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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Archive name: blind.txt (mf, 1st-time)
Authors name: Joe Moose (joemoose@altavista.com)
Story title : Blind Man's Bluff
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2001. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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Blind Man's Bluff (mf, 1st time)
by Joe Moose (joemoose@altavista.com)
***
A young boy's solitary play is interrupted by his equally
young but precocious neighbour and she introduces him to
some mush more pleasurable play. This is the first
chapter of a somewhat lengthy carnal odyssey. Critical
comments would be appreciated.
There was a late August chill in the air that afternoon
but we didn't notice it as we played boisterously on the
lawn. I felt somewhat uncomfortable playing 'blindman's
bluff' (or is it 'buff'?) because I was almost eleven but
Eileen was playing too and she was half a year older.
Actually, I'd never liked the game much until that
summer. I'm not even sure the game we played was
blindman's buff (bluff or whatever) but the way we played
it was always fun for me when I was 'it'.
The lawn where we played was almost next door to my home
but on the opposite side of the road. It was a fairly
large, grassy expanse broken by many mature shrubs,
lilacs and the like. That day there were five of us
playing, Eileen, Shirley, her sister who was two years
younger, their seven year old brother and one other boy
whose names I forget. Remember, this was many years ago
and the boys are incidental to my story.
The rules of our game were simple. The person who was
'it' was blindfolded and he or she had to 'find' and
identify one of the other players who would then become
'it'. Our usual hiding places were in the shrubs on the
lawn and the lilacs were the favourite locations because
they were large with little tunnel-like passages from
years of having kids crawling through them.
Finding someone was more difficult than identifying them
because of the variation in size and sex of the players.
Nonetheless, it was the 'identifying' part of the game
that I liked. And I cheated when I was 'it'. I don't know
if the others noticed but I never found the boys. Most of
the time, it was Eileen but sometimes I'd find Shirley.
"Yer always it, Joe. That's not fair!" one of the boys
complained as I put on the blindfold.
"That's not true" I protested, and I was right. Eileen
and her sister were 'it' a lot, also, although only
seldom were the boys 'it'. I guess I may not have been
the only one who cheated because Eileen always found me
but Shirley sometimes found someone else.
As I said, 'finding' was not the most fun. 'Identifying'
was better because the only way to do that was by touch.
I'd discovered, at the beginning of the summer, that I
could do things blindfolded that I'd never have been
allowed to do otherwise. (That may not be correct, but at
that time I thought it was.)
My technique was simple. I was able to peek under the
blindfold and see where the others hid. Then I would
select my target, usually Eileen but sometimes Shirley,
and blindly stumble to her location. Eileen, for sure and
maybe even Shirley must have known what I was doing
because it was the same each time. First I'd grab an
ankle and then find her face. With one hand I'd examine
her face while my other hand would go to her chest and,
sometimes, between her legs. Then I'd announce the name
of who I'd found.
When Eileen was 'it' she usually stumbled to the same
place that I did, the big lilac. It never dawned on me
that she might be cheating the same way as I but, in
retrospect, she likely did. Since I was a lot bigger than
the other boys who played with us, she could have made
identification just by that characteristic alone but
every time I would watch excitedly as her hand made its
way between my legs. And, every time, she'd find the same
thing. My penis would be hard. And, by the end of the
summer, she'd begun to give it a little squeeze,
something like the way I'd squeeze her rapidly developing
breasts.
I'd peeked under my blindfold and seen Eileen crawling
into the biggest lilac, her cute, round bum wriggling as,
on hands and knees, she moved forward. Once she looked
back over her shoulder at me, as if she was making sure I
saw where she went. I counted to one hundred and then,
even though I was checking my course by peeking under the
edge of the blindfold, I stumbled around, pretending I
couldn't see.
Shirley was under a wide spreading shrub of some kind
and, so I wouldn't be too obvious in selecting Eileen as
my target, I blundered into the shrub and got down on my
hands and knees. I fumbled around as if trying to find
someone but, by peeking, I was able to avoid touching the
cute youngster. Once, when my hand was only a few inches
from her ankle, I saw her move her foot closer as if
asking me to find her. I wanted it to be Eileen this time
so I avoided the offered ankle and got out from under the
branches.
Getting to my feet again, I continued my apparently
blundering course, hands out in front of me so I wouldn't
run into anything, until I reached the big lilac. There
were several of the little tunnel-like passages in the
ancient shrub and, for my first try, I chose one of those
that Eileen hadn't used.
