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After Prom
AFTER MY JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL PROM
During my junior year in high school, I had the opportunity to join a
club called the International Band and Folk Dancers. The members of
this group were all flaky. I took it up because of loneliness, seeking
female companionship. My partner, which I chose, was the best looking
girl there, good looking, but a little bit messed up in the head.
Candice (I called her Candy) was a sophomore at Denver Senior High. She
stood about five foot two, a trifle short by comparison to most gals
her age, but what she lost in height she made up for in personal
endowments. Candy had jet black hair shoulder length worn with as light
outward sweeping curl. Her hair shone, the way you would expect a
Veronica or Sophia's hair would shine -not a fine texture, but
hair with weight to it.
Framed in that hair was a cherubic face with high prominent cheek bones
permanently blushed. Ample out-turned lips made sure you were aware
that she was a woman and not a short sophomore girl. Her
eyes had a deep fathomless quality behind the black pupils. A guy could
lose himself trying to find her soul beneath those eyes.
As the reader is aware off by now, you note that I prefer my women on
the slightly thinner side. What possessed me to attach myself to Candy?
Her stature and the unmatched, if somewhat dumpy clothing she wore,
implied the type of body that was molded into the clothing. You know,
the type that looks absolutely voluptuous dressed, but expands to a
size 48 tub of lard upon removal of the tight panty-hose and girdle.
Candy was anything but that. What you saw clothed was the same shape
undressed. There were no elastic supports on this lady; she didn't need
them and they surely would have been a waste of time.
Candice was a member of the Church of Scientology – an organization,
that if I understand everything Candice told me, believes the only form
of government is anarchy.
They have an aggressive recruiting program. saying they can take care
of the worlds problems through mind control and modification; and that
it would only cost $625 for the first class. Sounded like mind control
to me, alright.
My friend, Rick, and I tried to talk her out of the organization, but
our efforts never really worked until five years later when she saw the
light of our reasoning.
Pathetic as her membership in this organization was, it did have some
beneficial spin-offs for me.
For one, Candice had moved away from her legal guardians because the
church said so. She lived in a house by herself.
Two; Scientology preaches free love. This affected her way of looking
at life and her sexual relationships; though she was afraid(as any
normal teenage growing up would be), she didn't have parental
guidance and because of the church's meddling with her mind she didn't
have the normal constraints of society. Her guardians were flakier than
her.
My most enduring memory of Candy is of our Junior Prom night. Though
Candice was a year younger than me, I flouted tradition and asked her
to be my date at the prom.
I showed up at her house with a corsage. She wore the most gorgeous
velvet dress, adding a certain flair of sensuousness to the air. I wore
the obligatory black tuxedo. There is not much to say of the actual
prom, other than ignoring in my class with an outsider, getting
our taken, and some very close dancing.
After the prom, we when to the IHOP near the Civic Center for breakfast
with her guardians. Candice, though normally avoiding contact with her
guardians, had invited them to meet me and I knew my meeting and making
a good impression was very important to Candice. She wanted to show
and prove to them that she wasn't a slut, as they seemed to impress
upon her, but just a normal teenage trying to grow up.
They were very direct in their questioning and asked if I'd been
fucking their and if I had enjoyed it. Upon my negative nod,
her step-father told me bluntly that I ought to get some, saying he
ought to know, he's had her many times. Even his new was no moral
help. She's lecherously eyeing my crotch.
I tried my best to maintain my composure, but they soon had me to a
quivering mass of jelly, embarrassed and fidgeting to get out of there.
We finally said our good-byes, without the convictions behind them;
even declining a much needed ride north on a cold and frigid night.
Instead, we availed ourselves of a Farwest cab.
The ride to her place is quiet; uneventful. She is simmering I feel. I
can understand why. She has been embarrassed and made to feel worse
than a two-bit whore in front of a date she has just presented to
uphold her respectability. I don't know the whole story; just what she
has been through in her home life, but I think her running away and
becoming hooked up with the scientologists is somehow related to the
treatment she has gotten at home. She has tried to mend fences and as I
was about to find out, she was going to tear those fences down forever,
to totally alienate herself from her family. I could feel to raw
hatred.
I also took note that I was beginning to assume some of this heat
myself. I was present at this despicable scene. However, I never
expected that I would be her instrument of revenge, albeit, an unknown
and un-presented instrument. We held hands in the cab, but I was
holding a cold lifeless hand - Candice' energies were directed
elsewhere; she was debating some fundamental course of action; and I
was available.
Five dollars and thirty-five cents later we pulled up the darkened
street on upper View Ridge, pulling to the curb in front of her house.
Candice opens her side before I can get out and huffs off towards the
steep, unpainted wooden steps up to the front porch.
