Message-ID: <10738eli$9804291431@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
From: john_dark@anon.nymserver.com
Subject: {Bruce Z.}JDR"After the Concert 2"( Mf ped )[2/3]
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
X-Note: This message was posted by a secure email service. Please report MISUSE OR ABUSE of this automated secure email service to <abuse@anon.nymserver.com>.
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <6i6go9$lq7$1@sparky.wolfe.net>
JOHN DARK REPOST
The following story is posted for the entertainment of adults. If you are
below the age of eighteen or are otherwise forbidden to read electronic
erotic fiction in your locality, please delete this message now. The story
codes in the subject line are intended to inform readers of possible areas
that some might find distasteful, but neither the poster nor the author
make any guarantee. You should be aware that the story might raise other
matters that you find distasteful. You read at your own risk.
The enjoyment of these reposts can be increased by reading the "Coming
Attractions," which includes the titles to be reposted in the next week.
These stories have not been written by the person posting them. Many of
those e-mail addresses below the author's byline still work. If you liked
the story, either drop the author a line at that e-mail address or post a
comment to alt.sex.stories.d. Please don't post it to alt.sex.stories
itself. Posting the comment with a Cc: to the author would be the best way
to encourage them to continue entertaining you.
The copyright of this story belongs to the author, and the fact of this
posting should not be construed as limiting or releasing these rights in
any way. In most cases, the author will have further notices of copyright
below. If you keep the story, *PLEASE* keep the copyright disclaimer as
well.
=====================
AFTER THE CONCERT
copyright 1995 by Bruce Z.
Permission to reprint for non-commercial purposes is granted.
===============================================================
* * * * * * * *
AFTER THE CONCERT
by Bruce Z.
Part 2
"Meade! Careful, there." I went over and refilled my glass. "Please
don't tell anyone that I let you drink wine."
"It's okay, Bruce. My parents let me drink it."
"Just don't get drunk, and puke on me."
She held her stomach, and pretended to throw up over my feet. I
laughed, and pulled her head back, her blonde hair swished back over my
hands as she looked up at me, her pale blue eyes aglow with laughter. I
laughed with her, and rubbed the top of her head. She turned to pour
herself another glass of wine. A Hole video came on the TV, and I went over
to turn it up.
"All right!" Meade yelled. She put down the wine, pulled off her
shoes, and began to bounce in time with the music. For the first time, I
found myself looking at the firm, small mounds of her young breasts as they
vibrated with her movements, perfectly shaped below the neckline of her
tight-fitting shirt. Her skirt swirled around her, riding higher, nearing
her crotch and exposing more of her smooth thighs above her over-the-knee
stockings. She spun around, and I noticed she had a cute, perfectly rounded
butt. I snapped myself out of it. "Can I have this dance?" I asked her.
We danced together for that song, and for the song after it. We were
having fun, alternately bouncing around the room, pogo-ing, reaching for
an occasional gulp of wine, and occasionally Meade tried to show me some
new dance moves with varying degrees of success. A commercial came on.
"Oops," I said, slightly out of breath. "Time for a break." I went to
the bathroom to take a piss. While in there, I reflected on how terrific I
felt. I felt so good, so energetic, and so full of... passion. Although I
had shaken loose the last few drops of urine, I still held my penis,
feeling it grow as I thought about my student, so cute in the other room,
bouncing to the music. Meade was a lot of fun. I thought of her smile, her
beautiful face, lean, firm, athletic build, her excited girl-laughter, her
small but perfect breasts, the way her skirt rode above the tops of her
stockings, her smooth thighs, hoping for a glimpse of her young, hairless
crotch, her spending the night with me, an image of her waiting on the bed
in just a nightshirt, her hair down, here for the night, together alone...
And I was coming into my hand, trying to stifle my groans. It was so
exciting to be masturbating with Meade's image so strong in my mind, doubly
exciting knowing she was in the next room. As the last spurts of cum
plopped into my palm, and I began to wipe myself dry, I felt relieved. Now
perhaps I could calm down, get a handle on my hormones (no pun intended),
and avoid getting into a potentially career-ruinous situation. I liked
Meade, but it would be best if it stayed at that level, without any
weirdness. I washed my hands.