I could hear childish giggles from the boys and was
satisfied that my ruse was still successful. I backed out
of the passage and, still on my hands and knees I crawled
into the passage where Eileen had gone.
I lifted my head as a branch scratched my chin and I was
able to see the girl. She was sitting, leaning back with
her arms outstretched at an angle behind her, supporting
herself with her hands. Her legs were apart, the light
fabric of her skirt falling between them and clearly
outlining their plump roundness right up to the
mysterious vee at the juncture of her thighs and her
hips. Even with the blindfold, I could see how her blouse
bulged out in front as, like her skirt below, it molded
to her body and showed off her developing bosom.
As I crawled forward, leaves tickled my nose and an
occasional dead branch dug into me but I was not
deterred. I had one thing only on my mind and that was to
get my hands on the girl's nubile body.
It didn't take long to reach her because she was only in
about six feet from the periphery of the shrub. I placed
one hand on the ground between her knees, just below the
hem of her skirt which had ridden up to mid-thigh. Then I
paused as if wondering if this was another wild goose
chase. I scratched my nose with my other hand and managed
to displace the blindfold enough that I could see my
chosen prey better without making it too obvious.
Eileen looked tense, her red lips pursed, her eyelids
only half open. What would she do if I reached under her
skirt? The thought of that produced a strange feeling in
my belly and then I made my move. I moved my hand forward
and up, the back of my hand coming under the hem of her
skirt as I seemed to lose my balance. To prevent myself
from falling, or at least that's what I wanted it to look
like, I put that hand down again only this time it came
down on her body, at the juncture of her thighs.
"Oh...sorry," I said apologetically as I felt the
incredible softness of her secret place. It felt hot,
even through her panties, and I kept my hand there,
savouring the forbidden intimacy but expecting her to
push my hand away at any moment.
"Hee hee," I heard her strained little giggle but she
didn't move.
"I know you're either Shirley or Eileen," I said softly,
moving my fingers on her pussy, investigating the pulpy
softness as much as I could through her panties. Why
wasn't she trying to stop me? Did she like being touched
there? I didn't understand but, emboldened by my success,
I moved my other hand upward across her belly until I
felt the swell of her pubescent breasts. I cupped one of
the round, firm mounds and squeezed it, puzzled by the
projection of the hard nipple against my palm.
"It's Eileen, isn't it?" I asked in a choked voice while
I rubbed the pliant flesh mound. She wasn't smiling but,
instead had an intense look on her face as if she wanted
something real bad and it seemed like she was pushing her
pussy against my hand.
"Uh huh. I guess you got me." Her reply sounded as
strained as my question but she still didn't try to move
away. I didn't know what was happening. She had to know I
was doing this on purpose and not by accident like I'd
always made the other times appear. And I'd never touched
her for so long before. After what seemed like a blissful
eternity but likely after only a few seconds, I
reluctantly took my hands away from her body and
announced to the others that I'd found Eileen.
"Hey, Eileen. C'mere." We heard the voice as soon as we
crawled out from under the lilac.
Darn. It was Robert again. Quite a few times since school
ended the sixteen year old had interrupted our play.
"Uh..OK," she replied as she looked over to where the
older boy was standing in the driveway.
"I'll be back in a little while, Joe," she whispered to
me, "He wants to get some ice from the icehouse. We'll
just be a few minutes."
Her family cut ice from the lake in winter and sold it in
the summer. There was a small building beside their barn
where they stored the blocks of ice, insulating it with
sawdust. Usually, by this time of year, the ice had
either been sold or had melted so I was surprised that
Robert wanted any. I watched, hurt and disappointed, as
they walked to the icehouse and entered. I wondered why
they closed the door behind them.
"I'm going home," I announced to the remaining children.
"Awww Joe? We can still play. can't we?" Shirley
protested. I've wondered in later years what I may have
missed by not playing longer with the nine year old. Like
Eileen, she always kept her legs apart when I was in the
process of identification and she never complained when I
took longer than necessary before announcing that I'd
found her.
"Naww...it's no fun with only four of us." And I left.
Much of my play that year was solitary and my favourite
location was in the loft of my father's shed. It was
quite large, about twenty by thirty feet, and cluttered
with old, musty items that he stored there.
I had also accumulated my own items, mainly cardboard
cartons that I'd arranged in the form of an aircraft
fuselage. At least, in my active imagination, that's what
it was. There was a war on and I expected, when I was
older, that I'd be part of it. And I'd be a pilot. In my
mock airplane I'd fly bombing runs while my crewmembers
fought off the fighter planes. I'm not sure why I was a
bomber pilot instead of a fighter pilot but that's the
way it was.