"Do you want me to wait for you?", asks the hack.
"No, I don't suppose so. I can catch the bus home from here." And the
cabby drives off with a knowing conspiratorial smile on his face. No
wonder no one likes cabbies.
I rush up beside her fumbling for her keys in her clutch, difficult to
find anything under the burned out porch light.
I can't think of much to say to her. It has been a spoiled night for
me. Even more so for her. "I enjoyed myself tonight, Candy. Really, I
did.", but I don't sound all that convincing to her and she knows it.
She finally locates her keys and clutching them in frustration, turns
to face me, the rage still there, but softened by glistening eyes,
ready to let forth a torrent should her guard ever relax so much as a
hairbreadth.
"I tried so much to be normal, to show them I was good and proper and
respectable. I've lived with that asshole for so long that I don't know
what's proper and right anymore.
She pauses to stifle a sniffle with the back of her hand; I don't know
what to say.
"I tried to get you as mine to be mine, and not what they wanted. I
tried to make it a good night for us but I failed. I'm sorry" the lone
tear in the corner of her eye welling up, about to breach the dike.
"I'm not going to worry about your parents. We tried, but after all, I
went out with you and you're the one I'm trying to impress, not you're
parents. I took you to the prom because I like you, and you were
marvelous. Did you see how many turned their heads to see you? Don't
put yourself down." I grasp her by the shoulders trying to emphasize my
point, but I see doubt and anger still there. "Is there anything I can
do before I go home, honey?" I say softly. I regret having to leave her
in this state, but the last bus of the night will be going by in about
fifteen minutes and I'll have the rush the six blocks to catch it. I
don't look forward to a cold, damp and dismal walk home at three in the
morning.
"Stay with me tonight. Stay and keep me company. I need someone around
me now; I'm all alone in the world now - don't have anybody to call
on."
I'd never stayed out all night; at least not to the point, that after a
night of carousing with the guys, I wouldn't be back in my own bed at
home by five or six in the morning. To stay with a woman all night,
with the implications that you just can't get up at six and sneak
home(after all, that wouldn't be proper); but must stay through the
next morning, and probably the better part of the next afternoon as
well -well I don't know. I wanted to, but my responsibilities to home
said this was a no-no; jumping into the frying pan on the other burner
when they haven't even lit the fire under you yet. You know what they
say about fools would tread where they shouldn't. Well I certainly
wasn't an angel.
Problem was, Candy was vulnerable. Vulnerable to herself (the altruism
in me) and vulnerable to me (the devil may care in me). I let myself be
led in, hook, line and sinker and onto the living room sofa.
Candy wasn't rich and the surroundings reflected the frugalness of her
existence. Furnished early college-freshman style with shelves made of
painted cinder blocks and pine planks; K-mart special stereo and lots
of bean bag chairs scattered around the dimly lit room. The sofa I was
sitting on had seen many a year in other living rooms before ending up
here. But the place was clean I could see; something to be proud of
given the circumstances. I knew Candy was a proud woman.
It was with a surprise that I recognized the zip-lock, rolled baggie
with shredded wheat inside for what it was, and for the bottle of not
quite cold Cold Duck sparkling wine Candy brought out from the kitchen,
shutting off the lights behind her.
She busies herself rolling a deft pinwheel joint while I watch in
fascination; so, I get up to play some music on the stereo. Some
records we have in common, something light and befitting this mood, I
put on some Mystic Moods and join her in an oversized bean bag chair
and take the offered joint, inhaling deeply and holding as I feel the
thick acrid smoke clear from my lungs into my bloodstream.
I am not a frequent user of weed. On the few occasions I've partaken
(all since moving to here), I've noticed that it strikes me very fast
and potently. So fast and effectively that I avoid it except under the
most secure and familiar of circumstances. I have a very thin ego-shell
and worry about exposing the real me. As they say, knowledge of thine
enemy is the most potent weapon.
It is perhaps a tribute to Candy that I did accept that night. We had
never toked together before - I wasn't even aware she did, nor she, I.
But I felt very comfortable here with her; alone, just the two of us,
behind a securely locked door and no wild parties to arouse the ire of
the neighbors. Too, Candy's psyche was an open wound, the ragged edges
of her needs requiring attention.
I couldn't empathize with her needs unless I dropped my barriers to
show that I was just as vulnerable. I accepted, took a guzzle of Cold
Duck and settled back into the bean bag with Candy crisscross over my
stomach, my drawn up knees supporting her back. I let the beautiful
sounds of a rainstorm accompanied to the piano recital of Sleepy Shores
waft over and through my senses. Like I said, I've always enjoyed the
Mystic Moods orchestra with its mixing of natural occurrences(like
rain) with mood setting music. The mood was set.
