.

I suddenly felt like I was really bothering her, that
I had invaded someone’s very private space, and I felt
guilty. “Look,” I said, “I’m sorry if I bothered you.
Really. I didn’t mean to.” I got up to leave.

I thought I heard her make some noise, like “Juh”
behind me, and I turned to look, but she was still
staring down, still hunched into a protective little
ball. I left.

I figured that would be it – she’d be terrified of
me now, and I’d never even hear her speak. But the
next day I caught her looking at me in math class, and
then again across the lunch quad as she sat on her wall
and I stood in the lunch line. Her look told me noth-
ing, really, just sort of a blankish stare that ended
as soon as she realized I was looking back. But the
mere fact that she was looking was significant, given
that I’d never seen her look at
anyone before.

So I thought I’d try again.

The next day at lunch, I approached her retaining
wall again. She seemed subtley different somehow, but
I could not put my finger on it at first. At first, I
made no move to sit with her, but stood nearby, looking
at the tree that stood next to the flagpole.

Finally, I spoke: “Hi Jenny.” I did not turn to look,
figuring that she’d have to say something to such a
casual greeting, that she should not be so rude as to
just ignore me.

“Hi,” she said after a moment, her voice very small
but notably soft and lovely.

Surprised at finally hearing her voice, I turned to
look at her, then realized what the change was that I
had sensed. Her hair, which was usually hanging
straight in front of her face, had obviously had some
attention. It looked clean and soft, curving away from
her face in a gentle wave.

I’d never seen evidence that she’d paid attention to
her hair before; now she’d obviously done something to
it. For me?

“Uh, do you mind if I share the wall with you again?
I promise to keep quiet,” I said. She looked up at me,
our eyes meeting briefly, a blaze of brilliant green
flashing in hers. I smiled, trying to look harmless,
and she nodded, looking back down to her food.

We ate in silence for what felt like an hour, but
was certainly no more than 10 minutes. I tried to
concentrate on my food, but I also noticed that she
smelled very nice, like a lemon grove or a tea shop,
as though she had put on some kind of old fashioned
perfume.

There was a decided tension between us, but I could
not identify it.

I was surprised when she was the first to speak, or
almost speak.

“I-I-I,” she began, then gulped her breath, “d-d-dont
m-m-m-ind if you, tuh-tuh-tuh…. tuh….” Her face
grimaced as I looked at her, obviously struggling to
speak, but determined. “Tuh-tuh talk.”

I stared at her, perhaps a bit too long, and she
looked mortified. I had heard her secret – she was a
stutterer, and a pretty severe one. It took me a moment
to realize that my stare was telling her I was disgust-
ed by her problem, and as she began to rise, to run
away, I tried quickly to explain.

“W-Wait,” I said, my old stutter returning. “I
underst-st-stand…”

She turned to look back at me, rage and disappoint-
ment in her eyes, then began to walk away quickly. She
thought I was mocking her, of course. How could I ex-
plain? The tension of the moment had brought back the
old monster, the stutter that had plagued me when I was
in grade school. I had to tell her, or she’d think I
was an asshole, like so many who had probably made fun
of her throughout her life, and somehow that seemed
like the worst thing that could happen.

I ran after her, trying to tell her that I was not
making fun of her, but the more I tried to speak,
concentrating on not stuttering, naturally the more I
stuttered. That’s how it works. She escaped into the
girls bathroom and would not emerge. I felt horrible.

For the next week I tried in vain to talk to her.
Her radar was up for me, and whenever I’d approach her
wall, or walk up next to her after math, she’d slink
away. Her hair was back to a stringy mop, and she was
dressing in even more somber clothing than usual.

Finally, frustrated and angry at myself, I had the
presence of mind to write her a note and slip in into
her locker.

-=*=-

“Dear Jenny, I know it must seem to
you that I am making fun of your speech
problem, but please believe me that I am
not. I use to stutter very badly, and was
only able to get over it through a lot of
speech therapy.

When I realized the other day that you
thought I was making fun of you my
stutter came back with a vengeance, I
guess because I wanted too much not to
stutter. I’m sure you understand what
that’s like.

