Beware the Roasburies!
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2016 by Always Raining

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Coincidences and the actions of the malevolent Roasburie family conspired to plague Graham Proctor's love life, beginning with virginal Penelope Roasburie and his attempt to woo her, in which he was successful - well almost... Eventually he began to wonder if he would ever be free of them, and in one way he never was. The tale is VERY long (novel size), and slow moving. Though told in the first person, it is fictional and bears no relation to anyone living or dead.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Reluctant   Heterosexual   Fiction   Cheating   First   Oral Sex   Petting   Slow  

Friday 21st and Saturday 22nd March 1969

She liked my flat; it being her first visit. As before she changed in the bathroom and joined me in bed. There was a second bedroom, but she showed no interest in it.

She was wearing a full length high necked thin cotton nightdress. I had kept my briefs on. When my hands roamed as we kissed, I realised she had taken her bra off, though her full briefs were still in evidence. I took this as an invitation and caressed her breasts over the nightie. She sighed and moaned but stiffened when my hands went down to go beneath the garment. I stopped.

She whispered “Thanks,” and snuggled closer to press herself against me and my erection.

I pressed it against her, and she pushed her breasts against me.

“Penny this isn’t fair,” I said. “When are you going to trust me?”

She pulled back with a start.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and after a pause, sat up, pulled the nightdress over her head and threw it aside, then burrowed down again into my arms. “You can touch them if you want.”

Not immediately, I thought. She was now naked from the waist up, and wearing full flowery pattern briefs below. She lay down on her back.

It was her waist I went for first, stroking her sides and back while nuzzling then kissing her neck. Then I gave some attention to her stomach, lightly caressing it all over and dipping into her navel. She began to breathe heavily and to move her hips languidly.

She sighed, she moaned, and I took this as the signal to accept her invitation, and kissed down to the tops of her swelling breasts, kissing and gently nipping all around her nipples. Now she began to writhe, moving her chest to get my mouth on her tits. Her hands went to my head as she tried to guide me. She was out of control.

I licked the right, drew a palm over the left, and she squeaked. I continued the treatment and got an ‘Oh’, and then a groaning ‘Yes!’. I kissed down and applied some oral love to her navel, when she giggled and gasped, pulling my head up for a kiss.

Her kiss was intense, open mouthed. My hand drifted to her thigh and traced up the inner surface, but moved along the crease of her groin, avoiding her sex. She was rubbing her tit against my chest and seemed at ease with my attention down below. The third time my fingers made the journey the track was over the centre gusset of her knickers.

She stiffened.

“Be a bit adventurous,” I whispered. “You’ll like it. Please?”

She relaxed and lay back. I pulled at her briefs and she raised her bottom to help me pull them off. Then I played with her sex, tracing over her inner lips and grazing her clitoris. She jerked.

“Graham! What are you doing?”

“Ssh! Relax. You know what I’m doing.”

“I don’t. Ooh! Aah! I don’t know...”

It hit me then. She had never even masturbated! I was amazed, for I thought everyone had experimented with themselves. I continued a lazy stroking with one hand while caressing her breast with the other, while she lay stiff and wondering. Her hand had ceased to rove over my back, head and neck as she began to get lost in the feelings my hands were giving her, and began to move and sigh.

“You mean you’ve never... ?”

“Never wha-a-a-t?” She was breathing hard. “What’s happening to me? O-o-h!”

“Sweetheart, just let me ... Just let it happen. It’ll be good, I promise.”

She relaxed for a second, then tensed, this time in response to her rising libido. I rubbed her, circling her little nubbin. Then with a cry she stiffened, and bucked. Her eyes screwed shut than opened as wide as her mouth as she was taken by the spasms.

“Ahh! Ugh! Gerr! Mm!” Her range of non-verbal expletives was impressive, bearing testimony to the intensity of the experience. I felt smug.

I played gently with her private parts as she slowly came down and rejoined the human race.

“Is that... ? Was that... ? They said the earth moved ... That was just ... Oh!”

Then she giggled. “Oh, Graham, that was ... different!”

“Told you,” I replied.

“Mm, I never felt anything so good!”

“That was your first ever?”

“Yes, it never occurred to me. I never felt the need.”

It was a surprise to me. From later research it seems that there are many women who basically aren’t all that sexual, and while enjoying sex immensely when it happens, never feel a driving need to get off on their own or search for someone else to do it for them. Penny, it seemed, was one of these.

My prick was still standing hard, begging for attention. I nudged her side with it and she looked at me questioningly. Then lifted the quilt and looked at bulge in my briefs. Then at me again. It was obvious she didn’t have a clue what to do.

I slid my underpants down and freed my cock, she lifted the quilt again and her eyes went wide. It was obvious this was another first for her. Today that would be surprising, but then there was no internet porn, and women’s magazines were not at all explicit; Cosmopolitan Magazine was still six years away.

She looked at me with a ‘help me’ expression.

I took her hand and led it to my prick, wrapping her fingers round it and then moving her hand up and down the shaft. I let go and she continued to rub me.