We shared a second joint between us, this one more conventionally
rolled with a hefty helping of grass. This hog of the tokes, a
veritable Columbian Cigar was meant to reinforce and amplify for a
longer period of time the high we got from the pinwheel at the 'snap of
a switch'. It was heady, cloying smoke that we tunneled into each
other.
The method of 'tunneling' is an art in the MJ culture. It means to take
to lit joint backwards into your mouth, while your partner takes the
other end, and to blow the THC laden smoke forcibly into the lungs of
your partner. Doing it this way produces less carbonized burn products,
release of greater amounts of the volatile oils of THC, and more volume
of smoke in the lungs than your partner can reasonably expect to draw
under his or her own power. The effect is dynamite. The high produced
is higher, more sense distorting, and longer lasting than toking three
to four times the regular way.
I was glad when we finally finished that joint. I wanted to enjoy this
floating consciousness. My hand holding my glass of wine in Candy's lap
was frozen and I stared at it for the longest time, trying to make the
glass move. I didn't want a drink, I just wanted that obstinate glass
to move. Finally I manage to tilt the glass enough but all I managed
was slopping half the wine into her lap. I felt the moisture over my
hand, wet under where her beautiful dress collected a puddle of slowly
warming vin a' rouge. We both giggled at my feeble attempts as I try to
slurp the spilled wine from her lap.
"Come on Larry. Let me change out of this dress into clothes you can
make a mess out of without destroying", Cathy says as she climbs
unsteadily to her feet and toddles off to the bedroom.
I make myself busy finding some more mood music for the player and plop
back down into my now comfortable bean bag. It has a well-worn indent
where my body slides right back into.
Cathy returns dressed in now familiar jeans and cream-colored blouse
and plops right back into her comfortable niche, facing me, back
propped against my knees, legs straight out beside me. I run my hand
lightly up the inside of her legs and back a couple of times, bringing
my up-turned palm to a rest atop the pubic arch, the back of my hand
feeling the warmth beneath. Cathy rests her own glass, atop my palm,
hands steepled around the stem.
I stare across the arms length interval between us. My head is swirling
as I try to focus on myself, dressed in faded jeans and creamy-white
blouse. I feel the heat exuding from my crotch. I feel sensuous, an
ache between my legs that cries for something, a need, a lacking.
Lifting my hand, I undo one of the buttons to my blouse, reaching under
to feel the firmness of each breast, nipples hard and painfully
sensitive. Why ain't I wearing my bra? I undo a few more buttons and
let the warm evening air circulate around my taut skin, each small
flurry of breeze sending shivers up the inner thighs. I'm intrigued as
I study my from a distance, one in each palm. They don't exactly
weigh the same. The one on the left, which is my right, is heavier, but
the same size, it seems. Candy is doing something between my legs and
it feels exciting.
Maybe I could tell the difference between titties if I tasted them, so
I reach forward, titties still in hand and give a 'popsicle-like’ suck,
taking in each nipple and letting it slide out over my tongue, grasping
the fore-end of each nipple lightly between my teeth before they wetly
pop free again. Slightly salty; not bad! Something is definitely going
on between my legs, I feel it as if I had an extension there, stuck out
in the cold being slowly pulled up and down. I feel someone's fingers
wrapped around me, but I have no dick, I have a vagina... that's silly,
and I reach down to feel my pussy, spreading my legs just so wide to
accompany my hand. There is nothing there; but I feel the hand going up
and down.
I undo the button to my jeans, sliding the brass zipper down. With both
hands, I yank my jeans and down to my ankles with one fluid
pull towards me. Reaching out a finger, I run it up the lips to emerge
wet and slick as well-oiled machinery. Absent-mindedly my
finger dry, I suddenly feel the urge for something to eat. Eat! Isn't
that what do to women and vice versa? I wonder what I taste like
and I bury my head between my voraciously attacking with tongue
and teeth the soft tender meat there.
"Easy Larry! I'm not a piece of hamburger to chew on. Tenderly and
slowly. Please", cries Cathy and I realize where I am all of a sudden
and taper off my attack.
I reclaim my identity and body as I delightedly feel a moist warm
cavern descend over my cock, taking me to the base, where lips tightly
seal and Cathy begins to draw up, her tongue rolling acrobatically over
my shaft. I groan with pleasure.
Rolling Cathy atop me in one fluid, if awkward, motion, I run my tongue
around the inside of her taking in the smell of musk. I
pass my tongue rapidly, butterfly style , slowing down now and then to
feel the texture with my tongue. I can feel her shudders as she
alternately tightens and relaxes her thigh muscles slapping against my
trapped head like a sledgehammer.