I think you’re a nice person and I did
not want you to think I was disgusted or
amused by your problem. I’m not. I’m
like you.

Scott

-=*=-

I slipped the note through the crack in her locker
door, and the next day I sat on that retaining wall,
getting there early, making sure I got there before
her.

She did not show up until well into the lunch hour,
and I began to think that she had not believed my note.
What more could I do?

My folks had noticed that my stutter was back, though
only mildly. I felt if I could not resolve this problem
with Jenny, however, that it might come back completely,
and the thought of fighting with my mouth every time I
wanted to speak, again, was horrible to me.

But she finally did show up. She’d done her hair
again, and she was wearing jeans and a light green
T-shirt. She had something of a smile on her face,
just the barest hint of turning at the corners of her
mouth, but for her this was a major event. She’d
believed me. What a relief. She approached the wall,
then stopped a pace away and stood silent for a moment.

Finally, she drew in her breath, and said: “Do you
m-m-m-m-mind if I s-s-s-s-sit huh… huh…. sit here
t-t-t-too?”

“Sure,” I said, amazed at her determination. I knew
how tough it was for her to do that. Stutterers would
rather be alone than face any confrontation that might
force them to speak. She’d done a very difficult thing.

We sat for a moment, looking at, then not looking at
each other. I took the chance to really see her – she
was beautiful. I could not understand how I had not
seen it before, even though she usually hid behind
baggy clothes and dirty hair. Her face was bright and
lovely, reminding me a little of Jodie Foster, and her
body, finally discernable in her T-shirt and jeans,
was shapely and firm. I took her in, feeling the
beginnings of attraction.

“I’m really sorry about last time,” I said. “I didn’t
mean to make you feel like that. Sometimes it’s so
h-h-h-hard to make my mouth work right, especially
when…”

But she held up a hand to cut me off. “I kn-kn-know.
Really.” She smiled a little broader and handed me a
note, then blushed deeply and turned away:

-=*=-

“I of all people should have understood
what was happening to you. I get so
defensive some times that I forget to
think. Please forgive me for being so
rude to you.”

-=*=-

Not exactly a love note, but it touched me nonethe-
less. I folded it carefully and put it in my pocket.
She turned at the sound of the folding paper, and
looked stunned that I was keeping it.

“That’s OK. It was just a misunderstanding.” I
smiled, and she smiled back, a little. I was struck
suddenly by how the green in her eyes was made even
more brilliant by the shirt she was wearing.

Maybe I could help her. “Look, ” I said, being care-
ful not to sound patronizing, “I’ve been through this.
Maybe I can help you.”

She shook her head. “T-t-t-tried bef-f-f-fore. Nobody
c-c-c-c-can stop this st-st-st-st-stupid thing.” She
looked dejected.

“That’s what I thought, but I was wrong. What have
you got to lose?”

She looked at me, a strength and coldness to her
gaze. I knew what she had to lose. Every time you tried
to get rid of the stutter and failed, it got worse. The
guilt, the anger, the frustration, all came out in
those rapid-fire syllables.

We sat silently for a while, munching our sandwiches
and thinking. After a while, she stood. “Okk-k-k-k-kay,
Scott. I’ll t-t-t-try, but…”

But you’d better not let me down, her eyes said.
“I’ll do my best,” I said, feeling like I was making
a big mistake.

For the next three weeks we met every lunch at the
wall. I tried everything I knew; saying the words in
reverse order, translating them to another language
and back in your mind before speaking (she knew
German), reading nonsense poetry, vowel sounding, and
dozens of other tricks and techniques that she’d pro-
bably seen before.

Throughout it all she was patient and cooperative,
but got nowhere. There was no question that we were
becoming close friends during all of this, and perhaps
more. But I could not seem to help her.

At the end of it all that I was pretty frustrated
with myself. I felt that I had let her down and told
her so.

She shook her head, smiling a smile that had never
seen the light of day before, that I knew of. A broad,
real, unreserved smile. “N-n-no, Scott. N-n-n-n-not
your fuh fuh fault. N-ni-ni-n-n…. sweet of y-y-y-ou
to t-t-t-t-try.”