“Is this right?” she asked eventually.

“Oh, yes!” I said as my excitement rose.

I took her hand again and led it between my legs, placing it against the crease of my bottom, then pulled upwards over my perineum, groaning as I did so. Then as we reached my balls I let go and she held them before fondling them. She stifled a giggle.

I have to say she was a quick learner. She wasn’t totally ignorant about sex; after all, Patricia’s and George’s activities in an adjacent bed were surely educational. She said later that even though they confined their activities under the bedclothes, the movements of Patricia’s hands and George’s backside moving up and down under the covers indicated clearly enough what was going on.

She returned to stroking my cock up and down.

“Am I doing this right?” she asked.

“Mm,” I replied. It was bliss. Then her other hand went to my anus and pressed. That surprised me. She traced over my perineum and pressed a little.

I moaned, “Oh, Penny, that’s good!”

She giggled and repeated the exercise, all the while wanking my prick.

“Oh that’s so good! Keep doing that!” I was begging, and getting close. She speeded up, pressing up between my legs.

“I’m getting close!” I warned, as she was crouched over my stomach, her head under the covers.

“Mm?” she asked. Too late. I erupted. She was so surprised at the splash of semen that hit her cheek that she stopped stroking.

“Don’t Stop!” I cried. “Please!”

To her credit she began again but kept clear as I sent two or three more spurts over my stomach and chest, and catching her arm.

I had been rigid during my orgasm, and now fell back.

“Oh,” I gasped, and she stopped, “Penny, that was great. You are wonderful.”

“So that’s what you put inside a woman,” she said, “sort of milky and a bit messy!” and she giggled again. Then got out of bed and ran to the bathroom to clean up, while I wiped myself dry with some loo roll I had by the bed. Why else would a single man have a roll of loo paper by his bed?

She ran back into the room and dived into bed, wrapping herself round me.

“Was that OK?” she asked, not really needing an answer.

“Pretty good for a first attempt,” I tried, and got a punch for my pains.

“OK,” I compromised. “It was bloody marvellous.”

“That’s better,” she said complacently, snuggling into my side, her head on my shoulder.

Nothing more was said, for we both fell asleep until the morning, by which time we were back to back. I know I was supposed to be spooned up against her, my erection pressing into the crease of her backside, but it simply did not happen like that. Neither did I have an erection that morning, so spooning would have been a waste of time.

In fact, from what happened next, spooning would not have gone down well.

I rolled out of bed, naked, went to the kitchen and made tea, taking it back to the bedroom for Penny. The bed was empty, and when she appeared out of the bathroom, she was fully dressed. She looked unhappy, resentful.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, genuinely puzzled.

“Last night,” she said.

“Yes?”

“You knew my views on sex and you took advantage of me. You knew I didn’t want to go that far and you went ahead and did it anyway.”

“Hang on!” I protested. “We’ve been a couple for four months, and exclusively at that. I got the impression you were committed to me in some sense, and I’m certainly committed to you.”

“You’ve been after me the whole time. You’ve been wearing me down, and last night you got your wish.”

I was staggered. My memory of the previous night was not of a woman who was resisting or even reluctant in any way. Puzzled, yes, but not reluctant. In fact I’m sure I detected a certain curiosity once she got going!

“Look,” I said, somewhat conscious that I was naked while she was fully dressed. Somehow It felt as if it weakened my argument. “Take your tea and go sit down in the kitchen while I dress, then we can talk.”

“If you think you can talk me round, you’re wrong. It was wrong what you did last night, and you can’t wriggle out of it.”

I was getting annoyed. “Go to the living room or the kitchen and I’ll get dressed.”

She turned and left. I washed, shaved and dressed, and on emerging went in search of her. I looked into the living room then the kitchen, and realised at last she had gone. I was completely at a loss. Her picture of the night before was completely different from mine, and her reaction extreme.

I had breakfast and it gave me time to start to feel unjustly treated and as a result angry. I got in the car and went to her flat. I rang their bell once at the front door and waited. At length I heard the clattering on the stairs and the door opened to reveal Patricia, pretty in tight jeans and tight sexy tee shirt. She did tight well.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said with a certain distain.

“Yes, it’s me,” I replied, “and I’m not happy.”

“Well, neither is she. You fucked her after seducing her. You know she didn’t want that. She was keeping her virginity for marriage.”

“Hey, Patty, hang about! She told you that?”

“She said you had sex. What else does that mean?’

“In her case, me getting her off by hand, and she wanking me off.”

“You mean?” she stuttered. “That’s all? No blow jobs? You did her first?”

“Of course, then she wanted to do me, so I showed her how. She clearly enjoyed doing it – she kept me on edge and giggled about it, shoved a finger in my arse, played with my balls. She was fine with all that last night, went to sleep in my arms. This morning she had a guilt trip and put all the blame on me, then ran off before we could talk about it.”

She looked at me with disbelief. “You’re joshing me! That all? And she went without talking to you. Silly cow!”