Candy's clitoris is an ample piece of dark flaccid meat, triangular
in shape, with a tumescent shaft rising along the lower edge; the
actual love bud; packed with thousands upon thousands of sensitive
nerve endings. It is about three-quarters to an inch long, enough to
protrude from the outer labia when those lips are closed. The sides
are soft and smooth, like the walls of her lips. No patterns in
this skin as elsewhere on the body. No one will ever finger-print a
pussy.
Candy's cock-sucking has progressed to a steady up and down pattern
with a new twist to it. As she goes down, her lips just barely skimming
the skin, tongue dancing whirlpools over the head and retreating back
into her mouth to stay over the pee-hole, she rotates her mouth about
ninety degrees, only to rotate back in the other direction as she draws
my cock up with her now tight lips.
Each time her lips close over the head on the up-stroke, she darts the
pointed tip of her tongue sharply into the pee-hole eliciting a
pleasurable tingle of sharp pain. The lip-tight seal is complete as she
clears the head taking and swallowing the lubricating saliva intermixed
with the first tentative drops of seminal fluid.
Each ever-increasing down stroke brings the head closer to the glottis,
the underside of my cock-head feeling the texture, every rough taste-
bud coating the surface, contributing a little taste of me to each;
sweet, sour, bitter, or salty bud tasting cock. I can by God, feel the
bony ridge of the roof of her mouth covered by smooth mucus membranes.
My face is wet; covered with salty-thick juice. I open my mouth
as wide as I can planting it atop lips and clitoris both, trying to
suck as much of her in as possible, vacuuming the juice down over my
tongue for flavor and down my throat for sustenance. While my lips hold
her captive, my tongue washes and licks every nook and cranny. I
suck as hard as I can over the clit, as much blood to the
surface as possible, heightening her sensations.
Licking both thumb and forefinger of my free hand, I slowly guide one
each into her anus and vagina; ever so slowly so as not to cause harm
until her natural lubrication takes over. I can only penetrate a half
inch of so into her anus, but it is enough to rouse a wide more feral
beast in her. My thumb is in her to the hilt keeping time to the
mouth-sucking she is giving me. Her spasms have already tried to pinch
it free from my hand.
White mucus is forming a ring about the base of my captured thumb. . .
a waxy dike around her vaginal mouth. . . and I tongue around it to get
a taste of her inner joy. Tart, almost like alum. So much different
than the clear pre-nuptial lubricant. I savor it for the fervor of the
moment. All my senses are playing a part in this.
Cathy is going wild on my manhood now; attempting to me whole,
if possible. She no longer travels the entire length of my cock,
instead leaving the furthest down she's gotten in her throat, relaxing
her lips, her tongue lying flat and quiet. Saliva drips and slides from
her mouth as she makes small up and down jabbing motions with her head,
my cock-head bending slightly as it rounds the downward turn in her
throat at the base of her tongue. I can feel the barrier each time my
cock softly runs into her glottal muscle, partially open and forced
more each time she slightly withdraws an eighth inch and forward a
quarter.
I place my other hand atop her head, reinforcing and adding my own
desired thrust up with my cock. Finally I feel her throat muscle relax
and with a vicious upward thrust with my cock and a violent downward
push of her head, her lips slam and mash into the hairs at the base of
my dick. Her lips nibble and to the loose skin of my scrotum...
as if she wants to suck my balls up into her mouth as well.
She tightens her lips and mouth, starting a sideways sweeping motion
with her flattened tongue. The smooth muscle lining the esophagus has
started its own milking action, trying to the head of my cock
protruding through the glottis. I can feel every action from Candy's
voluntary in her mouth to the heavenly automatic milking in her
throat. I feel the full feeling spreading like acid up the tube of my
cock. My dick begins to throb in her mouth, so tightly and irrevocably
locked onto me.
I pull my thumb free of her and jab my tongue into her as
far as it will go during a relaxation of the spasms; only to be locked
onto as her vaginal muscles begin their rhythmic contractions around
the tip of my tongue. I'm barely able to breathe, my nose is squashed
against her buttocks. I play my fingers in fast motion across her clit
as first one wave, and then another crest over my tongue, being torn
out by the roots.
I can't stand it so I begin rapid and violent thrusting motions with my
hips raising them fast and hard her facet only to have her head, locked
in place and milking away, bob up and down with my thrust.
"My God. I'm coming! Suck me, baby. Suck me dry, uh!!!", I shudder
between clenched teeth as a hot and full load of semen explodes free,
burning the length of the shaft as it spurts upward. "Take all of me,
every last fucking drop baby!!!".
With each ecstatic spurt, I feel her tongue draw backward to
accommodate her drinking reflex, throat muscle doubling the rate of
milking. One spurt, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine,
ten, eleven, twelve electric jolts; and each a complete tube emptying.
