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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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WARNING!
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Multiplication
by Charles Dickin (address withheld)
***
Adolescent Paul has fantasised for years over his
voluptuous older cousin Rosemary. Then she offers to
give him math lessons. (F/m-teen, ped, inc, 1st)
***
Paul hated math. He loathed arithmetic, he despised
algebra and geometry made him want to puke. A month
short of his 16th birthday, he excelled at just about
every other subject in school, but at math he was a
hopeless failure.
As he bent closer over his homework, trying to grasp
just an inkling of what a co-sine might be and whether
it had big tits, the doorbell rang. He heard his mother
walk to the door to answer it, and two seconds later,
her voice rang out: "Paul, we've got an unexpected
visitor."
Paul stepped from his bedroom and leaned over the
landing to see who was calling. His heart leapt.
Directly below him, chatting to his mother in the
hallway was the delectable shape of his cousin
Rosemary.
Paul had six first cousins, and was fond of them all.
But Rosemary, 10 years his senior, had always been his
firm favourite. When he was young, she had always
looked out for him, and as he grew older, they had
shared confidences, laughed together, walked together
and gradually become firm friends.
But over the past two or three years, Paul had detected
a difference in their relationship. Puberty's volcano
had been welling up inside him for some time, so that
now when he looked at Rosemary he saw a lot more than a
friend with a laughter-lined face and a warm
personality.
He also saw round, shapely buttocks, broad,
childbearing hips, a slender waist and, above all, the
most wonderful pair of breasts on God's earth. When she
was around, he often caught himself drinking in the
contours of her body, longing to touch and caress those
ample curves.
Rosemary, too, had noticed the change in their
friendship. Whereas before, her role in their
relationship had been that of tomboy older cousin, now
she often flirted with him. Paul was a good-looking boy
with a firm, muscular body, and Rosemary was secretly
flattered by the way he looked at her.
At the school where she taught science she was regarded
as something of a bookworm. She had not had a serious
relationship with a man of her own age for three years,
but like any red-blooded 25-year-old woman, Rosemary
had physical needs and desires.
Unknown to Paul, she too desperately wanted their
relationship to go further. She wanted him badly, and
again unknown to Paul, that was the main reason for her
visit today. It was the start of her scheme to seduce
him and break the law to lay claim to his 15-year-old
cherry.
Blissfully ignorant of all this, Paul paused for a
second at the top of the stairs to take in the view
beneath. Rosemary was wearing a blue skirt and low-cut
white cotton top. Paul gazed down her deep cleavage and
felt a stirring in his pants.
He skipped down the stairs, two at a time. "Well if it
isn't Rosy Lee, my favourite cousin," he called out to
her. "Have you come to check up on me?"
As he reached the foot of the stairs, Rosemary put a
hand to his face and pecked him on the cheek. "Just
tell me you're at last getting to grips with that
maths, that's all."
Paul laughed and pulled the face of someone who has
just digested raw sewage. "Yuk," he said. "Please don't
mention excrement quite so early in the conversation."
"Paul, don't be so vulgar," his mother chided him.
Rosemary interrupted. "Actually, Auntie Ruth, it
occurred to me that I might be able to help Paul with
his maths. As you may know, I studied maths right up to
my first year of university, and although my degree is
in physics and chemistry, my maths is pretty hot and I
am a teacher. I was wondering if Paul would like some
extra tuition during the school holidays – maybe even
before."
"That's very kind of you Rosemary, but as you know
money is tight and we couldn't afford to pay you much,"
said Ruth.
"Don't worry about that. Just take me out for a nice
meal to celebrate Paul getting a grade A in his maths
exams. Do we have a deal?"
Rosemary was a woman used to getting her own way, and
within two minutes it was agreed that Paul would attend
his first extra-curricular maths session at Rosemary's
house at 10am the following Saturday.
Ruth and Rosemary wandered off to chat about the
progress of a dress Rosemary was making – ostensibly
the reason for her visit – and Paul was left to reflect
on Rosemary's gently undulating backside heading for
the living room and what a wonderful world it was that
he inhabited.
