+--------------------------------------------------------------+ | WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. | | If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you | | are under age, PLEASE CLOSE THIS FILE AND DELETE IT NOW! | +--------------------------------------------------------------+ Snegurochka (The Snow Maiden) [MF, rom, mast, embellished truth] Over the span of my Junior and Senior years, there was a small number of gals who professed an interest in me --or at least, who claimed to have one. Excepting two or three, most of the gals claiming interest were no more than deceitful teases, and the balance were really no more than flirts out for cheap thrills and brownie points at the expense of others. There also was an equally small number in which I was interested, but none of those went anywhere either. Some attempts at a relationship went bust before they even began, others progressed no further than the "snuggle and cuddle" stage, and only a tiny fraction advanced further. The makeout sessions involving the latter group seldom went beyond the groping and fondling stage. I can only think of three or four instances where things went as far as undressing in part or in full in order to have some kind of skin to skin contact. One in particular comes to mind: She was a Senior who, if you looked up the term "head turner" in a dictionary, you'd find her picture instead of a definition. It does sound cliché, but there's no other way to describe her. She was half French and half Hungarian, and also fluent in both languages. I really liked her, and she even professed an interest in me, so I decided to ask her out on a date. We went out to dinner and an early movie one Friday night. During the movie, she began to run her hand up and down my thigh and, eventually gave me a kiss. Afterward, she suggested we go down to a nearby lake for a bit, where she started again. Things progressed to the point where she removed her blouse and bra and begged me to kiss and suck her breasts. As I was doing so, her hand was driving furiously inside her jeans until she brought herself to a fierce orgasm. After catching her breath and some intense kissing, she pulled away from me, put her clothes back on, and asked me to take her home. This girl remained polite and civil for what remained of the academic year, and always acted as if our date never happened. By year's end, she grew distant and I though it took time, I managed to quietly find out what the deal was: She had been seeing this guy her parents didn't approve of. Our date was to throw them off the scent, because they eloped just days later! Then there was this gal who was born and raised in the same part of the world I was. Due to the common geographical background, her older brother and I got to be good friends, and through him I got to be friends with her (we were also in the same graduating class). Ours was a very casual, laissez-faire friendship, and yet we confided just about everything to each other (even about those of our peers we fancied). I was there for her when she went through rough spots with her various relationships, and she for mine. She was firmly adamant that she didn't want anything beyond the really close friendship we had. One day, while talking about what we wanted from a partner, she made a rather odd offer: If I respected her wish about not taking our relationship to a further level, she would teach me everything I wanted to know about the art of being a true lover. Through her guidance and instruction, I learned the importance of insuring my partner's ultimate intimate satisfaction through a number of techniques. While most of this instruction was hands-off (she did it by giving me a lot of material to read, from magazine articles to adult novels) she promised to test me occasionally. There were a few times when she managed to get hold of the odd movie, which we'd watch together. She also taught me the importance of having and fulfilling fantasies, both one's partner's and one's own. The sole hands-on lesson I got from her was a massaging primer, wherein she demonstrated on me and had me repeat on her. The lesson was limited to the neck and shoulders. She was more than firm in that regard, saying that by massaging those two areas in the right way, it will likely lead to doing the same on other parts of the body, including erogenous areas provided one asks for permission to do so. But I digress... During Easter Break in our Senior year, she invited me to go to the movies with her. There was nothing unusual about that, as we had done so numerous times. It was unusual in a different way. While we were in the theatre, it began to snow. The forecast had called for snow beginning after midnight, but by the time the movie let out around 9, it was an outright blizzard that had already deposited a full inch of snow. The drive back to her house was slow and treacherous, and she knew that after taking her home, I had what was normally a half hour's drive to get to where I lived. She asked me to stay the night, an invitation I gratefully accepted. We sat and watched the snowfall for a long time... After getting ready for bed, she gave me two choices: I could join her in her bed even though there would be no intimacy, or sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor in her room. I replied that even though I liked her a lot (which she already knew) and would prefer the bed, out of respect for her and our friendship, I would sleep on the floor. After bidding her a good night, I settled in and she turned out the light. Some time later, I was awakened by her gently tapping my shoulder in the dark. She told me how much she appreciated my decision and insisted I get into her bed --if I didn't, then she would lay down next to me on the floor. Not wanting her to do that, I gave in. Once in bed with her, I felt her place her arm across my chest and her head nuzzle against mine. We lay like this for a long time, and she whispered into my ear that she was really liking this; I concurred. She began inching her arm down my body and as she did so, whispered for me to just relax. Her fingers slid under my pants and then the waistband of my underwear. Creeping underneath she sought out my