The afternoon sun shone through the small, dirty
windowpane, which was the only source of light in the
loft. I was sitting in the cramped space of the imaginary
cockpit and holding the control stick (a sawed off broom
handle) as we made our run over the target. The dust-
motes that drifted and sparkled in the sunbeam was flak
and I shuddered each time a larger than normal speck
drifted across the path. But flak meant that there were
no fighters, which was good because my best friend, Don,
had moved away so I didn't have anyone to be my gunner
and protect us from fighters.
"Joey? Are you up there?"
Darn! It was Eileen. I didn't want to see her. I was
still mad at her because she'd ruined our game. I didn't
answer.
"Joey? Oh, good. I was hopin' you'd be up here."
I hated being called Joey but Eileen called me that a
lot. I looked through the little 'window' of my cockpit
to the square opening in the loft floor where her head
was showing. Why hadn't I pulled the ladder up after me?
Then she wouldn't have been able to get up here.
"Go 'way. I want to be alone."
"Don't be mad at me, Joey." She climbed the rest of the
way up the ladder and made her way around the clutter to
where I was sitting in my cockpit. "We can play with the
other kids tomorrow."
She'd broken the spell. I crawled out of the imaginary
airplane and stood up. Although it was a fairly cool day,
Eileen's cheeks were flushed as if she was warm and, when
she turned her back to me as she made her way over to
where I stood, I noticed that her back had sawdust
sticking to it and wondered why. Had she fallen in the
icehouse?
"Go play with Robert. You coulda waited until later to
get him his ice" I said, pouting. "I'd rather play
alone."
"I'm sorry, Joey. It's just? Like? You know? I like you
better'n him but? Like? He's older and..." I wasn't sure
what his age had to do with it but I didn't say anything.
She paused and looked down at her feet as if wondering
what to say next. When she looked up at me again, there
was an odd smile on her face. "Would'ja like to play like
I do with him?"
"What's so special 'bout that?" I snapped. "Anyway, you
said you were just gettin' ice for him." What had they
done? Instinctively, I knew it was something special. I
burned with curiosity.
"It's better'n the way we played today? Like, you know,
when yuh found me in the lilac?" Wistfully, she was sort
of pleading with me and I got a sense of satisfaction
from it. "I'll let yuh do more'n just put your hands on
me." Eileen faced me, moving in closer, pushing her hips
forward until her convex belly was pressed against mine.
"Uh...I dunno?" She was almost as tall as I and her
flushed face was only inches from mine and her eyes had
an odd, glassy look. Why was she standing so close? Was
she going to let me feel her there again?
Would'ja like to fuck me, Joey?" Eileen smiled
appealingly as her question exploded in my ears like a
bombshell. "I'd rather let you fuck me than him do it."
I suspect my mouth dropped open in shock at her offer. I
didn't really know anything about fucking except that it
was a sin and only bad people did it, if they weren't
married. Russell and Lewis, two of my friends, had
bragged about doing it to Lewis's sister, Betty, in bed
one morning. They said both of them fucked her but I
hadn't really believed them. Especially when they'd said
they put their cocks inside her somehow. But now Eileen,
who went to Sunday School with me and came from a good
family, not like Russell and Lewis, was saying that I
could fuck her?
"Uh..sure? I guess so?" I replied uncertainly. What if my
parents found out? I wanted to say no but she'd think I
was just a little kid if I said that. I was suddenly
scared. By saying what she did, by asking me to fuck her,
Eileen had suddenly become, in my eyes, much older than
I.
"Where, Joey? Where're we gonna do it?" There wasn't much
open space on the floor and the girl looked around
questioningly.
"Over there" I said, pointing nervously to a large, old
steamer trunk. "You can bend over that." I led her over
to the trunk.
"But? Like? How?" she asked as, compliantly, she let me
push her shoulders down so that she was half-lying across
it, face down. I lifted her sawdust-covered skirt up over
her hips. Her round, white bottom was bare, the panties
that I had touched earlier were gone. I dropped my pants
down around my ankles and moved in behind her, nudging my
immature penis into the crevice of her buttocks.
"How? What're yuh doin', Joey? Robert puts it in me in
front?"
Eileen was suddenly timid and docile, not at all like the
girl who had, moments earlier, offered to let me fuck
her. I parted the bulbous cheeks of her lush, young ass
with my hands and directed my erect penis to the tiny,
brown, puckered aperture. Maybe this was the wrong way?