On Saturday, a day that Paul habitually regarded as an
excuse for a long lie-in, he was up and about by eight.
By 9.30, he was freewheeling on his bike down the cul-
de-sac where he lived to make the five-mile journey
across the city to Rosemary's house. His saddlebag was
full of maths textbooks, his loins full of desire and
his mind full of Rosemary.
His Auntie Gracie, his father's sister and Rosemary's
mother, answered the door to the house she shared with
Rosemary and her husband Basil. "My, you're early," she
said. "Barely ten to ten. Basil's working today, but
Rosemary will be down shortly."
Paul deposited his books on the dining room table, and
sat down, pretending to read.
After two minutes, Rosemary came in. She was wearing
tight blue ski pants and a scoop-neck pink cotton
blouse that was secured above her breasts with just
three buttons and descended only as far as her navel.
The ski pants accentuated the undulating contours of
her backside and legs, and the fabric of the top was so
thin Paul could clearly see her black bra beneath it.
Rosemary bent over the table towards him to look at one
of his books, and as she did so Paul was rewarded with
a view of her round and firm breasts, encased in a bra
that barely contained half of them. She leaned forward
further, and the blouse opened a little more, giving
him an unrestricted view to the waistband of her ski-
pants, with those priceless twin black and white mounds
in between.
Apparently unaware of Paul's preoccupation, Rosemary
flipped open the book cover and said: "Oh yes, Basic
Trigonometry, I remember this one. Perhaps a bit too
far advanced just for now, don't you think? We don't
want to run before we can walk, do we?"
She turned a fond and smiling face towards Paul, and he
took a split second to remove his gaze from her breasts
and meet her eyes. Rosemary was gratified. Her choice
of wardrobe today was no accident, and as she met his
gaze, she deliberately reached inside her blouse to
adjust a bra strap.
Paul reddened to his roots and Rosemary's brown eyes,
fixed on his, twinkled mischievously. "There's one
thing you must never forget over the next few weeks,"
she said, with heavy double entendre. "And that is that
I am the teacher and you are the pupil. Do exactly as I
say, and I guarantee – she paused wickedly for emphasis
– I guarantee you will enjoy every minute of it."
She sat down opposite him. "Right, put the books to one
side for a moment. I've put together some very basic
algebra questions for you, and I'd like you to work on
them for the next half-hour, so I can see roughly how
far along the road you have come."
Rosemary pushed two sheets of foolscap paper across the
table to him. He took out a pen, and started scanning
the questions, but found it difficult to apply himself
to the task. His mind was elsewhere – on Rosemary's
sparkling, wicked brown eyes, on her big and sensuous
mouth, her slender neck, her wonderful breasts. Paul
took a deep breath and found himself inhaling
Rosemary's subtle perfume, which didn't make things any
better.
Just then, Gracie called out from the hallway. "I've
got to pop into town for some stuff," she shouted.
"I'll probably be about two hours. I'll get some fish
and chips for our lunch on the way back, Rosemary."
With that the front door slammed, and Paul and Rosemary
were left alone in the house.
Paul turned back to the algebra and began to see that
Rosemary had chosen her questions wisely. The first two
or three he found straightforward enough, but as he
moved lower down the page, he found his mind stretched,
though not stretched so far that he was incapable of
making a decent stab at them.
Suddenly, his mind was distracted again. Rosemary's
sandaled foot had brushed against his ankle. He moved
his leg, but a moment later her foot slid up against
him again, more lingeringly the second time. He moved
once more, and a couple of seconds later her right foot
descended on his left, swept slowly down his instep and
returned to his ankle, brushing it repeatedly like a
feather duster.
Paul did not move his leg this time. He raised his eyes
nervously from his work to see Rosemary returning his
gaze with an expression of deep longing on her face.
She looked at him almost exactly as he remembered her
looking at him when he had been a child, with a
protective fondness. Only now there was something else
there as well.
It was fiery, it was sultry and it was inviting.
