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My Nymphomaniac Girlfriend
by historG (http://fantasti.cc/user/toodamngood/#)

***

Michael and Isabella never miss a chance to get dirty 
but can Michael convenience her to do it with her 
parents only feet away? During my senior year of high 
school I found a girl who shared an interest most men 
dream of. Both of us never missed a minute to sneak 
something. This is the first of stories from my youth. 
True stories, fake names. (MF-teens, youths, reluc, 
oral, nympho, rom)

***

"Shhh," I said softly, as she crosses her hand from 
the leg of the couch over, covering her mouth to keep 
from alerting her mom and step-dad. We could still 
hear the television upstairs with the latest reports 
from Fox News. Our folks would get along well in the 
future if this teenage relationship blossomed that 
far, hard to tell when you are both 17.

I looked down at my drop dead stunning girlfriend who 
was still holding her hand to her mouth, only now to 
keep from giggling. Her soft brown hair was in a 
ponytail with bangs down either side of her face, the 
way all girls' hair would be in my perfect world. Her 
eyes were squeezed shut as though it helped to dull 
the sound, as she moved her hand away from her face 
she was laughing silently revealing her stunning 
smile. She opened her eyes and looked at me through 
her black rimmed glasses. They were thin with the 
edges rounded out and the frames fit square to her 
face.

Her name is Isabella, she always went by Bella. I, 
being a gamer that must always shorten names, just 
called her Iz. Satisfying that she has gone by Iz 
ever since. Down to earth is the simplest way to 
describe her but it hardly does her justice. She 
seldom wore eyeliner and less so make-up at all. She 
had a face that boys fought over and a body to match, 
or at least in my world. 

She was fit and thin. Everything was proportionate; 
her 5'6 figure was limber, she weighed maybe 110 wet, 
B cups, bubble butt without looking inflated. If you 
didn't peg her as hot she would defiantly be 'cute'. 
Your heart skipped a beat when she smiled and about 
die when she laughed. And since she did I stopped to 
lean in for a kiss.

While I very much love my wife today, a great kisser 
she is not. Iz was, even after our relationship ended 
I came back from school some weekends, when I was 
still single, just to sneak in another.

We kissed like you would see in a passionate 
Hollywood flick. Our noses would nudge, blindly 
searching for each other's lips like we didn't 
already know. Heavy breathing cut short by contact 
and snuffed behind the dance of taste buds. Each 
taking turns to suck on each other's tongue. We would 
break contact to catch a breath only to plunge back 
in the throes of passion. As hard as I try, a good 
kisser is difficult to describe in print much like my 
love for this girl. We break contact again and I 
leaned back up to look down upon her beautiful face 
and body.

My name is Michael, and while I write this story five 
years, several other relationships, and a marriage 
later. I couldn't help but reminisce as my present 
day wonderful and beautiful wife slumbers off in a 
sex induced coma. Forgive my brag but understand I 
was not always this great at sex. My present day wife 
should thank the women in my past for making me such 
a great partner not just sexually. I certainly thank 
hers, though to be fair we are still doing lessons.

As I lie in my present day bed, several states from 
any of my previous love lives, next to my wife whom I 
have finished helped get ready for bed. Again, her 
temporary disability should wear off by morning, but 
for now her legs have been shaking and her speech 
matches that of a drunk teen with downs. After a 
self-pat on the back, I sigh wondering "what is Iz's 
life like now?" Thanks to social networking, I know 
it has taken turns she didn't expect but I digress. 
Where did I leave my day dream off?

As I slowing thrust my cock in and out of her tight 
pussy, keeping an ear open for any unwanted discovery 
from her parental units. She begins to slowly arch 
her back moving with my rhythm. For emergency 
purposes we both kept our shirts on but both of us 
have one hand up the other's shirt. Clutching and 
caressing one another. As a six foot tall swimmer in 
his peak season, I looked great. While I wasn't 
shredded, I certainly had an upper body that... let's 
just say made college dating easy.

Before I carry on, I suppose I should explain how 
this tussle started a bit. Besides, it's fun leaving 
you hanging a bit.

In order to spare you the boring details of my 
history because I am sure you are already cherishing 
the few "me time" moments you have captured, or if 
you are lucky have a partner who eagerly enjoys these 
stories as much as I have over the years, I'll get 
right to it.

While it hasn't been very long, high school memories 
are clouding up faster than a Seattle sky in winter. 
But who can forget those memories made when hormones 
were at peaks that scare most parents. If smell and 
sound are better memory tools than sight, I'm sure 
sex turns on a mental DVR that lets you relive those 
moments in stunning mental HD.