Something happened then. Her sweet face, that real
smile, the way her lovely hair framed her face, the
subtle curve of her, something propelled me. Had I
stopped to think I would never have kissed her, but
I did not stop. I leaned forward and kissed her,
gently, on her soft cheek. I heard her breath catch
in her throat, but she did not pull away for the first
second. When she did pull away, there was only surprise
on her face.

She blushed again, and looked down at her lap.

“I couldn’t stop myself, Jenny.” I said, quietly.

“Wuh wuh why?” she said, and I could tell she was
crying. I only hoped they were not tears of sadness.

“I th-th-th-think you know why.” Ah, my stutter
again. She looked up at hearing it, her eyes glisten-
ing. I still could not tell what her tears meant.

“Maybe,” she said. “I g-g-guess so.”

I took her hand, and she did not pull away. When I
stood, pulling her gently, she followed. We walked
around the gym, to the horticulture projects, around
the fences and inside. The fruit trees were blooming
and the smell reminded me of her perfume, which she
was wearing again. We finally reached the end of the
rows, where a small bench was, and we sat facing each
other.

“Will you go out with me, Jenny?” I still held her
hand in mine, and stroked the back of it with the
fingers of my other hand. She could not tear her gaze
away from our hands.

“I d-d-d-d-don’t underst-st-stand this.” Her voice
was choked.

“If you’re not interested in me, just say so….”

She looked up at me and shook her head emphatically.
“It’s n-n-n-ot that.”

“Then say you’ll go out with me.” I tried to keep my
voice even and calm, but I really wanted to kiss her
again and the strain was palpable.

She was quiet for about a thousand years. But she
finally nodded and said “Ok.”

We went to a movie – some Mel Brooks film – and I
heard her laugh, which was like music to me. I was too
tense to enjoy much of the film, but I enjoyed her,
just being there with her. I knew I was in love.

After the film we got some food at a hamburger place
and drove up to the christmas tree farm to eat it. The
tree farm is one of my favorite places, mostly because
the other kids don’t know about it and it is so much
like a forest. Jenny liked it too, and we sat staring
at the trees and each other as we ate our burgers and
drank our malts.

Once we had eaten, and the wrappers were all tossed
into the back seat, the tension began to grow. We had
no more distractions. It felt like a moment of truth
tp me. All during the meal I felt that something had
changed in her, or at least between us. She was looking
at me much more directly than ever before, and most of
her apprehension was nowhere to be seen.

“Jenny,” I said, feeling my stutter returning. “I’d
like to k-k-kiss you, but I d-d-d-don’t want to if you
don’t w-w-w-want me to.”

She looked down at her lap, her hands there folding
and unfolding, a smile on her face. It took her while
to speak, but she did, it was wonderful. “I w-w-ant to
k-k-kiss you too.”

I lifted her chin gently, and pressed my lips to
hers. The kiss was long and sweet, and it was followed
by another and another. We turned our heads slowly as
we kissed, and when I broke away to kiss her cheeks I
heard her breath coming quick and shallow and felt the
tears on her face with my lips.

“Why are you crying?” I asked, whispering in her ear.

“H-h-h-happy,” she said, hugging me tightly.

We kissed again, and this time I brushed my tongue
against her lips. At first, she did not respond, but
kept kissing me. Then on the third try she parted her
lips and took my tongue in her mouth. My tongue found
hers, and as they danced I heard her sigh and felt her
breasts pressing into my chest.

When finally we broke the kiss and I started to nib-
ble the nape of her neck, she began to sigh and moan.
I ventured, tentatively, to put my hand on her breast,
through the thin material of her blouse, and though I
felt her start a bit, she did not push the hand away.
I began to squeeze and knead her breast gently, lov-
ingly, feeling at first the lace of her bra and then
her rising nipple in my palm.

Her shoulder tensed at my touch, and her breath began
coming in quick little hitches. She was afraid, but her
nipple was standing firm, and she was hugging me to her
even more tightly.

My cock was raging, of course, hard as a post and
straining against my pants. I brought my other hand up
and began squeezing and rubbing both of her beautiful
tits, feeling both nipples hard and erect. She was
rotating her shoulders ever so slightly, responding to
my caress. I was not sure how far this was going to go,
but I was in heaven.

“Scott,” she sighed in my ear, “Oh, Scott, oh I
just… oh, oh I’ve never felt like this…”

I stopped and pulled away, both hands motionless on
her breasts. I looked her straight in the eye and
smiled.

“W-w-what?” she said, her eyes puzzled.

“You didn’t stutter.”

“Huh?”

“You didn’t stutter, just then, when you said you’d
never felt like this.”

She looked down at my hands on her breasts, then
smiled, then looked back to me and covered her mouth
with her hand as she laughed, a sweet, high laugh.
“You m-m-m-mean all I n-n-n-needed wuh-wuh-was…” We
both laughed.

“And to think I went through three years of speech
therapy,” I said, and she howled, holding her stomach.
We laughed together for several minutes, stopping and
starting again whenever we’d look at each other.

My hands had drifted away from her, and as the
laughter died away, I drew her to me, kissing her
deeply, and placing my hands back on her tits. I felt
her hands come up to mine, and I thought she was going
to push them away, that she’d gone as far as she could
in one night, and I was prepared to say I understood,
that we could go slow. But instead I felt her fingers
unbuttoning her blouse, and my heart raced.

There is nothing quite so sexy as a woman voluntarily
taking off her clothes, without being asked. She unbut-
toned the blouse and drew it down off her shoulders,
letting it pile up around her waist. Now I was kneading
her through her bra only, and as I looked down I real-
ized just how beautiful a body she had. Her skin was so
smooth and perfect, and her tits crested deliciously in
her bra, the lacy edges drawing the eye to her cleavage.
The bra was front clasping, and I moved my fingers to
the snap.

“OK?” I asked, fingers gripping the plastic clasp.

“OK,” she said.

It took three tries to get the clasp undone with one
hand – I was too nervous and too worried about her
reaction. But finally the lacy material parted and her
sweet breasts were bared to the night.

In the moonlight the white flesh of her chest looked
slightly blue, and her pink nipples looked dark red.
My eyes crept up from staring at her tits, up along
her neck and shoulders, then finally to her face. Her
expression was so fearful that at once I felt pretty
guilty at having let things get this far. Here was a
girl who had probably never even held hands with a boy
before, let alone kissed one. And here she was, strip-
ped to the waist.

“Jenny,” I began, “If this is too much…”

She smiled, very nervously but it was a genuine
smile. “No. It’s Ok-k-k-kay.”

With my eyes still raised to watch her expression,
I leaned forward and took a nipple gently into my
mouth. Her smile faded and she closed her eyes as I
began to suck and lick her areolae. I felt her hand on
the back of my head, and she started holding my face
to her tit as she bit her lower lip and arched her
back. I had tapped something in her, something that had
been lying dormant for her whole life.

I brought my left hand up to massage the other nip-
ple, then switched my mouth to that side and brought
my right hand up. Back and forth, back and forth, I
suck and licked both her nipples until they were so
erect that virtually all the flesh of each areolae had
been drawn up into the erect little peaks that her
nipples had become.

Slowly, experimentally, I began to draw my free hand
up her leg, just to her knee at first. Again I was un-
sure how far I should take this girl, on her very first
night of love, but part of me was obsessed with her
body, which was proving to be impressive. I wanted to
see and touch her pussy, even though I knew fucking was
almost certainly out of the question. And more than
that, I wanted to give her an orgasm. I felt sure it
would be her first.

“Jenny,” I said between sucks of her left nipple.
“Tell me… if you want me… to stop.” I looked up at
her face, which was flushed and showed such complete
concentration on the sensations she was experiencing
that at first I wondered if she had heard me. So I
moved my hand slightly farther up her leg, and let my
fingers slide in between her thighs. Her eyes popped
open and she bit her lip again. I pulled my face away
and froze.