Rosemary's foot, now naked, brushed slowly up Paul's
left calf, inserting itself beneath the trouser leg on
to his skin. They gazed at one another across the
table. Paul felt himself redden again, but held her
gaze and tried to return her unspoken language.
It worked. Rosemary's moist lips parted and her tongue
slowly slid the circumference of her big mouth. Paul
felt his breath catch in his throat and let out an
involuntary groan. The hairs on the back of his neck
began to tingle, his stomach tied itself in knots and
his penis began to throb and harden. Was this really
happening? Or was he still back home in bed, dreaming?
Rosemary's foot was now rubbing gently up and down his
left thigh. She seemed to sense that his manhood was
much aroused, and deftly slid her toes onto his crotch.
To do so, she had to slide her chair back about a foot,
which meant arching her back and pushing out her
wonderful chest.
At the very moment that her red-polished toenails slid
gently onto the tip of his penis inside his trousers,
Paul was treated to the sight of Rosemary's black bra
and its glorious contents pressing urgently against the
thin, pink fabric of her blouse. He glimpsed a mound of
white flesh between her buttons.
Paul wanted to pick up the table, fling it to one side
and leap on top of her, but something in her steady,
sensuous gaze told him that there was a better way, a
sexier and far more gratifying way. He took a deep
breath of her perfume and forced himself to hold her
gaze and allow her to do as she would.
Rosemary's dainty toes had in a few seconds teased Paul
into full arousal. His penis stood erect and throbbing.
As Rosemary gazed into his eyes, she placed a thumb and
forefinger on the table between them and mimicked the
motion of pulling down a zip. Without taking his eyes
from her, Paul reached between his legs and unzipped
his trousers. Immediately Rosemary's slender foot slid
inside. Her pupils dilated and she moaned softly as she
discovered he was wearing nothing beneath.
She hooked her foot around his shaft and pulled it free
of his trousers. It sprang upwards like a puppet on a
string. Slowly, sensuously, Rosemary began to slide her
toes up and down his eager manhood, still holding his
eyes with hers. Paul groaned with pleasure.
Then she leant back in her chair, lifted her left foot
on to his crotch as well and began to squeeze and pound
his organ between them. Paul stared back at her,
breathless with desire and disbelief.
He placed a hand on the table and motioned the action
of unfastening buttons. Rosemary immediately
understood. She removed her feet from his groin, stood
up and came around to his side of the table. She gazed
lustfully down at his long, erect penis, protruding
from his trousers, and bent to whisper in his ear:
"Would you like to see my bedroom?"
Paul nodded eagerly, and she kissed his ear and nibbled
his neck. Then she took his hand and led him to the
stairs. "Ladies first," she breathed, and began slowly
to climb, still holding his hand behind her back. At
the second stair she took his hand and placed it
against the soft fabric of the ski-pants covering her
right buttock. As they climbed Paul softly stroked her
curves and watched her sinuous body move above him. At
her bedroom door, he slid his hand between her legs and
Rosemary let out a prolonged shudder.
She closed the door behind them and pulled him against
her, grabbing his head and kissing him wetly on the
lips, her tongue wrestling with his, her hands slipping
under his shirt to caress his skin. Then she turned her
back to him, leaned against the wall and pulled him
against her backside.
His penis, still engorged and free, pummelled her
wonderful buttocks. He felt totally out of control.
Rosemary sensed what was happening and groaned back at
him: "No, not yet, not yet. Try to hang on a little
longer, darling."
She pushed his heaving crotch away from her buttocks,
turned and reached down to seize his frantic penis.
Softly she stroked it with her fingertips, kissing his
face and neck gently as she did so. Again she lent her
face to his ear. "Why don't you go and lie down on the
bed, darling?" she whispered. "You look all in."
Paul composed himself and kissed her neck softly, again
savouring the taste of her skin. He did as he was told.
He lay on his back and started trying to push his penis
back inside his trousers. Rosemary joined him on the
double bed, and snatched his hand away. "Leave that
where it is," she sighed. "I haven't finished with it
yet. Now then, did you say something about buttons?"