Finally the jetting ends and I relax my death's grip in her jet black
hair allowing my cock-head to slip free of her esophagus. Her tongue is
slippery and slick with my semen as she begins a gentle milking action,
the tip of her tongue running up the underside to milk every last drop
from my relaxed penis and down her throat.
I feel myself going soft in her mouth, her bruised lips still
the last drops of from my cock. I drop back exhausted as she rolls
off me.
My face is covered with her sticky love juices drying masque-like,
immobilizing the skin. My eyes itch from intrusions of alkaline juices
smelling for all the world as if I were still between her legs
away.
I have only to run my tongue through my mustache to relive the tense
arousal of the last half hour.
Candy is grinning widely at me, a drool of semen marring her pixie
features from lips to chin. She reaches down and pulls draped slacks
from her ankles then removes her sweat-socks.
"Let's go at it again", she says, helping me to remove the rest of my
clothes, discarding them carelessly to the side; then taking my soft
cock gain into her mouth, slowly rolling her tongue in a massage
designed to cleanse it of and work it to hardness again.
At first, her tongue-work is just an irritant to my sensitive and sated
cock; but Candy keeps up the tongue massage and adds a rolling
vacuum that soon has me feeling renewed desire and I feel myself
growing behind her teeth again. After five or six minutes of her tender
ministrations I am rock-hard and ready to go again, but Candy stops her
work at this point and straddles me, lowering her directly atop
my cock.
Ever so slowly she allows me to enter her, controlling her down
movements alternating with small up jabs to spread the lubrication and
accommodate my throbbing dick. The warmth of her is almost
enough to send me off; but I control my impulses and concentrate on the
ceiling.
When I'm buried to the hilt, Candy tucks her feet behind her and hands
upon my chest starts a rhythmic up and down crescendo of slow, sliding,
and sensuous fucks that hold me just at the borderline as I feel the
texture inside her with my cock. Up... Down... Up... Down. My cock is
wet with her juices and is frigid cold when she is up, only the head in
the firebox. Every time she descends she sends shivers through me as
cold dick and hot co-mingle.
Her juices run through my forest and over my balls, cooling in the
night air. The evaporation causes my sac to tighten and pull my balls
in close; and the juices continue, flowing across the peritoneum and
across my asshole and onto the slick plastic of the bean bag.
Her is not so tight now; fully oiled. I feel a bead of work
it’s way towards the tip, tingling and stinging a little as a prelude
to what will soon happen. My prostate cannot long hold back this
pressure building.
I deposit this lone drop of on her cervix as I bump into it on one
of her down strokes.
Hands on her hips, I guide her more forcibly onto my cock; deeper and
faster pushing against her cervix until she stretches the length to
give me a bottomless pit to drive into.
Candy picks up the increasing tempo her vaginal muscles twitching now
and then to grasp my cock and momentarily stop its' flight.
Abruptly, Candy stops, tightened around my almost jetting cock.
My climax is stopped midstream!
I'm buried to the hilt between her hips trying to grind in and find
release. I feel a mini-climax as I spasm lightly into her in empty
throbs; feeling the pleasure of coming; but not letting loose my load
and staying constantly hard.
"Feel good, Larry?" she asks all too knowingly. She has read me like a
book and knows when to cut-off or slow down stimulation.
As I nod my head in agreement, she draws her knees, at my sides, closer
together, raising her a little off my pelvis. With one hand, she
reaches behind her and grasps my sac, fondling my balls roughly. Her
other hand goes to the base of my cock and fingers pinch the urethra
tightly closed.
This quickly dampens my climax but keeps me hard inside her. Up and
down her goes.
Her vaginal muscles tighten clamp-like around my cock each time she
withdraws, milking my penis. I come full-blown only to throb against
her finger cutting off exit at the bottom of my cock.
Nowhere to go, it resides and we work it up again. I must have release,
but each time I come, she cuts it off and continues the thrusting.
My cock is painful; sore from rubbing in a tight pussy, squeezed at the
base.
Again I and she clamps her fingers at the base but I cannot be
denied. I feel a full-blown climax and feel the jetting and
pulsation’s; but I also feel a sharp pain inside me and I realize that
I have inside myself. I have shunted the semen up my urethra and
into my bladder. Candy's pressure on my cock has kept it hard and
thought I am sated I continue to thrust into her as I feel her build
towards a massive climax.
Candy has abandoned all finesse now and slams her hard and fast
onto my pole in earnest desire. I slam upwards with each down stroke
and her clamps hard around my sore cock as she begins a rhythmic
shudder and collapses atop me.
We lay there like this for some time, cuddling each other and kissing
deeply, my half-limp cock inside her spread legs.