We sat like that for what felt like hours, but was
certainly no more than a minute. Had I gone too far?
Would she feel I was taking advantage of her? Was I?
The expression on her face told me nothing except that
she was thinking intensely.

Suddenly, and without warning, she closed her eyes
again and I felt her legs parting. Her butt slid for-
ward as her thighs separated, and her back slid down
the car seat until her dress was hitched up to mid-
thigh.

I barely heard her say “gently” as her I felt the
material of her panties barely come to rest under my
fingertips.

Gently. Gently I began to stroke her pussy through
her panties. With my other hand I slowly pulled her
dress the rest of the way up, so I could see what
awaited me. Her panties were of the simple white
cotton variety, cut like bikini bottoms, and they felt
quite wet to my touch. I put my free hand back on her
breasts and continued to massage and squeeze her chest
as my fingers gently explored her pussy through her
panties.

After a while, her breath coming very fast now and
my erection threatening to burst my zipper, I brought
both hands to the waistband of her panties, grasped it,
and began to lower them. She brought her hands up, one
covering her eyes and one resting on her chest, as
though she was feeling her heartbeat, and I heard a
little “ooooh” escape her throat as she lifted her ass
to help me remove her panties. My eyes locked onto her
pussy as the covering slid away. Her nether hair was
lovely, a perfect little triangle of black, downy curls.

I set her panties on the driver’s seat, which I was
leaving. We had pushed the seats back all the way when
we had parked, which left me plenty of room to kneel
on the floor in front of her. Her eyes were still
tightly closed, but her hands were on my shoulders now,
touching me lightly as though the mere contact gave her
some kind of courage. I began to stroke her thighs and
pussy hair lightly with my fingertips, pressing gently
now and then to get her legs to spread wider. Finally
I could see her pink pussy lips, and the little bud of
her clitoris peaking out. I planted a gentle kiss on
her pussy hair, smelling her musk and feeling the tiny
drops of dew against my lips, then looked up and saw a
nervous but genuine smile spread across her lips.

The smile turned serious as I lowered my tongue into
her pussy folds. At first I let my tongue bathe the
lips of her cunt, no penetration, just running back and
forth, up and down over the general area, stroking her
clit lightly now and then, almost by accident. Her
breath was quickening again, so I pressed the advantage
and began to search for her little hole with the tip of
my tongue. Having found it with little effort, I began
little playful stabs into her, no more than the tip of
my tongue entering her pussy, followed by short, firm
flicks on her clit.

Soon she was making little sounds in her throat with
each exhale, and I knew she was close to coming. I be-
gan to set up a very regular rhythm, licking and suck-
ing her clit and letting my tongue dart in and out of
her hole. Soon I felt her ass tighten in my hands, and
she lifted in slightly in the air as her hips, legs,
and thighs began to quiver. Then she came in a long,
hot flood, her pussy juices gushing into my mouth, the
taste of her like warm honey.

She said nothing, but made only these high whimpering
noises, biting her lip and breathing through her nose.
Suddenly her eyes popped open and she looked down at
me, our eyes meeting, as her final spasm ended. A tear
escaped her eye, followed by many others, and she gazed
at me with a look of total love.

She was tugging on my shoulders, wanting a hug, and
I slid up to wrap one arm around her and kiss her face
and neck. The other hand I left stroking her pussy,
bringing her down slowly from the peak of her orgasm.
Now and then her breath hitched again, but soon she was
calm and I wrapped both arms around her and hugged her
tightly.

“I love you,” she said, after we had hugged together
for some time.

“I love you too,” I said, and I meant it. By cock was
still raging, but I knew the feelings I had for her
were more than lust – I wanted some relief, but I did
not want our hug to end.

She felt my hardness against her as we hugged,
especially since her legs were still spread and my
groin was pressed against hers. “I w-w-w-ant to do
something f-f-f-for you,” she said into my ear.

“You do?” I was amazed that she was ready to go
farther.

“Yes. That was s-s-so b-b-beautiful… and I w-want
to g-g-give you a-a-a…”

“An orgasm.”