It is early spring in a region that spends most 
months under a cold blanket, out here we just call it 
"still winter" the season a few months shy of "road 
construction." My girlfriend and I are spending time 
once again at her house because, despite being a few 
months from 18, I still can't be in a room alone with 
a girl at my house. Thank God, I had Sophia Marie, my 
early 90's Chevy pickup that my Dad and I picked up 
from a donation lot for under 2k. 

The previous owner was likely Mexican or hung around 
that crowd because it looked like it was crafted in 
Lil' Havana. The girl I am with named her, which was 
appropriate for its likely origin. Three years 
younger than me, over 160,000 miles, and more rust 
problems than iron in a salt bath. She ran like a 
Chevy and never let me down. Her description is 
important in future scenes, but for now she got me 
away from the understandable, yet annoying rules of 
my aging parents.

My family was well off, her family was not. Her room 
was on the upper floor in an area where the roof line 
contoured to her bedroom. The room was purple and 
blue and directly across from the bathroom. Twilight 
came out and she was an avid reader of it, as you can 
guess her corner had magazine cut outs of Edward on 
the walls. 

Fortunately she also loved cars, the Mustang 
specifically, and while I can't say which side was 
winning on the wall, I would say photos of her 
friends seemed to rule.

"Bella?" Her mom calls from the living room below us. 

Iz marches to the closed door and swings it open, 
irked she responds, "WHAT!?"

"I have laundry downstairs, I need you to finish. 
Have Michael help you." 

Iz looks back at me quickly, puzzled. I smile and 
shrug my shoulders in a 'whatever' fashion. 

"Bella?" Her mom calls again waiting for a response. 

"Yeah, I'm on it." I still don't know if she hated 
her family or just would rather not be bothered when 
her friends are over. Good girl, good student, but 
also ready to leave the house.

We make our way downstairs, Iz leading carrying 
clothing. As she walks around the halls making her 
way to the basement door, I stop to see what her 
parents are watching. Just the News, every day I come 
here, I wonder if that's why they and my parents were 
just angry all the time. I find anyone who watches it 
constantly is always unhappy.
 
Her mom asks my opinion on the current event. I am 
happy to express it, knowing that if you make nice 
with the parents they trust you and when they trust 
you, you get easier access to the daughter. I may 
have only lost my virginity to a girl last summer but 
I know the politics of dating just as much as the 
moves. 

Iz is back behind me and grabs my arm to pull me away 
and downstairs with her. Even though we haven't dated 
long she knows I could talk all night with her 
parents. Like I said, I know how to play the game. I 
quick finish my thought as I am dragged through the 
dark dining room and kitchen around to the basement 
door.

"Why not just date my mom." She says as I follow her 
down the narrow steps, into the musky basement. I am 
sure my wittier present day self would say 'good 
idea' and start marching up stairs. I can't recall 
what I said, but I probably disagreed. Her basement 
was finished into what should have been or once was a 
hangout, but didn't appear to get much use. A dated 
couch sat dust covered in one corner, a covered 
billiards table outside of the laundry room. 

Even the laundry room looked abandoned besides the 
aged washing machines that appeared to be the only 
things getting any use in this baron corner of earth. 
The basement was larger than the 300 square feet I 
can see. The rest is blocked off for what appears to 
be more storage of her parents hay day.

Since the laundry room is too small for two I stood 
outside leaning against the pool table. The cover is 
dusty. Clothing is piled at my feet just outside the 
laundry room door waiting to go in. She starts the 
first load and steps out turning the light out behind 
her, her petite figure standing before me wearing a 
gray t-shirt baby doll cut and skin tight jeans that 
contour her body two sizes from spandex precision. 
"Ready?" she asks kindly indicating we are heading 
back upstairs.

I reach out and grab her hands. Pulling her towards 
me as she falls against me, I catch her with a kiss 
and my hands move to her ass pulling her tighter. Our 
tongues dance another duo, her sweet taste still on 
my lips as we break away. I pick her up, and place 
her on the pool table I was just leaning on. At this 
height she grabbed my head and pulled it in tighter 
to kiss me. With one hand I reached between us and 
before she could say no, the top button of her jeans 
were undone and my skillful hand was already 
clutching the tiny zipper. She put her hand on my 
chest to stop me and stood up from the table forcing 
me back. She reached down to her jeans and buttoned 
them.

"Are you crazy!" She exclaimed while trying to keep 
her voice down.

"What?" I responded stupidly as though nothing I was 
doing was out of the ordinary. Bear in mind we have 
been sleeping together since the day after she broke 
it off with her ex of three years. Yes, I am a player 
but there are more stories for that later.

"My parents are upstairs!" Still quietly shouting. I 
smile, knowing the risk and calculating response 
time. To this day I have had only two close calls and 
played off questioning like a master spy. 
Unfortunately, despite our good track record, Iz 
needs some convincing. As do most females and to be 
fair, it is easier for me to tuck my dick in than it 
is for her to get jeans on. 

However, at this point and time, I couldn't care 
less, so what was my brilliant response? "They are 
watching TV; they aren't going to get up."

It sounds stupid, but we both knew her parents have 
had and probably will never have any interest getting 
up, let alone walking downstairs. Though we have been 
surprised before, let's just say a lot of blue ball 
sacrifices to return another day.

"We can hear them if they get up and will have plenty 
of time to get dressed if we hear anything." This was 
my closer. The house is from the prohibition era and 
creeks in the wind imagine what footsteps do.

She says nothing and quietly runs up stairs. As I 
watch that beautiful tight ass head up the stairs, I 
reach down to confirm we are ready for this. Not that 
it was necessary; I was already harder than trying to 
get off welfare. 

She makes her way back down carrying more clothes. "I 
brought down more clothes to seem less suspicious, 
and checked to see what they were doing." Like I 
said, good student.

She drops the clothes into the pile. I turn her 
around to embrace her and as we are locked in a kiss 
I undo her jeans once more. Leaving them on her 
waist, I walk her over to the pool table still lip 
locked. She pushes back.

"Not here, to dirty." In hind sight, nothing in this 
basement would be cleaner but at the time I wasn't 
going to argue with such simple logic. 

As we step away from the pool table she unbuttons my 
jeans. In the tangle we collapse to the floor softly. 
Had this been upstairs her parents would have heard 
it, fortunately carpet on concrete doesn't rattle a 
near 80 year old home.

As she lies on top of me, still locked in an eternal 
and passionate kiss. Our hands are exploring each 
other the consistency of what a baby does with his 
father's face. 

Our kiss breaks and I realize we are lying at the 
base of the stairs and if either parent decided to 
rotate laundry spontaneously we would find ourselves 
looking up the stairs into an angry face. Not that 
this slowed down the passion. She stood up and 
slipped off her jeans and panties completely, I 
wiggled mine down to my thighs.

The memory that is burned in my head and reminds me 
of this entire scene is here. I lie stretched out on 
the dusty carpeted floor of a basement. Iz steps over 
me, naked from the waist down. I'm not a boob or ass 
man, not to say these are not great things. My 
judgment is highest of the crown jewel and rare 
temple. Her pussy was well kept, clean and visibly 
tight. On her figure, it appears untouched by anyone. 
As she lowers herself down upon me, straddling my 
rock solid cock. I feel every centimeter of her inner 
walls as she slides onto me like a fitted glove.

No foreplay was necessary, the mere excitement of 
this moment got us ready to get strait to what we 
both desired most, each other.

Her finger nails dig into my chest as she begins to 
rock herself back and forth. At first, I let her 
enjoy herself and played the lazy lover role but I 
couldn't wait. I don't remember if it was the throws 
of passion and love for her or the desire to pleasure 
us both even more. I reached behind her back and up 
to her shoulders. Timing her rhythm with my own, I 
pulled her harder onto me with each thrust using my 
arms to pull down her shoulders and all of her weight 
onto my cock.

Her head rolled forward and back as her nails 
continued to gouge out my body. At this point she 
can't control it. She falls forward with my cock 
still balls deep inside her. Despite only being an 
average 5-6 inches the extra push goes a long way. 
Never mind the fact; I can flex it inside her.

I give her a moment to catch her breath, stealing 
little kisses and caressing her face in the interim. 
As we cherish this moment we stop to hear footsteps 
upstairs. We have been quiet thus far, but as it 
comes closer to the stairs our hearts race. She 
frantically stands up to hide by the laundry room.

We wait.

Suddenly the sound of water through pipes echo around 
us and we hear the distinct sound of a kitchen faucet 
being used. A sigh of relief comes over us both. I 
hadn't moved assuming, as I trusted before, they had 
no reason to come down.

Footsteps make their way above us where the TV is and 
stop.

She comes back toward me laughing quietly with me. We 
dodged a bullet just then. While I assume they 
wouldn't be surprised, Iz tells me that they don't 
believe we are fucking. I sit up baffled, I grab 
another kiss.

"I'm not done yet," I whisper softly in her ear, my 
heart still trying to calm itself from the adrenal 
rush.

I take Iz by the hand and bring her to the floor and 
lay her on her back, taking the jeans from her hands 
and tossing them to the side. I spread her beautiful 
legs and position myself above her, aiming at her 
still tender mound. Slowly, I push inside as she lets 
out a tiny yelp before biting her hand.

I slowly quicken the pace, closing my eyes to take in 
each stroke. I lean down to nestle to her body. Her 
hands reach behind and start to claw at my back. God, 
does that feel amazing, sex and a back scratch to 
confirm you are doing it right.

I sit up and she reaches out to grab something else 
besides me. I push harder trying to keep the sound 
coming from upstairs more audible than my loving 
making with their daughter downstairs.

She lets out a dangerously audible but very sexy 
moan.

"Shhh," I said softly, as she crosses her hand from 
the leg of the couch over, covering her mouth to keep 
from alerting her mom and step-dad. We could still 
hear the television upstairs with the latest reports 
from Fox News.

I looked down at Iz who was still holding her hand to 
her mouth, only now to keep from giggling. Her soft 
brown hair was in a ponytail with bangs down either 
side of her face, the way all girls' hair would be in 
my perfect world but you probably remember this part. 
Her eyes were squeezed shut as though it helped to 
dull the sound, as she moved her hand away from her 
face she was laughing silently revealing her stunning 
smile. She opened her eyes and looked at me through 
her black rimmed glasses. 

Your heart skipped a beat when she smiled and about 
die when she laughed. And since she did I stopped to 
lean in for a kiss.

We kissed like you would see in a passionate 
Hollywood flick. Our noses would nudge, blindly 
searching for each other's lips like we didn't 
already know. Heavy breathing cut short by contact 
and snuffed behind the dance of taste buds. Each 
taking turns to suck on each other's tongue. We would 
break contact to catch a breath only to plunge back 
in the throes of passion. We break contact again and 
I leaned back up to look down upon her beautiful face 
and body.

As I slowing thrust my cock in and out of her tight 
pussy, keeping an ear open for any unwanted discovery 
from her parental units. She begins to slowly arch 
her back moving with my rhythm. For emergency 
purposes we both kept our shirts on but both of us 
have one hand up the other's shirt. Clutching and 
caressing one another. While I wasn't shredded, I 
certainly had an upper body that... let's just say 
made college dating easy.

It took both of us every ounce of our willpower not 
to tear the rest of our clothes off.

We carefully reach a pace that kept both of us from 
crying out. She never told me that she was coming, 
but she also didn't need to, your pussy doesn't lie 
when it clenches tighter around my cock; a factor 
that makes it increasingly difficult to last longer 
for men. From her hips, I pulled her down onto my 
final thrust as hard as I could, timing it with her 
climax. 

The eruption surged through both of us my seed 
barreling through my cock and filling her tight 
pussy. The air smelled of sex, her pussy was dripping 
with her juices and my seed. I stayed inside her 
pumping the last of the seed deep inside her.

"I can feel it, your cum is so warm," she said. If 
the sex didn't knock me out, that sentence sure did. 
We cleaned up and put in another load of laundry 
before heading back up to her room. We still had time 
to kill before I went home, before we knew it we were 
lip locked in another make out session. 

Her hand made its way into my jeans slowly stroking 
my spent cock for round two. Her hand undid my jeans 
as I messaged her breasts and caress her face. With 
my pants undone she fished out my cock which sprang 
out at her. She gave me one last hard kiss before 
making her way down.

Again, as amazing as my wife is today, Iz still holds 
the record for best blowjob in my book. Milking me as 
she went, dancing her tongue across the tip, I 
grabbed her hair like I was in control but truthfully 
she had me by the balls; in a good way.

"Where do you want me to finish?" I ask barely able 
to concentrate but trying to be polite. 

She stops but continues to stroke long enough to say, 
"In my mouth."

"Alright... almost there." I held it trying to build 
up a mass. "I'm cumming, baby!" Right then and there 
she lets out an 'mmhmm' and I explode into her mouth. 
How I had anything left from less than an hour prior 
is beyond me but she knew how to make it happen. 

She would wait to spit or swallow as per your 
request. In my horniness I asked her to come share it 
with me. She climbed onto her bed on top of me and we 
exchanged cum and kisses until we both swallowed a 
little.

As was common after every blowjob, while lie there 
recovering and taking it all in. Iz would always skip 
away to brush her teeth. Then return to kiss you ever 
so happily.

End

Depending on how well received this, my first, story 
is I shall write more stories about Izabella and me, 
other girls and even my wife. Maybe even some earlier 
experimental stories.

Thanks so much! -historG

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
any way, shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any 
of the scenarios in this story should seriously 
consider seeking professional help.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 82