We roll over so that I am on top and tongues still entwined, I slow-
fuck her in a loving fashion designed to be felt with the romantic
senses and prolonged. I am hard again but feel no immediacy to ram
inside her; rather I feel like I'd like to prolong this all night.
Candy responds by sensuously rolling her hips into mine.
My hands roam her body feeling the texture and goose-bumps of her skin
in the night air. I lift my chest to cup her and massage them ever
so slowly as her tongue digs deeper into my mouth. I taste her saliva
and we share our juices. Our tongues fuck each others throats, dancing
tip-to-tip.
Candy wraps her legs around my torso, hooking ankles together. In and
out like a slow, hot knife into butter. My cock is battered and bruised
but is still up to the renewed sensations of a slow fuck; the tension
of coming there, but the ability to hold it back and ride the crest
much as a surfer rides the crest of a large wave. I do not want to come
crashing down just yet.
"Does it feel good, Candy?"
"Oh, God...yes!" she says. "I want to keep this up forever."
"Me too. I've felt like coming a hundred times. No one told me going
slowly could be like this... Uh... Uh... Jesus! it feels so nice inside
you! I want to come." I pant into her ear.
Just then, the phone rings. God, what an incessant distraction. Candy
is startled and contracts her vagina. I lose all control and begin to
spasm into her, spurting hot as I bury my cock deep into her
convulsing pussy. Candy scrapes her fingers across my back as she bucks
into me taking all of my cock and more.
We lay silently, panting heavy and exhausted while the phone continues
to ring in the background.
Finally, laughing together she reaches for the phone on the table
beside us, our bodies still locked together. I listen to her trying to
catch her breath and answer the phone at the same time.
"Hello"
"Oh, hi...No, I wasn't doing anything special. Just watching TV...
"No. I had to run from the kitchen. I'm alright...
"I'd rather not, Lisa. I've got company...
"Come on. What's wrong?...
"Okay. You can come over...Ya. I'm sorry to hear that too. Come on over
and we'll talk. Larry's here...
"Okay and I'll see you in awhile...Bye." and she replaced the handset.
"I'm sorry, Larry. I do want to be alone with you. That was Lisa and
she's got some problems she wants to talk about...I guess our fun is
over for the night."
"Okay sweets. Let's get presentable and straighten up this place before
she arrives. What time is it?"
"About four AM. Where's my panties?"
"Over there...beside the wine bottle." I give her a quick peck on the
lips and start pulling on my clothes.
Lisa is a pert little girl; a sophomore at Denver. I'd seen her at
school but paid scant attention other than fleeting appraisals of her
sexy lines. Candy knew her well and they often were seen talking
together.
We had turned on the on to support our contention of our activities
and had just about covered all other tracks of our loving when the
doorbell rang.
It was Lisa, all bundled up against the cold night. Candy let her in
and I noticed that she wobbled at little unsteadily. Under that bulky
coat she was clad in a stunning mini-dress that emphasized her shapely
legs and thighs and cut low across the bodice (giving ample evidence
of her swelling cleavage) that this was not a girl, but a growing
woman.
Candy navigated her to the couch and plopped her down on it. Lisa
landed with a bounce and settled back, legs separated. I could see
hints of her from my vantage on the bean-bag on the floor in
front of her. I absently rubbed my cock through my pants in sexual
desire.
Lisa noticed me a moment later and said "Hi, Larry", as if I were part
of the furniture.
She was preoccupied with a problem, so I said hello and leaned back to
watch an insane about werewolves on channel 13.
Watching from the position I was in was difficult because of the
angle, so I slowly edged my way over towards the sofa, resting my back
against it, still sitting on the floor besides Lisa's legs. Candy came
over and sat down next to me and I draped my arm over her shoulders.
Lisa's legs vibrated a warmth I could feel against my arm and shoulder,
and I sneaked glances at them.
After awhile, Candy rolled another joint, lit it, and passed it around.
I took a heavy toke and turned around between Lisa's legs, one hand on
a knee and offered her the joint. She took it and greedily, then
passed it back while I stared hungrily up her short dress.
We finished off two more joints and Candy turned the record player back
on. The was still on and we where getting the giggles, providing
dialogue to the antics of the silent screen. Lisa slid off the sofa
into a sitting position beside me, in the process, accidentally hiking
her already short skirt past her crotch.
I lit another joint and offered Candy the first drag but she was in
blissville against my shoulder, so I turned to Lisa. While she was
pulling on the joint and holding her breath, I traced my fingernails up
and down the insides of her thighs. Ohhh, my cock was beginning to
tingle again.
She looked at me impishly and slightly parted her thighs to give me
some more room. Emboldened, I ran my palm up her thighs and cupped her
panties crotch. I could feel the heat and dampness of her womanhood as
I rubbed trying to slip a finger under the elastic and into her pussy.