She blushed a little. “Yes.”

I moved back to the drivers seat, smiling at her,
and sat back, drawing my hard cock out of my pants. My
cock, erect, is only above average, but to her eyes
this was obviously much bigger than she expected. Her
eyes opened wide as I pulled my pants down to my knees
and allowed my hard dick to stand proud in the night
air. “This is for you,” I said.

“W-w-w-hat do I d-d-do?” she asked, her voice a
whisper.

“You can do one or all of three things,” I began,
feeling like I was giving some kind of lecture. “You
can jack me off with your hand, you can suck be off
with your mouth, or we can go all the way: you can
take me inside you.”

Her eyes darted back to mine, a bit frightened. “I
d-d-d-on’t know if I’m r-r-r-ready to g-g-g-go all the
w-w-w-ay yet…”

“That’s OK with me.” It was too. I was shocked that
I’d gotten this far with such an inexperienced, shy
girl. I guessed I’d tapped some kind of hidden passion
in her.

“W-w-which is b-b-better for you?” she asked,
obviously referring to her hand or her mouth.

“How about first one, then the other?” I smiled, and
she smiled nervously back. She slid a little closer and
reached out with her hand to grasp my dick. As her
fingers wrapped around the hard shaft I heard her gasp.

“S-s-so warm and h-h-ard,” she said. Her hand closed
into a gentle fist, and I showed her how to jack slowly
up and down the shaft. The feeling was wonderful as my
skin slid up and down in her fist. Soon a drop of pre-
cum fluid seeped out over her knuckle and she looked at
me, a question in her eyes.

“That’s all right. It just means I’m getting there.”

“Sh-sh-should I take it in my mouth now?”

“Please,” I said, chuckly warmly, I guided her to
kneel between my legs as I took my pants off complete-
ly. “Start by licking up and down the underside, then
take the head into your mouth. Make sure to cover your
teeth with your lips, and concentrate your tongue on
this spot…” I pressed her index finger on my glans.
“That’s like your little clit…”

She leaned forward and began to lick my cock with
her hot tongue. The moonlight coming through the wind-
shield illuminated her with a ghostly light, so sexy
as she ran her lips and tongue all over my dick. After
a few strokes she took the head of my cock between her
lips and began to suck gently, her tongue dancing over
my glans.

Her face was rapt, showing such keen concentration
as she licked and sucked my cock. After each few suck-
ing strokes she would slide my dick out of her mouth
and bathe the head and glans with long, wet licks. Each
time she did this her head would twist back and forth
more and more violently and she would lick and suck
faster.

She was obviously getting caught up in the passion
of the blowjob, which made the whole thing so much
better for me. Her long hair had covered my thighs and
scrotum, and as her head bobbed up and down I could
feel her locks tickling my balls. The sensation, com-
bined with her sucking mouth and warm licking tongue
drove me to the brink.

I could feel the come rising from the base of my
shaft and I warmed her: “I’m going to come… swallow
it if you can…”

Her next stroke was the deepest, taking me 3/4 of
the way down, or even a bit more, and I exploded into
her warm mouth. The first two spurts shot straight
down her throat, till she gaged slightly and withdrew
almost all the way, leaving just the head in her mouth.
Spurt after spurt of hot sperm landed on her tongue and
filled her mouth after that. She swallowed three times
before I was done.

She sucked my deflating cock clean, which made it
take quite a bit longer to deflate, then slid up and I
had and hugged me tightly. “Thank you,” I whispered in
her ear.

“It w-w-w-was OK?” she asked, whispering back.

“Oh yes, it was fantastic,” I said, hugging her
tightly and feeling her breasts pressed against my
chest.

She was silent for a while, and our breathing pat-
terns synchronized, the way they will she you lie next
to someone. After a while the hypnotic feeling of our
bodies moving together almost lulled me to sleep when
she said:

“C-c-can you d-d-do it again?”

“You mean, can I get hard again?”

“Yes.”

I answered her by placing her hand on my rising cock
– the mere question had caused old’ johnson to perk up.
She fell to her knees again, my cock growing in her
two-handed grip, and began to lick the tip as the shaft
expanded to its full size.