Returning to the room, I caught Meade finishing her third (?) glass of
wine. She giggled at me, then went into the bathroom. The commercials
finally ended. As the next video started, Meade came out of the bathroom,
reached out for my hand, and pulled me to the center of the room. Laughing,
I swished her around me, enjoying it when she spiraled back into my arm,
forcing my arm to wrap around her chest, and then she was leaning back over
it in a dip. I could feel the passion beginning to build again. She was so
adorable. The song ended, and was followed by a slow "power ballad" that I
didn't recognize, but Meade did.
"A slow one," I said. "Time for a break."
"C'mon, Bruce. One more, please?" She looked at me, intentionally
looking bashful, all fluttering eyelashes, turning her charm up to "High."
"Pretty please? I love this video."
"Okay," I said, putting my hands on her shoulders, my pulse quickening
as some of my fingers touched the skin of her bare shoulders. I felt
awkward for a moment until Meade stepped in closer to me, resting her head
against my chest. I was surprised at how "right" this felt, and slid my
arms around her back, one hand pulling her gently to me at the concave
small of her back, the other combing through the hair over her neck.
She softly said, "I've had fun, Bruce."
"Me too, Meade." I gave in to the impulse to rest my cheek on the top
of her head, deeply breathing her scent, circling and swaying in time to
the music. "I'm glad you're here. It's been good getting to know you... as
a person, and not just a student."
She snuggled her head against me.
My heart was pounding. Surely, I thought, she could feel it. The wine
was making me bold. "I like being with you, Meade. I really like you. I
think you're a wonderful kid."
"I like you, Bruce," she said into my chest. "A lot." I felt one of
her hands affectionately rub my back a little.
"And I like you a lot, Meade. I think you're wonderful. I'm glad
you're here tonight." I began to caress her back. I suddenly felt very
passionate.
Perhaps she felt the electricity, too. She looked up at me, all warm
blue eyes and affection, and it happened. Impulsively, I kissed her
forehead. We stopped turning in time to the music, and stood there, looking
at one another, both recognizing that our relationship had suddenly
changed, but not sure what to do next. I rubbed her cheek with my thumb,
then cradled her chin. "You're a very special girl, Meade," I said. "This
has been a wonderful evening." The wine must have made me bold: I bent
down, and kissed her lightly on the lips, experiencing their light caress
as she puckered back, tasting her lip gloss, feeling her expelled breath on
my face. "Is it okay that I kissed you, Meade?"
"Yeah," she said, shyly. I could see the affection in her eyes. She
smiled, and stretched up to kiss me on the lips. Then I kissed hers again.
We giggled bashfully, and then she put her head against my chest, and began
to move to the music again. I swayed with her, enjoying her body pressed to
mine, stroking her hair, feeling her nuzzle me with her head. I lifted her
face to mine, and kissed her again, this time lingering longer, enjoying
the feeling of her young lips pressed against mine, her breath, the
fragrance of her hair as it tickled my cheeks, occasional glimpses of her
eyes looking into mine as her lids fluttered. I massaged the length of her
back with my hands, savoring her taste.
She broke the kiss, giggled, and rested her head on my chest again.
"How are you feeling?" I asked her, putting my lips near her ear,
noticing the small silver post pierced through the top of it.
"Good." She said.
"You're not drunk?"
"No," again giggling. "Maybe a little."
"Okay. I just don't want to take advantage of you. I mean, as long
it's okay with you, that you know what you're doing..." I wasn't sure what
I was saying.
She looked up at me. Her cheeks were a bit flushed with excitement.
"Do you, like, want to make out with me?"
I simply nodded my head, and sat down on the bed, pulling her down
beside me. I looked at her and for a moment recognized how young she was,
just a kid in my class. That impression faded away as I focused on how
beautiful and affectionate that young face was, filling me with desire. A
momentary exchange of mutual, embarrassed grins, and we were kissing again,
arms around each other, our necks slowly getting into the action this time.
The sound of the rock videos on MTV provided a driving beat, while we
explored each other for the first time. I gently probed my tongue forward,
touching the outside of her smooth lip. I felt a rush of excitement as her
lips parted, the tip of her tongue touching mine, my mouth suddenly filled
with her sweet, salty taste. Our tongues slid against one another, first
touching tips, then licking and sliding across teeth, I was touching the
inside of her cheeks, hungrily drawing her saliva into my mouth. My cock
was beginning to stir. Meade's tongue sloppily moved around my mouth,
darting quickly back and forth. She seemed a bit clumsy due to lack of
experience, but she was incredibly exciting. She pulled away, laughing.