She knelt on his left side and returned her left hand
to his penis. Her fingertips barely touched him, but
that was all that was needed to maintain his adolescent
arousal without putting more strain on it than it could
bear. She very softly squeezed the very tip of his
organ between her thumb and forefinger, while her right
hand went to the front of her blouse. Very slowly, she
undid the top button.
Then with the other two still fastened, she bent her
head low and gently kissed the tip of his penis. Her
pink blouse brushed against his thigh, and he gazed
greedily inside it, devouring the sight of her deep,
rounded cleavage, encased in black.
Rosemary knelt up again. She arched her back and began
gently and sinuously to sway the top half of her body
from side to side, forward and back, still softly
rubbing the tip of his penis with her left hand. She
took his fingers and guided them to her groin. Her
breath came in little gasps and groans as she ground
against his pubescent fingers. He felt her grow moist
through the ski pants and gently probed with his hand.
Now Rosemary's right hand slowly unfastened the second
and third buttons of her blouse. She slipped it from
her shoulders and threw it to the floor. His eyes
devoured her as her black brassiere swayed to and fro
and she ground against his hand with her loins. Her
breasts bounced slowly up and down inside the bra,
whose cups were cut in deep, lacy curves so that the
flesh moved fluently above them.
A hint of dark, circular skin surrounding her left
nipple appeared, then vanished again inside the
brassiere. Paul found himself mesmerised by a little
red rose, stitched beneath her breasts where the two
cups joined.
Suddenly, Rosemary let out a shudder and cried his name
at the top of her voice. She bent over him, covered his
penis with kisses and then slid it deep into her mouth.
The gentle touch had given way to unbridled, passionate
abandon as Rosemary shuddered and gasped in unbidden,
multiple orgasm.
She rammed his organ in and out between her lips,
licking its tip furiously with her muscular tongue.
Paul groaned with a pleasure he had had no idea was
humanly possible. He grabbed a handful of her light
brown hair and pushed up against her. His climax came
upon him and a massive spurt of hot semen shot from his
penis into her mouth.
She swallowed it, licked her lips with relish and
continued to bathe his organ with her tongue as it
slowly softened in her hands.
Then as they both fought to recover breath, she bent
down to lick it clean and lay down beside him with her
head on his shoulder.
He put his arm around her and kissed her hair. "Can we
try some multiplication later?" he whispered
breathlessly into her ear.
The couple lay silently in one another's arms for a few
minutes. Paul was a teenager of considerable power and
stamina. He played soccer for his school first team and
regularly worked out. It wasn't long before his racing
pulse had slowed to normal and his breathing had become
steady and rhythmical again.
As he lay caressing the soft skin of Rosemary's
shoulder, it dawned on him that although he had just
enjoyed his first frenetic and frantic sexual
experience with her, he had still not laid eyes upon
her most intimate parts. He decided that now would be a
good time to begin a little exploration.
Paul eased his left hand down the side of her body to
her slender waist. He squeezed the skin gently, and
Rosemary stirred slightly beside him. Then he slipped
the hand beneath the waistband of her ski pants and
found the tops of her buttocks. He slid it further down
and began to caress the velvet skin inside. She felt
soft and smooth, and soon his limp penis, still peeking
from his trousers, began to stir once more. She smelt
of body oil, perfume, musk and womanhood.
Without removing his hand from her pants, Paul raised
himself slightly with his right elbow and gazed down at
Rosemary as she lay on his shoulder. She looked up at
him, and he kissed her softly on the mouth. Rosemary
returned his caress, and he began to kiss her
repeatedly, then eased his tongue between her lips, and
softly licked their insides.
Rosemary sighed and turned her head to give him better
access. Paul explored her mouth delicately with his
lips and tongue and at the same time found the zipper
at the side of her pants and slid it down.
Between kisses, he glanced down to see that his
unzipping had revealed a pair of black panties. In the
middle of their waistband at the front was a stitched
red rose, exactly matching the one on her bra. He
slipped his hand inside the front of her knickers and
began gently to stroke the skin above her pubic hair.
As he did so, he started kissing her neck and her ears.