(In later years, as I will tell you, I discovered that it
is a pleasurable alternative.)
"Yeah..I guess the front's better." but I wasn't sure
about that either. Did I put it in her pee hole? I kicked
the fuselage of my plane aside to make room on the floor
and Eileen quickly lay down there on her back, spreading
her legs apart as she pulled her skirt up to her waist.
I didn't want to display my ignorance any more than I had
already so, kicking off my pants, I knelt between her
legs. Then, still afraid we'd be caught, I got up and
went over to pull the ladder up and protect our privacy.
Then I returned and once again knelt between her legs.
I was still very uncertain about what to do. I knew that
she peed from the front but didn't have a penis to do it
with. Where was I supposed to get into her? Her pussy,
the first one I'd really seen, was a smooth, slightly
bulging sort of mound between her thighs. It's whiteness
was split by a vertical crevice and the sunbeam that had
earlier illuminated the dust-flak of my imaginary bombing
raid was now giving a glistening sheen to the wetness I
could see on the puffy, pink slit.
"Don't be too quick, Joey. We got lotsa time," Eileen
said with a strange, hungry expression on her face. She
opened her legs wider and the fleshy halves of her
adolescent sex gaped slightly but not enough to reveal
what lay between. To my relief, she prevented me from
displaying my ignorance of sex again as she grasped my
fully erect but not fully-grown organ and drew it closer
to her pussy.
I was surprised at how soft her cunt flesh felt, and how
slippery it was. And then there was the most delightful
sensation I'd ever known up to that time as I seemed to
slide effortlessly into her, just as if some incredibly
strong flesh-magnet was drawing my penis into her. I was
being engulfed by a hot, soft moistness and,
instinctively, I pushed.
"Yes..oohhh yesss Joey..that feels good," I heard her
sigh and her pelvis which was already gaining the width
of maturity, tilted up to me. I backed off a bit and
plunged back in, her softly clasping inner flesh giving
me incredible pleasure when I moved.
"Have yuh ever fucked a girl before?" Eileen asked
breathily as she squirmed against me.
"Uh..sure..some" I lied. I was having difficulty in
breathing now as strange, new sensations built within me.
It was like the feeling I got when we played blindman's
buff only much, much more intense.
"I betcha done it to Shirley, din'cha? I seen how she
lets yuh feel her. 'N I seen how jealous she gets when
yuh pick me."
Even if I could have continued the conversation, which at
that moment was impossible because I was breathing so
hard, I wouldn't have. Did all girls do this? I had a
feeling of extreme urgency as if something momentous was
about to happen and I was moving in and out as fast as I
could. Eileen's passage seemed to be getting softer but,
at the same time, it was holding me more snugly. I know
now that the walls were swelling from the friction as her
excitement grew.
"Yuh..yuh..hurry," she panted as if I wasn't already
going as fast as I could. And then it happened. I felt as
if my loins were on fire and I was almost paralyzed by
the hot sensations that shot through me. Then I collapsed
on her as she wriggled and squirmed under me.
"No! Don't stop! Not yet! Do it! Do it hard!" she panted.
"Make me cum too!" I didn't know what she meant but I
knew she didn't want me to stop. I forced myself to
resume pumping on her although now it didn't feel as
good. In fact, I felt like my penis was numb.
"Yuh..yuh..good," She was wriggling frantically under me,
her hips jerking and bucking against mine as I pumped
dutifully on her writhing frame. "Yuh..there...oohhh
yeeesssss" she gasped as she stiffened beneath me and I
hoped desperately that nobody came into the shed because,
for sure, they'd hear her.
"Golly, Joey..that was good." Eileen stopped wriggling
and lay there under me, motionless except for an
occasional twitch of her hips. "Did'ja? Like? Was I good,
too?"
"Uh,,yeah..sure," I replied although I'm sure my words
didn't come close to expressing how good I thought she
was. I rolled off her twitching body, really afraid now
that we'd be caught. "We better get dressed, Eileen.
Somebody might come looking for us."
"Yeah..OK." She didn't really seem to want to leave and
she came close to me again, her hand touching my groin.
"Can we come up here again tomorrow? After we play with
the others?"
"Yeah. I guess so?" I was more afraid of being caught
than doing it with her again.
That was the only time it happened between us. The next
day I had to go away school in a different place and, by
the time the next summer came around, she and her family
had moved away.
END
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
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