cock and, upon finding it, she began to gently play it. Needless to say, I was rather hard and I heard her exhale happily. She stopped briefly to pull my pants and underwear down far enough to free my throbbing tool, and then went back to her ministrations. "Please tell me when you're close to cumming", she whispers in my ear... "Uh-huh..." It didn't take long for me to get to that point, and I let her know. She let go of me momentarily and pushed the bedcovers off us. In the mostly dark room, I can barely make out her silhouette as she removed her nightshirt. Laying back down, she pressed herself against my side. The feel of her soft, bare skin pressed against mine was electrifying as she resumed playing with my throbbing member. Within moments, she sensed me twitching and placed her head on my stomach. A split second later, I let go; Burst after burst of cum shot forth, as near as I can guess, hitting her in the face. Moments later, she began shuddering and stifled a moan. After calming back down, she reached for the nightstand and handed me a tissue with which to clean myself up, while she did the same. She came back to bed, put on her nightshirt once again, and snuggling, fell asleep with her hand gently holding my shaft, which she had bared once more. After waking up the next morning, we went outside to find a full 9 inches of snow on the ground. There she thanked me for allowing her to fulfill a recent fantasy of hers, She promised to return the favour one day. Thinking about that wonderful night still gets me very excited, and I occasionally fantasize about making tender, passionate love with a woman in a darkened room, the only way of discerning our entwined bodies being by touch. That little Easter-time adventure was neither the first, nor the only one my friend, upon whom I ended up bestowing the more than apt nickname of "Snegurochka", which means "Snow Maiden" was involved in; There were several, in fact, but all of them were by some form of proxy. And lets not forget those tests of my acquired skills and knowledge, which to tell the truth, were very few and far between. One such occasion took place when a girlfriend of hers from "back home" was visiting for two weeks. This girlfriend was an avid nature photographer, so one day we went to the County Park so that she could shoot a few rolls of film. During the course of the outing, her friend tried to teach us both about photography (I owe my interest in that subject to her), and let us shoot a few frames each. When we got back, Snegurochka's friend arranged for some darkroom time in order to develop the film. A few days later, Snegurochka told me that her friend was very impressed with the pictures I had taken. She also said that she told her friend I was a quick and thorough learner in a lot of ways, which impressed her all the more. For whatever reason, I didn't think twice about it, but as a result, her friend wanted to know if I wanted to learn more. The next day, Snegurochka told me that her friend wanted to shoot that Sunday, her last day before returning home. The entire weekend was rainy, but I went over to Snegurochka's house all the same on the appointed day. Given the weather, her friend had set up a mini- studio in the basement using some borrowed equipment that was to be returned the next morning. She proceeded to teach me about studio photography and, when she felt I was ready, told me that I would be taking pictures of her. She had me shoot two rolls giving me specific direction, and after loading the third roll, announced that I was ready to give her direction. I would have five rolls with which to do so. I was a little unsure with the first ten frames, but then got into it. By the end of the second roll, I had her flirting with the camera, and by the time I shot the last frame of the third, she had begun disrobing; She wasn't in the least bit self conscious about it either. The fourth roll included about a dozen frames in which she was playing with herself, and by the time the last roll was done, she was quite worked up as well. That had an effect on me as well, of course, and she noticed. Beckoning me to her, she began fingering herself and said that she hoped I learned all my lessons well. Taking my hand, she pressed two fingers against her now soaking womanhood and said, "show me what else you can do". Then she gave me a deep kiss and pushed my fingers inside her. As she guided my hand, fingers inside her dripping pussy and caressing her clit, I crooked my fingers. Within a few strokes she was shuddering uncontrollably. Withdrawing my hand, she asked if I had learned how to pleasure a woman orally. Before I could answer, she was guiding my face to her crotch. I had done some reading about this and had a vague idea. As I nibbled, licked and sucked, she began clamping my head with her thighs. Soon she was convulsing again, and it was as if a dam had broken, which put me on the edge of exploding as well. She again drew me in for a kiss and then started to lick her juices from my face. As she did this, she reached down, undid my trousers and pulled my straining manhood free. Her touch pushed me to the edge, and before I knew it, I was firing jet upon jet of cum, causing her to sigh in disappointment. When we looked, there were gobs of cum all over her chest and belly. There even was a small glob of it just above her cleft. The sight of this was too much for her and she came yet again, and it got me hard once more too. Rubbing my cum on herself, she took my cock in her mouth and licked it clean. We cuddled for a bit, and then she got dressed. I helped her pack the gear up before I had to go. A month later, Snegurochka handed me a padded envelope. In it were copies of all the photos I took under her guidance, along with a note. In it she wrote that I did learn my lessons well, and encouraged me to pursue photography. She also said that someday I would make a woman VERY happy indeed. Snegurochka's friend had an exhibit a few years ago, and in it she included a handful of pictures made by people she had taught. One of them was from that basement "studio" shoot. I wish I still had my copy of those photographs, but they were lost or stolen during one of my moves a number of years ago.