Rosemary responded by unbuttoning his shirt and
caressing his chest. She leaned hard against him,
sighing with pleasure as her hands roamed his torso,
and Paul plainly felt the pressure of her hard nipples
on his stomach. He peeled her ski-pants lower and began
to explore her moist womanhood.
Rosemary sighed with pleasure and pressed her lips hard
against his mouth. Again her powerful tongue sought out
his. Soon she discovered the areas in and around his
mouth that aroused him most, and ruthlessly exploited
them. Paul, his penis now fully erect, explored deeper
inside her black panties, inserting one finger, then
two, into her vagina, which had soaked her knickers and
ski-pants with its moistness.
Rosemary sighed and moaned, then arched her back and
slipped her ski-pants around her thighs, moving his
inexpert fingers to the spot she knew would drive her
crazy. His forefinger located her clitoris and he soon
discovered that a rapid flicking motion rapidly
dissolved his maths teacher into rapture.
Rosemary savoured at least ten minutes of physical
delight under the gentle ministrations of Paul's
forefinger. Then, aroused and moist, she decided it was
time for something more substantial inside her than a
mere digit.
Rosemary disentangled herself from his embraces. She
stood beside the bed and peeled off her ski-pants,
followed by her panties. She stepped out of them and
stood before him wearing only her skimpy black bra. Her
vagina was topped by an outcrop of light brown hair,
which glistened with the moisture coating it, like dew
on a lawn.
Placing a hand on each broad hip, she swayed from side
to side and turned slowly through 360 degrees,
revealing her perfectly rounded, honey-coloured
backside. Then she climbed back on the bed, slipped
Paul's trousers down and sat astride his penis. She
bent forward towards him and with one deft movement
grasped his organ and slid it deep inside her.
Finally, she sat up on his thighs, looking down at him
and slowly rocking and swaying against his hardness,
just as she had done against his fingers earlier.
Once again, Rosemary and Paul found themselves gazing
speechless into one another's eyes. This time, however,
there was no table to separate them.
Her softness had been penetrated by his hardness. She
adored the sensation of his organ inside her and he was
driven to the point of ecstasy by the way her sheath
gripped and stimulated him as she rocked slowly up and
down.
Despite his intense pleasure, Paul felt he could
maintain his hardness, without ejaculation, for a long
time. He simply allowed Rosemary to set the pace and
lay back and feasted on her beautiful body. With every
rise and fall, her wonderful breasts moved slowly
against the beat. As she moved down to take him deeper
inside her, they rose slightly in their black cotton
covering. As she rose, sensuously unsheathing his
scabbard within her, they fell, and all the while the
golden flesh above her brassiere gently undulated from
side to side. This was far better than maths, thought
Paul.
He leant up and kissed her lips, at the same time
sliding his hands behind her back to unclasp the
brassiere. She reached behind her to restrain him, a
movement that caused her bra to slip down and again
reveal the dark pink circle surrounding her right
nipple.
"Not yet, darling," she sighed. "You will see them and
kiss them soon, I promise you."
To compensate for his mild disappointment, Rosemary
leaned forward and pressed her breasts towards his
face, encouraging him to kiss their tops. As she did
so, she kissed his neck and whispered in his ear: "I
know how much you want to see them. I've seen you a
thousand times looking at them. That's why I want to
save it for the end."
Paul thrust upward with his pelvis and groaned into her
ear. "Never mind all that," he hissed, his mouth nearly
smothered by her left breast. "Just tell me what
trigonometry is all about."
"It's when two bodies combine in equilibrium to satisfy
a natural law," she replied in a whisper. "A bit like
us really."
As she spoke, Rosemary gasped as a second orgasm
erupted through her body without warning. She had never
climaxed this early before, and now it had happened
twice in 30 minutes. A long series of shudders wracked
her body and she moaned with pleasure, her head turning
upwards, her teeth clenched. As Paul began to push into
her urgently, another tremor shook her to the core. "Oh
God, oh my God, how I wanted you," she hissed. "Take
off my bra and feel my breasts."