"What is it?" I asked.
"It's like we're having a tongue fight!" More laughter. She was a bit
silly from the wine, but I didn't mind at all.
"Meade," I said, "I haven't yet begun to fight. That was just warm up.
Get ready..." I put my face in front of hers. "Get set..." Smiling, I
parted my lips, and placed my tongue in the ready position. She did the
same. "Go!" Our tongues darted out, both of us giggling as we "wrestled"
tongues, practicing pinning maneuvers. It was very sexy silliness. I pushed
her back onto the bed, holding her hands beside her, pinning her to the bed
with my passionate kisses. For the "count," I counted to ten aloud,
enjoying a kiss between each number, each one deeper and more passionate
than the last.
When it was over, I propped myself on elbows next to her, and looked
into her wonderful blue eyes, admired how perfect a picture she made, lying
next to me, her hair somewhat tousled. "Meade," I said, my voice full of
unmasked adoration, "you're so beautiful, I can't believe it. I'm so lucky
to be here with you." She didn't say anything, just looked bashful. "I'll
never forget this, " I added. "I'm glad we've become friends, Meade." I
kissed her again.
"I'm glad we're friends too, Bruce."
"Can we make out some more, Meade?"
She said nothing, just rolled over to meet my lips, and once more I
became lost in her young embrace.
And then the wine made it's presence known once more: I had to urinate
(in the movies, I thought, this never happens). Again. I reluctantly broke
our kiss to go to the bathroom. Standing at the toilet, while I waited for
my erection to subside, I looked through my toiletries kit to make sure I
still had some condoms in there. I did. I didn't dwell on that line of
reasoning (was I really planning to take things that far?), but I wanted to
be safe. Impulsively, I removed my wedding ring, and put it in the bottom
of the toiletries bag. Tonight, I was taking a break from my wedding vows
(with a thirteen year old! my mind screamed). Once I was done, I took the
toiletry kit out with me. Next, Meade had to use the bathroom, so I sat on
the bed, placed my toiletries on the night stand, and waited for her. Soon,
she came out, and walked over to me. I sat her down beside me, and we
resumed our kissing. I put my arms around her: one hand cradling the back
of her neck, the other around her shoulders. I felt both of her hands as
they lightly caressed the small of my back. I allowed the hand I had around
her shoulders to squeeze her closer to me, slowly caressing while inching
toward the side of her breast through her shirt. A thrill rippled through
me as my fingers met the firm but fleshy side of her small breast inside
her shirt. I felt Meade stiffen slightly, as if I had tickled her.
Cautiously, I continued to touch her breast, rubbing it gently, working
towards the nipple. I felt her continue to tense. She stopped kissing me,
but I left my hand where it was.
"Mr. Z-- Bruce," she said, "you're touching my boob."
"I know." It was my turn to look bashful. "It feels nice. Is it okay?"
"I guess," she said, looking as if she wanted me to, but was a bit
nervous about it, also.
"Don't worry." I kissed her. "Just tell me to stop if it doesn't feel
good." Gently, I guided her back, so she was lying at the edge of the bed,
her feet still dangling over the edge. I traced the outlines of her face
with my fingers, the bumps of her shoulders, her collarbone where it showed
through the open neck of her shirt, across her stomach, and around the
edges of her breasts - I could detect the small points of her nipples
through her bra and shirt. "You're amazing," I said. "How can anyone who's
thirteen be both so smart, and so beautiful? You're such a, well, ...a
woman." She blushed, and I bent down to resume kissing, my hands more
boldly tracing the outlines of her breasts through her shirt. She made
little moaning sounds. I could feel her level of passion increase as she
rubbed my back more vigorously. My kisses began to stray from her lips: I
kissed her beautiful cheek bones, her chin, her neck, her collarbone. I
whispered in her ear: "Meade, I can't believe how good you feel."