She stopped and thought. Then, “Look Graham, go home. I’ll talk with her. Can’t promise she’ll come round, but personally, if you were going out with me, I wouldn’t let you go so easily. You’re one of the good ones.” She looked wistful, “Got her off first, hmm!”

That felt good, coming from an experienced woman (five years younger than me).

I went. I needed to do the weekly shop and then clean the flat. Shortly after I finished my chores, the doorbell rang. I opened the door. There stood Penny. She did not look happy, but it was difficult to read her. I stood back and she walked in, and went to the living room, where she sat down, upright, on the sofa.

“I had a long talk with Patty, so I’m here to listen to your apology.”

“Then you’ll be here a long time, ‘cause I’m not giving you one.” (That was true in more senses than one).

She looked disconcerted. “But Patty said you came to apologise.”

“Did she really?”

“Well, she said you’d come to talk, but I assumed–”

“You assumed wrong. I’m prepared to talk. In fact I want to talk with you. But apologise? What for?”

“For taking advantage of me.”

“I didn’t. You wanted it.”

“I did not!”

I was getting frustrated with her attitude, but kept my cool.

“Penny, you asked to come home with me, you ignored the second bedroom, you took off your bra for the first time before getting into bed, you pressed your braless tits against me and pressed yourself against my cock.”

There was a look of surprise at my earthy language, but I continued.

“When I showed my frustration you took off your nightdress and invited me to play with your tits. You invited me! You french kissed me urgently. When I took my hand to your thigh and up to your groin, you moaned and did not stop me. You wanted me, OK?”

“I never wanted to–”

“I touched your sex and you stopped, but I told you I’d give you a good time, and you lifted your bum to help me get your knickers off. After that you wondered what was happening to you, but you never gave any indication you wanted me to stop, quite the reverse, you were trying to get me to touch you where you wanted. You had an orgasm and afterwards said you’d never felt so good.

“Then you wanted to know how to get me off, and you enjoyed playing with my prick and you even played games making me wait; you stuck a finger up my arse, for god’s sake!

“After you cleaned up you snuggled with me and fell asleep in my arms. You had fun, you enjoyed it all. I don’t understand what your problem is. You. Did. Not. Have. Sex.”

The experience was vivid in my mind (I did say I have a photographic memory, didn’t I?), and I think she was amazed at the accuracy of my account and it silenced her for a minute or two. Her features softened and she looked thoughtful.

“You’re right, of course. I got carried away.”

I was impressed. She was reasonable, she was prepared to listen and accept another’s point of view. I warmed to her even more than before. I knew then with even greater certainty that I wanted Penny ‘till death did us part’.

“But you knew that I want to keep sex for a committed relationship,” she said, now looking to me for an answer or some justification now she was open to me.

“We met. We found we liked each other and we kissed. Short kiss. The beginning of a relationship. Eh?” I raised an eyebrow inviting agreement (Roger Moore eat your heart out!).

She nodded.

“After Christmas you invited me to stay – in your bed. We kissed and cuddled. I took it our relationship had taken a step further. Do you agree?”

Again a nod.

“Since then we have done more intimate things. Deeper kisses, french kisses, stroking further. For me the actions reflected a still deeper relationship. I told you how much I wanted you for good.

“OK, you weren’t sure you felt the same, but you were sensuous in the extreme every time I said it. Again it seemed to me that your behaviour reflected the fact our relationship had deepened.”

“But we never had sex before.”

“We didn’t have sex last night either. It was another step, but only a step. All your signals last night told me you wanted more than before. Mind you I didn’t know that you didn’t know what the ‘more’ was like!”

She laughed. For the first time, she laughed that lovely light laugh. “I never knew...”

“No you didn’t,” I laughed in my turn, “but I love you and I wanted to show you how much by giving you pleasure. I wanted to get even closer to you. It wasn’t full sex, in fact there’s a lot more we could do that is even more intimate and still isn’t full sex: your vagina is still untouched. What we did last night was an expression of our love.

“I wanted to give you pleasure, make you happy, and afterwards you wanted to do the same for me. You were showing your love. I’m sure that was what it was. Mind you, it also expressed desire, nothing wrong with that. I do want you, but I’ll wait until you’re ready to commit to me properly as well.”

“But I’ve always thought that sex needs full commitment. Marriage.”

“Full sex. Penetration. I think when people get that far they need to know exactly what each other thinks it’s about. I agree it’s much too important to treat it casually, but there’s a huge range of relationships between ‘casual friend’ and being married. If you feel both feel comfortable there’s a range of things you can do to show your love, short of full sex.”

I waited for a reaction.

“So what the Bible says...”

“Needs to be interpreted according to its own central principles. Love God and love your neighbour as yourself. It sums up all the other rules and regulations.”

This time she sat still and thought.

“You’re the first guy I’ve been in a real relationship with, you know. I’ve never allowed boys to take any liberties, so these issues haven’t come up. I need to think. Do you mind?”

“Of course I don’t mind.”

She stood, and I stood. She came to me, put her hands on my shoulders and kissed me gently and with what I thought was real love. Then she turned and left.

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