She licked and sucked again for a while, then pulled
away, her face flushed and little beads of sweat on her
bangs, and looked me in the eye. “W-w-will it h-h-urt
if we try to…. to p-p-put it in me?”

I certainly was not going to lie to her. “Yes, at
first. A girl’s first time always hurts a bit. But if
we are careful and we go slow… we can… you know…”

“Fuck?” She smiled, and I smiled back.

I think I gained another inch hearing her say that
word. “Yes. We can fuck.”

“I w-w-want to fuck w-w-with you. Or at l-l-least
t-t-try to.”

My cock fairly inhaled at that, expanding in her
tight grip so much that she giggled and sucked it
again.

I unbuttoned my shirt and motioned her to slide up
and straddle me. As she did, my cock ended up pointing
toward my belly, the entire underside coming in contact
with her warm, wet pussy lips.

She leaned against me, her breasts crushed against my
chest and her mouth kissing my neck as I gripped her
hips and began rubbing her pussy up and down against
the underside of my cock. Immediately I felt my shaft
slide between her lips, so that on each stroke my glans
were rubbing her clit. She began to sigh and moan as
her clit swelled and the strokes became harder. I felt
her knees pressing in against my hips as she neared
orgasm, and soon her pussy was moving without my help.

“Ah… ah… ah… oh Scott it’s… oh I love…
ah… oh…uh….” she moaned breathlessly. Then all
at once I felt her tense, and the warm flood of her
come drenching my cock. Her sliding action increased
until I felt the head of my cock slip into her pussy
hole.

She froze, my dickhead just inside her warm cunt.

“God. God, your IN me, aren’t you?” Her voice was
full of wonder and lust.

“Yes, just the head. I’m inside you. How does it
feel?”

“Oh, it feels so…” Then she slid down a fraction,
slipping a half an inch or so down the shaft. “Uh…”
she grunted low in her throat. “It’s tight, but you
feel so good.”

“I hate to bring this up now,” I said, smiling, “but
your stutter is gone again.”

She smiled broadly at this, and I smiled back, grip-
ped her hips, and slid her down another full inch. She
bit her lip, but kept on smiling. I could feel the head
of my cock pressing again her hymen now. It was like a
thread or a string stretched across her opening.

She drew herself up, then down, then up and down,
sliding that first inch in and out of her, her eyes
closed and her mouth in that half smile. After a dozen
strokes I felt that the hymen was gone! It had broken,
and she seemed not to feel a thing.

I gripped her hips again and began to slide her down
a bit further on each stroke. The feeling of her pussy
walls wrapped around my cock was unbelievable. I had
fucked two girls before her, but her pussy was by far
the tightest, smoothest, warmest thing my cock had ever
been in. Now that her hymen was broken she did not seem
to feel much pain.

I took a nipple in my mouth and began sucking as I
pressed my cock deeper and deeper into her pussy on
each stroke. Her face was back to that same lustful
concentration, and soon I was balls-deep in her. She
bent down to kiss me and I massaged both her tits with
my hands as she came again, her tongue deep in my mouth
and a high whimper in her throat.

I felt my come rising again, this time slowly but
with great power. “I can’t… uh… come inside you…
uh… Jenny… no…protection….”

Quickly she withdrew my cock from her pussy, slid her
body down mine and took me back in her mouth, where I
came like a garden hose. My sperm poured into her,
leaking out the corners of her mouth and dripping on my
legs. She eagerly licked it from them, then came back
up to straddle me and hug me.

“Y-y-yours forever,” she whispered into my ear, her
spread pussy rubbing against my cock and her nipples
pressed into mine. I really HAD tapped some secret
wellspring of lust and love in this shy girl.

“Forever,” I agreed.

Since that time Jenny and I have been together. I am
sure marriage is in our future, and her stutter is
really coming along now. Especially since we found such
a perfect therapy. We still like to do it at the
christmas tree farm, but we have also gotten rather
adventurous, fucking during school in various secret
locations.

But that, as they say, is another story…