Paul again slid his hands to the clasp at the back of
the bra. He unfastened it and the black cotton hung
loose at her sides. Paul put the fingers of his right
hand beneath the left shoulder strap and as he did so,
Rosemary, her long climax ebbing slightly, jammed her
elbows against her sides, holding the bra in place.
Then she covered the cups with her hands as Paul
slipped first one strap, then the other, down her arms.
Rosemary moved her left forearm over the bra's right
cup, and with the help of her left fingers, unthreaded
her right arm from its strap. Then she held the left
cup in the other hand and slipped out of the left
strap. Finally she sat astride Paul, moving languidly
against him, her bra once more cupped to her breasts
with both hands, her arms forming a diagonal cross over
her chest.
Her performance had been delightfully slow, but she had
successfully ensured that Paul saw nothing…just yet.
Despite her recent climax, Rosemary's was amazed to
find herself becoming aroused yet again. She slid
deliciously up and down on his penis, and at a snail's
pace began to move the twin cups of her bra down her
breasts, moving them from side to side as she did so.
Paul watched spellbound. If a jumbo jet had crashed
into the house at that moment, he would have been
incapable of ungluing his eyes from Rosemary's swaying,
heaving bosom. Slowly, oh so slowly, her wonderful
breasts were coming out to play.
As the fabric of the bra reached the top of the dark
circle around her nipples, she paused wickedly, teasing
him even more by increasing her stroke rate and
whispering down to him: "Shall I stop there, my
darling? Surely you've had enough by now."
It may have been the intimacy of her teasing words.
Perhaps it was the agonised expression on the
teenager's innocent face beneath her. Maybe it had more
to do with the way his rock-hard penis slid so
deliciously inside her with unflagging stamina.
Whatever the reason, Rosemary was flabbergasted as yet
another orgasm swept through her. As she writhed
through its ecstasy, the bedsprings protested noisily
and she at last eased the black cups downward to expose
her huge, dark and erect nipples.
Paul joined her in a duet of gasps, groans and cries.
He sat up, grasped her brassiere and threw it to the
floor. Then he gently held the swollen flesh
surrounding her left nipple and guided it into his
mouth. He bathed it with his tongue in long, sweeping
strokes, he sucked it, he nibbled it with his lips. She
tasted of salt and perfume.
By now, the bedsprings had turned the duet into a trio.
With his left hand, Paul stilled Rosemary's swaying
right breast. It overflowed his hand and he caressed
its eager nipple with his thumb.
Paul felt a surging deep within him. For the second
time in an hour, a burst of semen rocketed from his
penis into Rosemary.
He cried her name and licked her deliciously hard left
nipple with vigour. Rosemary cradled his head to her
chest and kissed his hair. Her thighs and calves
gripped tight against his hips.
A second, small jet of semen spurted weakly from his
organ. Like Rosemary, he was at last spent. The couple
collapsed on to the bed, its springs shouting a final
protest, its duvet crumpled, creased and stained…
Thirty minutes later, Gracie returned to her house
carrying three portions of fish and chips. She found
her daughter, looking a little tired she thought, in
the dining room, scanning through some algebra.
Rosemary, having rapidly filled in the answers, some
right, most wrong, was checking her work.
"How did the pupil get along then Rosemary?" asked her
mum.
"Well, he's got some very strong points, but quite
honestly mum, I do need to work on him – sorry I mean
with him – a lot more frequently, maybe two or even
three times a week."
"Goodness, dear, don't you go tiring yourself out. Are
you okay?"
"I'm just fine mum."
Gracie turned towards the kitchen and Rosemary winced,
gently stroking her aching groin. "Just fine," she
repeated. "You know, I actually found my session with
Paul quite stimulating."
"Good for you, dear. Try to keep it up."
"I will, mum. I will"
Three miles away, Paul cursed for the 20th time as he
lowered his backside to the bike saddle. There were
aching muscles in places where he thought he didn't
even have places. But his face was beaming as he
pedalled faster. My God, how I adore mathematics, he
thought.
END
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not real life. Anyone acting
out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to
many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a
fellow convict in their local prison.
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