After a laid back moment, Lisa removed my hand to lower down her thigh,
near the knees.
The shifting awoke Candy. "How long have I been asleep?" she asked.
"Only a few minutes", I said. "Let's play a game or something."
"Okay", said Candy. "How about poker? I've got a deck of cards around
here somewhere." and she goes off to find them, returning a moment
later with a battered deck.
"I've seen you around school", says Lisa as we spread out in a circle
on the carpet. "I didn't know you knew Candy."
"We've been seeing each other for a few months now."
"Yah, Larry and I are in the Folk Dancers together. That's where we
met", says Candy. "He's real nice...sexy", she says with a
conspiratorial wink at Lisa.
"You're not too bad, either" I retort back at Candy. "For that matter,
you have good-looking girlfriends, Candy. I like Lisa!" I said,
admiring Lisa's female form from the short distance separating us.
"Behave yourself, you chauvinistic pig. You've had enough for one
night"
"Enough what, Candy. Lisa interrupted the best part."
Lisa is silent throughout this exchange but she is embarrassed and
fidgeting beside us. I busy myself rolling a few more joints, lighting
one and passing it to Lisa. Pretty soon we are all feeling good and
giggling away, not really paying much attention to the poker game.
I pour some more wine and pass it to Candy and Lisa snatching a
lingering kiss off of Lisa's lips as my free hand runs up her thigh.
"Let's have some fun. Okay?", I say to the air around us.
The are all for it and soon we are into a rip-roaring game of
strip poker. Since I cannot keep my attention under the weed's
influence and these sexy women, I am not doing too well at this game
and am soon down to only my briefs left. The aren't doing too
well either. Candy has her bra and left on and Lisa is down to
her silken panties; her small firm titties jutting firmly into the
smoke-filled room.
We are having fun though, giggling and pawing each other. I am hard and
wanting some action. My dick is hard and tent-like under my briefs and
I play with it through the sweaty cloth.
"Let's make the game more daring", volunteers Candy. "How about if the
winner of each hand gets to tell the losers what to do and they have to
do it. Okay?"
"Anything?" asks Lisa in mild shock though I don't know why because we
all are pretty well brazen and sinful right now.
"Sure! Anything the winner wants the other two to do...just as long as
it's not dangerous or sick. Okay Larry?"
"I agree. It'll make it more interesting and fun... We are having fun,
aren't we?"
No one really answers this question so to get things started I pull my
briefs off and toss them into the corner. My pole sticks ramrod
straight up and I slowly jerk it up and down reveling in the tingly
feeling. "Come on girls, off with the rest of your clothes and start
out on even ground with me... Come on Lisa. Don't be embarrassed. Hell,
you're half naked now and after all, you are among friends. What ever
happens between us tonight is after all among friends. Let your
inhibitions go and just enjoy your feelings. Be natural."
Lisa slowly peels her over her hips and down, finally tossing
them aside as she tightly clamps her legs together in mild shyness. We
begin the game.
The first hand dealt I received a pair of fours and discarded two for
two more useless cards. Lisa won with a pair off nines and could barely
contain herself in glee and relief.
"Come on Lisa. What do you want us to do."
"Well. I don't know...Anything, right?...Larry, kiss Candy first and
then me. A real deep down and passionate kiss with your hands behind
your back."
Now this was more like it. Not exactly what I had in mind, but a start.
I move over to Candy.
"Come on lover. I'm waiting," says Candy as our lips meet and my tongue
probes deep.
After an interminable amount of time Lisa slaps me on the rear end and
says, "Uh uh, Larry. My turn now."
I scoot over beside Lisa and kiss her deeply, my arms embracing her.
Lisa breaks and tells me to put my hands behind my back and I do so.
The kiss is deep, our tongues fighting each other for domination. All
of a sudden, Lisa's hand is upon my cock, gripping it tightly and
pumping up and down. Each time I attempt to bring my arms around front
she firmly pushes them back behind my back.
I lean forward against her and she tumbles backward with me atop her
naked form. Our lips are still mashed against each other and she loses
her grip on my dick. God I need her.
With my legs, I force hers apart and wheedle my cock up against the
opening of her and with one savage thrust enter her. I start a
gentle yet full thrusting into her love box.
Just as I feel the juices start to build up for eruption, Candy’s
fingers grab my balls and twist painfully. "No you don't lover. You
were just told to kiss her. Now out and back to your corner." Candy
keeps the pressure on my sac until I pull all the way out and away. My
cock is aching for love. All Lisa can do as she sits up is moan.
The next hand has me with a pair of queens, ace high. I discard the
other two cards and come up with another queen and when we show our
cards I'm the winner.