As I lost myself in our mutual passion, I began to lose any feelings
of inhibition. My hands worked their caresses down to Meade's hips, the
sides of her stockinged legs, and finally up the inside of her naked thighs
above the stockings. Slowly, an inch at a time, I worked towards her
crotch. I felt the edge of her cotton panties. She pulled away.
"Like, I don't know if you should." She was a bit out of breath from
the excitement of our necking and petting.
"I won't hurt you. I just want to touch you there, to make you feel
good."
"What if it hurts?"
"Why would it hurt, honey?"
She looked at me, a bit unsure, then looked away. "It did last time."
"Last time?"
She told me how a month prior, the boy she had been going out with had
talked her into having sex with him, and it hurt her a lot. "I, like, don't
want that to happen again." She looked away from me, worried.
"Oh, Meade, I'm sorry that happened to you." I stroked her hair. "But
that's always what happens the first time. I promise I won't do that unless
you ask me to. I just want to touch ...your pussy, ..and your clit, and
make you feel good. Just tell me to stop if it doesn't."
She didn't say anything. She just hugged me tightly, snuggling her
head beside mine.
"Don't worry," I whispered in her ear. I began to kiss the side of her
face, stroking her back. Soon, we were back where we had left off, her on
her back as I kissed my way over her, carefully sliding my hand to her
crotch. When I reached her legband, Meade tensed, but didn't pull away.
Softly exploring the inside of her mouth again with my tongue, I slid two
fingers into her panties and met--
Much moisture as her excited pussy juices leaked from her young
vagina. My heart leapt as I felt her soft pussy lips for the first time,
covered with very fine, thin fuzz, no thicker than the hair of an eyebrow.
Meade took a deep breath, and kissed me harder as I slid one finger into
the folds of her pussy opening, and slipped the other around her clit. I
found her tiny button and began to massage it, my finger lubricated with
her juice.
"Is this okay?" I whispered into her ear.
"Mmm. Yes," Meade panted.
"It would be easier if you slipped your panties off."
Meade obliged, and my hand went to work on her young pussy once again,
under her skirt. I looked down, and found myself turned on by the sight of
my hand under her short, pleated skirt, hiked up towards her hip, framed by
her lean legs in their long stockings. I pushed her skirt up higher and
nearly gasped as I had my first look at her young crotch, her swollen, red
labia covered with thin, shiny blonde fuzz.
"Oh, Meade, you're so beautiful." I gasped, and bent down to kiss her
neck and shoulders. I worked on her clit and pussy with one hand, while I
slid the other hand up under her shirt. Meade was getting quite stimulated:
her hips were starting to subtly rock under my touch, she no longer
resisted my movements. My hand under her shirt met the edge of her bra. I
placed my hand directly over her covered breast--it fit perfectly under my
cupped palm--and gently squeezed. Meade groaned again.
"Meade, honey, can you unclasp your bra?"
She shook her head, and without looking at me, reached up under her
shirt to unclasp her bra, pushing it up and over her breasts. While she
did, I continued to massage her clit which now poked up to meet my
fingertip. My other hand returned to the task waiting beneath Meade's
shirt. I sighed as my finger brushed against her naked, erect nipple.
Kissing her forehead, her nose, her lips, her eyes, I cupped her breast
again, amazed at how perfectly circular and firm it felt, stroking her
nipple with my thumb, then switching to her other breast. Her hip movements
became more vigorous, in time to my stroking fingers and the music on MTV.
One of her hands pressed against the front of my crotch, cupping my
erection through my pants. I dropped the hand from her breast to unsnap my
jeans. I felt her fingers grab my penis through my briefs. Enjoying the
heavenly feel of her small hands squeezing me, I returned to tweaking her
nipples with my hand. Meade began to breath heavily, and then she was
coming in my hands, grinding her crotch into me, driving my fingers more
deeply into her wet hole. Her mouth sought mine, and her tongue was
furiously lashing about, and her saliva was pouring into my mouth, her
pussy dripping into my hand, her hand tugging at my stiff cock through my
underpants, her nipples arched forward, pressed into my other hand. When it
was over, she pulled back, her cheeks aglow, her eyes shining. She folded
her arms across her chest (trapping my hand on her breast, which was fine
with me), and looked shyly at me.
* * * * * * * *
AFTER THE CONCERT
by Bruce Z.
Part 2
-30-
--
+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |