by Uther Pendragon

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This material is Copyright, 2003, Uther Pendragon. All rights reserved. I specifically grant the right of downloading and keeping ONE electronic copy for your personal reading so long as this notice is included. I would prefer to do my own reposting, thank you.

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All persons here depicted, except public figures depicted as public figures in the background, are figments of my imagination and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

by Uther Pendragon

"Aren't you adorable?" Shelley cooed at my baby son. In twenty or thirty years Brian would bring a project in under deadline, just like his old man had last week; and he'd only hear that it was over budget, just like his old man had. Now, he garnered praise for sleeping. "Honestly, Jeff, Brian looks just like you."

"She still has a crush on you," Kristen said.

Shelley blushed. "I just think that Jeff is a pretty neat guy," she said.

Kristen snorted. Now, she must have thought that I had some good points; she'd married me after all. But, having married me, she wasn't about to admit any such opinion when I was within earshot.

As to her sister, I'd met Shelley on my first trip to visit Kristen's family. I had been very much "on approval." Kristen had to sleep with her sister to let me use her room. Aside from my actually being a pretty neat guy, I was fairly-well obliged to act nicely towards Shelley under those conditions.

(Yes, another sleeping arrangement had occurred to me. No, I hadn't dared suggest it.)

Besides that, she had been going through that coltish stage of girlhood then, not quite child -- not yet woman, and Shelley is one of those people who can't control their blushes. It didn't hurt at all that the woman-shape she grew into later was just about my ideal. Kristen can't object to that. You could always tell the sisters apart, especially in their faces; but you could always tell that they were sisters, too.

Shelley became sort of the younger sister whom I had never had, but I didn't push that relationship to the extent of teasing her into blushing as her sister and even her parents did, as a real brother certainly would have done.

On later trips, Shelley and I would usually spend one evening downstairs talking after everyone else had gone up, Kristen having confided in me that she "needed some time alone." And -- although most of the conversations were totally innocuous -- once I had been able to counsel Shelley on boys and their quirks. That conversation was almost lit by her blushes, but it had led to a few e-mails before she found someone else to give her advice.

Anyway, the nearly four years since that first visit had been sprinkled with reports from Kristen that "Shelley has such a crush on you." Sometimes the impetus was reasonably clear. A letter or a phone conversation had included mention of my name, or Shelley was present to blush at the report.

Sometimes the connection was distant, at best.

The quarter-break after that first visit to her home, Kristen and I didn't leave campus; my roommate did. Earlier precious hours of privacy and her whispered instructions had taught my tongue the way around her inner beauty, and that was my agenda for that afternoon. My roomie had left at eleven, after all, and there was no sense in waiting for nightfall.

"There is," Kristen said, "no hurry at all." That didn't count the hurry in my groin, but we did it her way. We almost always did, and it was almost always exquisite. We kissed, we petted, she stripped me to my waist before I removed her bra. She had one orgasm from my hand before we got to the main event. In those days, I was inordinately proud that I could bring her two orgasms in a single session.

Anyway, I kissed her mouth and her still-stiff nipples goodbye and scooted down the bed to her thighs.

She raised and spread her knees to give me maximal access. I kissed her thighs and sniffed the aroma that told me she was ready. I used my thumbs to part her outer lips. The inner ones were juicy and protruding. I licked along that ridge, and then slowly parted them with my tongue.

Her nectar tasted sweet and a little salty as I licked upwards. Stopping just short of her clitoris, I returned my tongue to the pool of her juices. Meanwhile, my breath was warming her clitoris and her sensitive flesh just around it.

I slid my arms up until my hands could cup her breasts. I gently stroked her nipples while my mouth was busy below.

Soon, she stiffened and pulled my head against her. I slipped my right arm down and was able to insert one finger into her tunnel. I rubbed the top there while sucking very gently around her clitoris. She undulated underneath my face while clutching around my finger.

Finally, she pushed my head away. I immediately withdrew my finger. Then I moved up the bed to lie hugging her.

"Do you have a rubber?" she asked after her breath came back.

Did I have a condom? Does Kansas have wheat?

"Do you want me to put one on?" I asked. I reached over towards the nightstand. Finally, I got the box out and extracted one packet. I opened it and fumbled the condom on.

"Be very gentle," she said. "I've never done this before."

Neither had I, and her statement scared me for a moment. Would I hurt her? Would she bleed? Would I even be able to find the place?

After wiping my face off with the sheet, I kissed her mouth. I retraced my earlier path down her body with my lips. When I opened her below, I started back up. While still kissing her mouth, I positioned myself. Her hand came down to guide me to just the right spot.

She was tight around the head of my cock. Tight and incredibly hot. As I pushed in, however, there was no real resistance.

When I was in as far as I could go, I looked at her face. She didn't appear to be in discomfort. Neither did she look like she did when she was near climax.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm okay. I feel glorious. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Do you want to move?"

If anything, moving in and out felt even better. As warm and smooth as her mouth had felt over my cock, it was nothing to compare with moving inside her. Soon, I couldn't help but speed up. I was pulling almost out and then ramming myself into her.

I exploded. Then I collapsed onto her sweet frame.

For minutes, I felt nothing but her hands patting me on the back. Then she was giggling under me.

"What so funny?" I asked.

"You are. Can you roll over?"

I did. "That was wonderful," I told her. "That was the best I've ever felt in my whole life."

"I'm glad."

"It wasn't wonderful for you was it?"

"I enjoyed it. I loved the feel of you inside me. You know, Shelley is right."

"Huh," I said, sounding more intelligent than I felt.

"You are a pretty neat guy."

That was nice to hear, but she hadn't come. Nor did she that evening when we tried it again. Later, lying in bed with my roomie in the next room and Kristen blocks away, I relived every detail of that experience. I decided that my worries had been silly. My finger had been there before me; her fingers had; there had been at least one boy back home, and who knows how many tampons. She'd never been quite so explicit about her freshman year as she had about her precollege past -- these were guys I was likely to meet, after all -- but she had gone through a lot of relationships before she met me at the beginnings of our sophomore year.

I never doubted that I was the first man she had gone all the way with. She was so open about her other activities before me that she wouldn't lie about that.

For some time, we went on as we had done that first afternoon. I would bring her to a climax -- maybe several, then I would have my climax inside her.

Meanwhile, other life went on. We ended our sophomore year; I suffered through a summer away from her; I got a new roommate in for my junior year, a guy named Jason. I visited Kristen's family on our spring break.

The time with her was lovely. Her family treated me kindly. On the other hand, her closeness was a constant provocation, and there was no way to relieve that provocation in that house. The last day before we left, her mother took Kristen aside for a very private chat. Kristen wouldn't tell me what it was about, although she looked a little amused when I mentioned it on the bus. We couldn't really talk there, though. We were surrounded by strangers who could overhear. We couldn't do much else, either, although we did get a little silent petting in.

Luckily Jason was out when we got to my room, He had left me a note saying he was out on a late date. That was enough permission for Kristen and me. We kissed as soon as we saw that note. Soon we were both naked on my bed. I had seen Kristen most of the time for a week; I had touched her for hours on the bus; I kissed her to a writhing climax on that bed. I was at my limit when I reached in my drawer for the box of condoms.

I found a piece of paper instead. "Jeff," I read to Kristen, "I hate to do this. But I have a hot date, and it's too late to get to the drugstore. I'll buy you another box on Monday. Jason." Monday was in the future; shopping hours on Monday were in the far distant future.

Kristen laughed. "Poor Jeff," she said. "Lie down."

I did. Her mouth was magic around me. When I erupted, she took it all. She spat into the wastebasket afterwards. "Poor Jeff," she said again, "you must have been saving that up forever."

"All week," I said. I never mentioned my solitary reliefs to her in those days.

She lay down beside me. We hugged quietly, and talked for a bit. We were young, though, and naked, and lying beside each other in a bed. We hadn't had enough contact for a week. Soon, we were petting again. I brought her to two more climaxes. She pushed me down and went to get her purse. "You wonder what Mom talked about so privately?" she asked.

I'd wondered. I'd even asked her that, and she'd refused to answer. Right then, however, I had other things on my mind. Well, mostly on other organs, but on my mind, too.

"She had noticed that I seemed to be fairly serious about you." This was more than half way through our second year together, my third visit as her guest in that home. "She worried about our getting physical. 'This isn't granting permission,' she said. But she wanted to make sure that if we did anything, I had protection." Kristen showed me a single condom. "She gave this to me. She worried that boys sometimes didn't take care. I was tempted to reassure her."

I reached for the condom. "Lie back!" she said. "This one is mine." She opened the foil and rolled the rubber slowly down my cock. A necessary interruption when I did it, her application of the condom was a sensuous delight.

She pushed me back on the bed and straddled my chest. For minutes, she moved only enough to bring one breast and then the other to my mouth. I loved that, delighted in kissiing and sucking her nipples; but I wanted more. So, really, did she. When she reached back to position my cock, I parted her lower lips with the fingers of one hand.

"Oh!" she said as she lowered herself onto me. "I've wanted that." And so had I, for days. She was gloriously warm around me, hugging my entire length. She was beautiful above me, with a lascivious smile I saw whenever I forced myself to look past those luscious breasts.

I kept one hand on her mound, the other wandered from one breast to the other. She rested her hands on the bed to either side of me. As I caressed her, she began to move up and down on my cock.

This felt wonderful. I was totally excited, totally engorged. Yet, between having come in her mouth in the past hour and lying in this strange position, I couldn't quite come. Both exalted and frustrated, I petted her as she moved in her glory above me.

Kristen was becoming more and more excited. Not only were both my hands free to reach all her other erogenous zones, she was also rubbing her g-spot directly against me. She threw her head back and forth, making her always-exciting breasts dance under my hands. She was flushed and panting.

Then she climaxed. I could see a ripple of tensed muscles start at her ribs and proceed towards our junction. I could feel her spasms around my cock. That, finally, took me over. I pulsed within that clutching warmth.

She collapsed over me. We both lay there gasping as I oozed out. Minutes later, I managed to raise my arms to hug her. We might have been lying there yet, but the alarm rang -- Jason would be back in fifteen minutes.

When Kristen got up, most of the condom was still in her. The mouth, luckily was outside by inches. Most of my jism had poured out. She grinned at me, pulled out the condom, and threw it in the wastebasket.

I walked her home, leaving the dorm well after I had expected Jason. "I suppose I should forgive him," I said. That had been the finest sexual experience of my life thus far.

"I don't see why," Kristen said. "I enjoyed myself greatly, but that was your doing. It was hardly his."

We learned from that experience, even so. In our later encounters, I would bring Kristen to more than one orgasm, then excite her to the brink of another. Only then would I enter her.

Forgiving or not, I wanted an end to roommates. When I got an internship with Bradley Electronics that summer, I got my own one-room apartment off campus. I signed a year-long lease.

Kristen would visit me there; she would even cook us meals there. She wouldn't move in. When she ignored my hints towards the end of the first quarter, I invited her openly. She rejected the idea.

Meanwhile, our relationship was developing. I still petted her to orgasm before I tried anything else. But her orgasms during intercourse were now reliable -- indeed, quite enthusiastic. We no longer needed her to be on top, although I still found that a great position. I had both hands free, and watching Kristen work herself closer and closer to the edge was a recurring delight. I could feel it, of course, whatever position we adopted.

And, with only ourselves in the apartment, we found places other than the bed for making love. She didn't like being on the bottom on the floor, and who could blame her? Even with her lesser weight on me, I found it uncomfortable; the sensations were worth the discomfort, though.

Towards the end of the second quarter, I really pushed. By that time, I was seriously considering matrimony -- although I hadn't mentioned that to her, yet. Whatever the case, we should live together for a while before we committed to doing it for the rest of our lives.

I had planned my campaign. I had fed her a good meal for which I'd done all the cooking. I'd kissed her until she was anxious to go beyond that. Then I'd brought her to four orgasms without seeking my own. "Enjoying yourself?" I'd asked while we took a break lying side by side in the bed.

"Yes. I always enjoy myself with you." The 'always' was a white lie; I can be a bastard on occasion. Still, I tried to make our times together as pleasant for her as possible.

"You could have this every night, you know. Why not move in? By now, even your mother knows that we have something physical going on."

"I can't!"

"Why? Tell me. Maybe it's something I can change. But, if you don't tell me, it's not likely to be something I do change."

"You wouldn't like me any more if I told you."

"But I'd still love you. How can I love you if there is this big thing about you that I don't know?"

"It's not big. It's much less important than you think."

"It's important enough to keep you from lying in my arms all night. It's important enough to make me walk you home again and again."

"Well, if I tell you, you will only walk me home once more."

"Is it another man?" I was scared.

"No. It's not even about sex, although you wouldn't believe that."

It took me a lot longer to tease it all out of her. I had been so proud of giving her multiple orgasms. The number I gave her, however, couldn't compare with the number she gave herself. At least once a month, sometimes more often, she had to lie in bed and bring herself off many times in a row. How many, she didn't know. She thought the number varied from one month to the next, but she wasn't in a mood to count them at the time.

She'd done this since about a year after puberty. And the discovery of masturbation had released her from really bad periods. I was the first person she had ever told, and she only told me because I wouldn't let the subject go. When she needed a little privacy at home, that is what she needed to do.

"And having you around all the time just makes the need worse. You'll think it's all about sex, but it's not. It's just about getting a little relief. When you came in me and I didn't come, that was sex."

"And you need privacy for that? You couldn't do it lying in bed beside me?"

"No. Never."

"Well, I already know you do it. And I'm not horrified." My ego was fairly-well crushed, but I wasn't horrified. I had been so proud of the orgasms I delivered; now I knew that these were a trifle compared to the home-brewed ones she needed. "We can arrange times for me to leave you alone. For that matter, I'll probably be gone enough times so that special scheduling is unnecessary."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your moving in." We hadn't been talking about anything else. "If you moved in, I could find a way to give you the privacy you need."

"You still want me?" she asked. As a matter of fact, I wanted her desperately. I'd concentrated on her satisfaction as a prelude to this conversation. I wanted her then and there, and picturing her pleasuring herself hadn't helped.

"I still want you to move in. What ground-rules do you require?"

"Oh Jeff." She kissed me. One thing led to another, and we didn't finish the discussion that night. She did lay down conditions later, but she did move in.

One of her conditions was that I not mention the subject any more. If she needed time alone, she would say that. Neither of us would mention why she needed it. I found, as I had suspected, that her "once a month" meant just before her period. Without even making her say that she needed time alone, I would be careful to tell her that I would be staying at the computer lab late or the library until it closed at those times.

She could claim that this had nothing to do with sex, and she seemed to believe that. Still the aroma when I got home was sexy as hell. If she'd done that in Shelley's room on my visits to her family, I couldn't see how Shelley hadn't known.

One Saturday, I was planning to give her some privacy. Then the heavens opened. The rain was coming down in sheets, and getting to the library was out of the question. Nor was there likely to be any place I could go the next day; the library and the computer lab would be closed, the park would be unbearably wet. I could tell that she was antsy, but she could tell that I wasn't pulling her chain deliberately. It was raining a little more lightly when we went to bed.

When I turned to her, I had an idea. We petted as we usually did, although I may have been more direct than was my custom. Soon, she was lying on her back with my mouth on her breast and my right hand on her mound. After her first climax, though, I didn't move to replace my hand with my mouth. Instead, I kissed her on the mouth and continued stroking her.

I counted ten of her climaxes before my hand tired out. "I love you," I said. "Can you carry on from here?"

This violated her condition of silence on the subject, and she had absolutely rejected the idea doing anything while I was present. By this time, however, she had more important things on her mind. Her hand moved down to replace mine. I counted twelve more orgasms. There may have been more, she didn't relax much between them towards the end.

After the last, she turned over and went to sleep. I turned off the light and held her close. It took me a while to doze off, though. In the first place, I was quite aroused. In the second, I was thinking about everything I had learned.

In the morning, we made sweet love. Kristen, whom I would have expected to have run dry, came once to my hand and again around me.

A month later, I came home from a long bout in the computer lab to find Kristen asleep and the bed saturated with the aroma of her arousal. By the next time her period rolled around, our graduation was looming over our future. Well, it had been looming for some time, but -- by then -- even I couldn't ignore it.

Anyway, I had scheduled a long visit to the library for the last possible day. The night before, I kissed and petted Kristen as usual. Instead of moving over her when she climaxed, though, I kept up my strokes. She came a second time and -- very soon after the second -- a third time. I kissed her ardently, and then trailed kisses down to her breast. I broke from kissing her nipple to say, "My hand is tired; want to take over?" Then I went back to sucking on her nipple.

She hesitated for a bit. Then she spread her legs and reached between them. My lips were on her nipple as she convulsed again. "Oh darling," I said. Then I kissed a line from one breast to the other. I was licking the far nipple when she got close again. I managed to time it so that I sucked the entire top in while she was climaxing. Then I kissed her forehead while she went on with her strokes.

When she seemed to be coming to the end, I grabbed a condom. I knelt between her legs and pushed her hands away. When I kissed and licked her center, she reacted immediately. After that orgasm, I moved up her body and entered her. She continued to climax.

The first two were the first climaxes she had ever had around me without my participation. They were glorious. She clutched around me and thrust her groin upward against mine. I could hear her panting in my ear.

Her third carried me with her. The feel of her tightening around me triggered me, and I gushed into her -- or, at least, it felt like it was going into her. The condom held, however.

We slept wrapped together that night. The morning was too hectic for any discussion, and I really did have studying to do at the library that night. It wasn't until she got home the next night that we could talk.

"Look," I said. "The lease is about to run out. Should I renew, or do we need a bigger place next year?"

"What makes you think there will be a 'we' next year?"

"That's the other thing. Will you marry me? This has been great, but we're about to turn into college graduates -- old people. Don't you think we need more permanence and legality in our lives?"

"You're asking me to marry you?"

"Yes. I want to spend my life with you. Marriage seems to be the way to do that."

"I thought that you would consider me too odd."

"Well, you seem to like me. That's odd enough. But, as for the other thing, it's maybe not something you should tell your mother, but I have thought of you sexually for a long time. I'm not shocked that you are sexy."

"I've told you before. Sex has nothing to do with it."

"So, you think I have weird opinions. Will you marry me anyway?"

"I dunno," she said. "Maybe I should ask Shelley's advice." I was devastated, and she must have seen that. "Silly! Of course I will. You should know what Shelley would say. When did you have in mind?"

I didn't really have anything in mind. I wanted to be married; I'd have been perfectly willing to skip the wedding if that had been possible. "Soon. Just when requires scheduling. I've been saving up for the ring."

She ended up wanting a very small ring. The wedding was in her home town. We kept the apartment one more year, and she got a job in town. Bradley turned out to still think of me as their kid intern. I got a job with Dalton Technologies, and we rented a bigger apartment. The single room was fine for the two of us, but we wanted a family.

Over that year, I had learned more about her. Just before her period, her breasts were more tender. I don't bite, but she normally likes hard suction and pressure from my hands and lips. While she is bringing herself off, gentle licking is better. She was never difficult to bring to orgasm; even the early problem we had during intercourse was more my excitement than her slowness. During these special times, though, her climaxes came even more easily.

We'd already decided that children were in our near future a little before her first period in our new apartment. I stroked her to three orgasm, then I let her excite herself while I kissed her and watched.

Towards the end, I knelt between her legs. I kissed her to one orgasm and then to the edge of another. Then I entered her. It was our first time without a condom, and she was smooth and very, very, warm. With nothing between us, I felt her grip me as another orgasm shook her body. Then I was driving within her faster and faster. I actually began to climax first, but she joined me in a mutual explosion.

Much later, I moved to her side. I hugged her. "That was the best," I said. "The best it's ever been. and every time with you is delightful."

She didn't say a word, but she hugged my arm as we dropped off to sleep. Brian wasn't conceived that time, of course. Her period began two days later. Still, it was a symbol for me. I think it was a symbol for her, too. Our life as a family included satisfying her needs.

When we did conceive a baby, everybody on both sides of the family was joyful. We were overjoyed, ourselves. And we were even happier at the effects on our love life -- even if we couldn't tell anyone else. Kristen's driving need for orgasm didn't occur during that entire period. (Of course, we didn't check on what would have happened if we had denied her an orgasm for a week or two.) It remained easy to bring her to orgasm, though. As she grew larger, we had to abandon some positions. Still, there were positions enough, and having your wife desire your attentions every day is a wonderful feeling.

Kristen rather stole the show when we arrived for Shelley's graduation. She was obviously pregnant by that time. I apologized to Shelley for the division of the attention on what should have been her day. "Nonsense," she said. "I've already talked to Kristen, and I'm invited to visit when the baby is born."

And so she was, and so she did. She had enrolled in the university, so she arrived two days before orientation began and stayed with us. We put her in what would be Brian's room. Shelley was enjoying being an aunt. And we were enjoying her obvious admiration of the center of our lives.

"I hope," I said to Shelley, "that you don't mind my going into your room." I picked up Brian and carried him over to his cradle.

"Really, Jeff," Shelley said when I came out, "it's Brian's room. I just hope you don't mind my interfering with your parenting for your son."

"Don't worry about Jeff," Kristen said. "The only part of parenthood he really enjoyed ended with Brian's conception." Now, that was unfair. I did enjoy that part, but I enjoy caring for Brian and holding him, too.

Shelley turned pink. "Look at her blush," Kristen said. "You'd think you were seeing a virgin at nineteen." At this, Shelley turned from pink to bright red. It was fun to see, I'll admit; but I took pity on her.

"So, Shelley," I said, "what are you going to be taking this quarter?"

Kristen snorted. We'd already heard the answer. For that matter, Shelley was going to take more-or-less what Kristen and I had. Freshmen don't have all that much choice.

Still, Shelley was grateful for my change of topic. We talked about her plans until Brian cried. "Want to change him?" Kristen asked. Shelley nodded. The two of them went into Shelley's (or Brian's) room and shut the door. I went into our room and got ready for bed. Since we had a guest, I put on pajamas. For that matter, I wore a robe for my trip to the bathroom.

Kristen came in some time later and rummaged through her closet. She went out with her robe and the fancy peignoir which her mother had given her in preparation for our marriage. Now, I like that nightgown. While I prefer her naked, I knew that this was inappropriate for this night. (It was inappropriate even though Shelley and I had each seen her naked many times. I didn't expect her to appear naked in front of the two of us.) Still, I wouldn't have expected her to wear the peignoir in those circumstances, either.

I lay in bed imagining Kristen changing into that outfit. The blankets tented over me. This was the wrong night for such imaginings. It was still too early for us to resume intercourse. Kristen had said, "You've always been willing to take care of me; I'm willing to take care of you." We would lie side by side, and her hands would caress my balls while her mouth covered my cock. I was still too afraid of bringing germs to her stressed-out vagina. So I kept my kisses, although not caresses, above her waist. Even that would be out for this night, though. Shelley would be too close.

There was a light knock on the bedroom door. It had to be Shelley, Kristen would come right in. What did Shelley want? I turned on my side -- the most effective way to get rid of that tent. "Come in," I called.

Shelley was blushing wildly when she walked in. She was also wearing Kristen's peignoir. "What the ...?" I said.

Shelley whispered something. Then she managed to speak audibly, "She said you'd be gentle with me."

"Gentle?" Had I ever been rough with Shelley? Now, rough with Kristen, sure -- but that was sex play, and not during her pregnancy.

"You were gentle with her, you'll be gentle with me." She blushed a deeper shade of red. I finally tumbled. I turned back the bedclothes in silent invitation. Shelley got in under the blankets. I covered us up.

"Shelley, have I ever kissed you?" I knew the answer.

She shook her head 'no.'

"It's about time I did." I leaned over to kiss her mouth. I kept my hands to myself, for the moment, but I pressed forward with my tongue. Her mouth tasted sweet under the toothpaste. I could feel her nervousness.

I broke the kiss. "It's really your first time?" I asked. Shelley had gone through half a dozen boyfriends in the last two years. I couldn't believe she'd brought her virginity -- however technical -- to college. She nodded and blushed more.

The story came in fits and starts, between kisses and during caresses which I kept outside the peignoir. Kristen had teased her again in the room about blushing like a virgin. Shelley had confessed that she was. By this time, she was an unwilling one. She wanted passion but was afraid of pain, to say nothing of being afraid of pregnancy. "You need someone like Jeff," Kristen had said. She never would have said that within my hearing.

"I've been looking for someone like Jeff," Shelley had answered. "I don't meet men, only boys." I was only five years her senior; she'd known me for four of those years. On the other hand, she'd seen me as an older man for all that time.

Kristen had said. "Jeff likes you; you like Jeff. Too bad you two can't get together." I wasn't there, but I know my wife. That comment had been only to draw a deeper blush from Shelley.

"Too bad," Shelley had said. "I'd trust Jeff more than the boys I know." Somehow -- I wasn't there, and Shelley wasn't clear -- the suggestion had turned serious.

Kristen had lent her the peignoir and sent her in to me. "She said," Shelley told me, "that you were gentle with her. You would be gentle with me."

I'm not sure that I had been gentle with Kristen. I'm not sure I'd had any style with Kristen; I had been following her lead. Shelley's leading, on the other hand, clearly had ended when she got in the door. I was the experienced party in that bed. And I was a good deal less nervous about Shelley than I had been about her sister. I knew where my cock went, not only in theory but by feel. And I knew this time that she wouldn't bleed; whatever hadn't been up Shelley, enough had that the way would be clear.

Still, I had been advertised as going to be gentle. And Kristen and I had petted up a storm for hours before our first time together. For that matter, we'd petted up a storm for the quarter before. Shelley might be willing to just pull up her skirt and spread her legs. (On the other hand, if she had been willing to do that, I'm sure that there had been plenty of opportunities in her high school.) That wasn't really an introduction to intercourse, however. What I needed to show her was the full pattern, from the introductory kisses which we'd already begun through the preliminary climax a good man brought his partner, to the final orgasm during intercourse.

If Shelley were anything like her sister, of course, that final orgasm wouldn't occur her first time. Still, I knew a lot more than I had known four years before. I'd enter Shelley when she was worked up. If I could bring her to orgasm the first time, I would measure up to my billing.

When I kissed her again, I let my hand slide up the peignoir to cup her breast. I left it there when I broke the kiss. She sighed audibly, and the nipple pushed back at my palm. I kissed all around her face; then returned to her mouth for a deep kiss. This time, her tongue responded to mine. I broke the kiss to look deeply into her eyes. Shelley blushed.

I adjusted my hand to cup the bottom of her breast. The thumb and forefinger could hold the nipple through the thin cloth. I bent to kiss the peak of her other breast. That nipple responded by hardening as much as the other. Shelley blushed, deeper if that were possible, and started to raise the skirt of the peignoir.

"Where did Kristen say she would be sleeping?" I asked.

"In Brian's room."

"Then we have all the time in the world, don't we?" She blushed again but lay back. "Look, follow my lead. If something hurts you or disgusts you, then you can say no. Up to then, let me set the pace. You came to learn, after all."

"You're right. You're always so right." No I wasn't, but -- just now -- it was good that she thought so.

I kissed her and cuddled her. I returned to her mouth time and again. Between those times, though, my kisses strayed to her neck and her bare arms. I kissed her breasts through the peignoir, too. Finally, I lifted the hem. She sat up, and I helped her take it off. I kissed her mouth again and covered her with the sheet.

I was kissing her as my hand caressed her bare skin. Her nipple was hard against my palm. Going lower, I smoothed the skin over her belly. I pulled the sheet up with my other hand. When my fingers passed over her mound, she squeezed her legs together. Fine. I stroked her thighs gently, down, then up until I touched her lower lips. She stiffened, but didn't say anything.

I stroked her thighs, trailing my fingers between them. As I did that, I kissed her face, then her throat, then her shoulders. I brushed the sheet lower with my face as I kissed the top parts of her breasts. She tensed as I got near her nipple, relaxed when I moved to the top of her other breast, tensed again as I approached that nipple. I did this three or four times before I actually kissed the far nipple. "Oh Jeff," she said. She made even my name sound romantic.

I licked the nipple then sucked it. I kissed a path down that breast and up the other one, a circle around the areola before touching it. I tried to lick the areola without touching the nipple. I didn't quite succeed, but the randomness of that contact was turning her on. I felt her belly relax under my forearm.

It tensed again when I sucked fully on the nipple. She relaxed much more when I withdrew my lips, her legs falling apart. I took that opportunity to clasp her entire mound in my hand. Her legs clamped together again, but my hand was where it wanted to be. The next time I sucked her nipple, her mound rose up against my hand.

She still reacted with tension, but it felt like a different kind of tension. I returned to her mouth, pursuing her tongue with my own. While that was the agenda for the top half, my fingers explored her outer lips. She didn't trim her hair there at all. It felt silky. I played with it for a bit before parting those lips.

When I did, I could feel her juiciness. Nervous, she might have been; tense she might still be; but she was turned on as well. I spread some of that juice upward on the insides of her outer lips, just missing the inner ones. On the third pass, I brushed against the inner ones -- touching them as lightly as possible. It seemed to me that Shelley inhaled more deeply in response to that touch.

I kissed up her neck towards her mouth as I parted the inner lips. I timed it so that my tongue met hers just as my finger brushed her clit.

You can't jump while lying flat on the bed with someone holding you down at the groin and pressing you down at your mouth. She jumped anyway. Luckily, her mouth opened further rather than closing on my tongue.

I took some time spreading her juices all over her lips. When my finger returned to her clit, my mouth returned to her nipple. I kept reminding myself to vary what I was doing. I would have been stroking Kristen's clit all the time by now, but Kristen is a unique woman. Anyway, as I had told her, there was every reason for Shelley and me to take our time. I played with her lower lips, only occasionally brushing her clit. I stroked it firmly even less often. I moved from one breast to the other often enough that I hoped neither was getting sore.

When Shelley seemed near, I kissed downwards from her breast. I removed my finger from her valley entirely and caressed her mound with my palm instead. I climbed between her legs, moving them further apart as I did so.

When I kissed her thigh, Shelley shook. She could tell where my kisses were heading. Although her legs were spread, her lips had closed. I kissed them -- just lips, no tongue. Then I spread them with my hand. My first lick got a rich taste of her juice.

When my tongue first touched her clit, she bucked. Now I did concentrate there. She had been as close as I had hoped. A few tongue strokes and she went over. I licked there while she shuddered. Finally I covered the entire region of the top of her valley, the part within a half inch of her clit, with my mouth. I sucked. Still sucking, I licked while she convulsed.

When I let go, she collapsed. I was in the midst of extricating myself when she shuddered for one last time. I had bought a box of condoms in expectation of Kristen's recovery. I lay next to Shelley while I recovered that box from my drawer and got it open.

I put one still-sealed packet in my left hand and cuddled Shelley with my right arm. We had scheduled an occasion for her; it wouldn't have been fair to start it while she was distracted. Slowly, her breathing returned to normal. When she turned her head towards mine, I kissed her shoulder. "You okay?" I asked.

"Yes." She took a few more breaths. "It's never been like that." That was very nice to hear. Shelley had always been good for my ego. I trailed my kisses towards her breast. "Are we going to...?" she asked. Her blush spread all the way to the tops of her breasts.

"Yes. Soon." She blushed, if anything, more deeply. This was fascinating to see this closely. Even her nipples seemed to get more blood. Maybe that was from my attentions. I licked the close one, then the other, then the close one again. when I went over to the far breast a second time, I changed to serious sucking. I fingered her lower lips at the same time. She was still juicy, or maybe juicy again. I withdrew my hand to open the packet.

Experience tells. I could keep kissing her while applying the condom. When I climbed between her legs I pulled each of her knees up to give me what I figured to be the best access.

I spread her inner labia with my fingers and placed my cock between them. "You're there!" she said. I was there.

"Do you want to?" I asked.

"Oh yes!" I pressed forward until I felt Shelley all around my tip. It was the right place, but I wasn't going in. The tightness was maddening. My cock wanted to be -- needed to be -- surrounded by that tightness. I pushed.

For an instant, she was tighter than ever, but I wasn't moving. Then she said "oh!" The tightness clasped all around the head. Slowly, fighting the need to drive into her, I went inward until there wasn't any of me to go deeper. Then I raised myself up until I could focus on her face.

"You all right?" I asked.

"I'm okay. It's not hurting so much now."

"Want me to stop here?" Could I?

"Just stay like this." Surrounded by her warmth and tightness, I stayed above her.

"Say when," I said.

"When. Could you keep it slow?"

Before moving my cock, I adjusted my arms so I could stroke her breasts. Then, very slowly, I eased backwards. "That feels better," she said.

I took the opportunity to kiss her. "Tell me if there is a new hurt," I said. After all, there was nothing I could do about the original one. Then I eased forwards. I couldn't make myself stop there. The feelings were so wonderful, her tight cunt gripped me so closely. Gradually, I sped up. She didn't complain, even put her arms around me.

I could feel the pressure building. "Shelley!" I said. Then I rammed into her and pulsed. And pulsed. When it ended, so did I. I dropped onto her. A minute later, I managed to roll off her. I lay on the bed sideways facing her and cuddled her to me.

"Did it hurt awfully?" I asked when I could speak.

"Not awfully."

"Feeling better?"

"Oh yes. And it won't hurt again."

"I don't think it will," I said. Of course, what did I know? I hadn't expected it to hurt the first time. I didn't ask if she had come again; obviously she hadn't.

"Well," she said. "I'm glad it was you. What if the boy had been rough?" And I hadn't been? I kissed her shoulder for a while. When a little energy returned, I removed the condom and tied a knot in the loose end. I could see just a trace of blood on it before I tossed it in the wastebasket.

I kissed her shoulder again. "Can we have a real kiss?" she asked.

"Anything you're ready for." She turned to face me, and we kissed. It was sweet if not passionate. "You'll sleep better facing the other way," I said when she broke the kiss.

"Am I going to sleep here?"

"Well, Kristen has the only other bed," I pointed out. She snuggled her sweet derriere against me. I held her breast for a moment, then moved my arm so it wasn't weighing on her. The feel of skin against my skin was comforting as I dropped off, but she was dressed in the peignoir again when I woke in the morning.

I dressed back in the pajamas for my trip to the bathroom. There, I was careful to brush my teeth. When I got back, Shelley looked awake. I leaned over to kiss her. She didn't open her mouth, and I didn't push it.

I cooked breakfast for the adults while Brian had his. "Did you two enjoy yourselves?" Kristen asked.

"Oh yes," Shelley said. She blushed again, "Jeff was every bit as gentle as you said he would be."

"I enjoyed myself very much," I said, keeping the enthusiasm out of my voice I could tell already that this was going to be my last, as well as my first, time with Shelley. I would, however, have to deal with Kristen every night of the decades to come.


The end 
Uther Pendragon

Another story about a woman's first sexual 
experience in quite different circumstances 

This story is coded (MF 1st cons inc).

The code, cons, means: All the sex is consensual.

For more on the story codes and how to use them to find the 
sorts of stories to interest you:
"Story codes for readers" 

This story is indexed under:
"etc. Stories not in other categories"

The directory to all my stories can be found at:
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