I chuckle to myself as I decide what punishment these two deserve
for stopping me twice tonight. A devious and sexy plan evolves...
"Since you two are close friends I want you to make love before me."
"No. Come on Larry", say Candy. "You can't be serious!" she says in
astonishment.
Lisa doesn't look to happy either though her head is hung low.
"I hear it happens all the time between close girlfriends; meeting at
slumber parties to dive between each others legs and lick each other up
a frenzy."
"You've done it before, haven't you Lisa?" I ask point blank.
She doesn't answer so I continue, "You agreed to do whatever the
winner wanted and I want to watch the two of you do it. Please!" I look
first with dejected eyes from Lisa to Candy acting like an innocent
little in front of his momma.
A few more pleases and more cajoling and Lisa starts to move towards
Candy as I move over to kiss Candy to take her mind off what is to
happen.
Lisa starts by lightly kissing her way along Candy's thighs; light
tracery along the insides. I can feel Candy respond in my arms so I
break loose and sit back to watch the two of them, idly playing with
myself.
Candy is laying back on her elbows, legs straight out in front of her
and parted with Lisa's head moving closer and closer to Candy's pussy.
Her head is back, eyes closed and mouth open, her chest and titties
rising in slow ragged heaves.
When Lisa's tongue finds her wet and starts running around in
wide circles around the inside of her lips, Candy pulls her knees
up and leans back more.
Lisa's rump is high into the air and all the more exciting, the patch
of lightly browned and bristly mounding softly out between her
legs. I crawl on my knees behind her and kiss her closed lips,
running the tip of my tongue up and down the soft cleft. She tastes
good; not as aromatic as Candy-- milder.
Standing up behind with my hard cock horizontal in front of me I guide
it into her love-box; slowly at first to loosen the oils and then more
forcibly to get further into her hot furnace.
Candy groans under Lisa's tongue-lashing and Lisa presents more of
herself to me. I watch in sexual fever as my cock glides in and out of
her-- the indentation made as I push in and the clinging lips holding
my dick tight as I pull out for another warming session.
I go slow to enjoy this feeling of a tight pussy, never loosening up;
almost virgin. When I think of her possible virginity I almost come
while halfway out of her so I stop for a moment to compose myself and
get under control; then start with fresh vigor.
Lisa's sticks to my cock like glue, squeezing tight, even when I
get my full length into her and am pounding up against her cervix.
Candy is laid all the way back now, a leg hooked over Lisa's neck and
her hands in Lisa's hair guiding her to her secret places and muttering
urgings to her. Lisa is rapidly flicking her tongue back and forth over
the tip of Candy's clit, trying to keep her position over Candy as my
ramming rocks her body back and forth on her knees.
I squeeze Lisa's firm and ample buttocks cheeks together around my cock
elongating the tunnel I have available to slide my cock in and out of
and I pound the entire length of it, the cool skin of her ass soothing
the raw and hot skin of my pole before it enters Lisa's firebox again.
Just then Candy goes rigid under Lisa's ministrations, her pubic mound
arched high in the air while she grabs great ragged breaths of air
between sobs of passion. I ram in fast and deep and let loose inside of
Lisa's love-box and as I feel the last of the squirt out the tip,
pullout and scamper around the Candy's head and allow her to suck on my
softening and sticky cock.
We roll over with Candy's lips atop my prong licking away and Lisa
crawls over to join us. I help her by directing her head down between
my legs where she swallows my balls one by one and gives them a
delicious licking. I manage to contort myself enough to get my head
between Lisa's thighs and get a taste of her sweet commingled
with my sticky still oozing out the hole.
I've too many times already tonight and at most all I can manage is
a semi-hardness but the do me the honor of slowly keeping up
their of the remainder of the night as I alternated between
pussies eating one while finger-twiddling the other.
When I awoke the next morning we were still in this position with my
soft cock partially in Lisa's pert lips and dried out crackling
along its' shaft and hardened glue like along her cheeks. I didn't stir
from the comfortable position I was in for the better part of the
morning until a craving to take a forced me the extricate myself
and get up.
By the time I returned, still naked and sticky, the had some
semblance of a breakfast ready with some hot coffee which I solely
needed. It was only after a long hot shower together that we got
dressed and said our good-byes.
Candy and I dated and got together at her place a few more times on a
steady basis but as school ended and I took summer employment in a
logging camp on Vancouver Island, we drifted apart and she fell back in
with the Scientologists. When I returned for my Senior year, she was
long gone with a cold trail.
Lisa and I never mentioned that night again, though I saw her in school
every day and even dated her a couple of times. Our dates were proper
with just the right amount of groping and exploring but never like this
night had ever happened. She didn't want to talk about it and I didn't
bring it up in deference to her wishes.