Chapter 2: Saturday Morning

“Dave, could you lick my pussy again, like you did last night?’

This was the very first thing I heard when I awakened Saturday morning.

Okay, so we had officially dropped any pretense that these were “kisses.” Well, she wasn’t the first woman – or girl – to get her pussy licked and decide that she really, really liked it, and she certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“I’d love to.”

And I would. I loved the thought of making this sweet girl feel good – of causing her pleasure and making her happy. The thing is, she knew this.

This time, Jen had positioned herself so she was leaning back against the headboard, with her knees up and her legs spread to make it easy for me to get all the way between them. I rolled over onto my stomach and crawled in between those long, straight, conveniently-splayed legs and began kissing – actual kisses – the lips of her pussy. Then, as I used my thumbs and fingers to spread open those lips so my tongue could reach the soft coral-pink flesh inside, Jen said, “I like it this way. Now I can see you while you lick me.”

This time, Jen knew what was coming, and what she liked, and she felt confident enough to move around, and to make noises, and when to hold my head pressed against her, and when to release and let my lips and my tongue roam around her parts. Then she seemed to discover a rhythm that was natural to her, and she moved her hips up and down against my lips. At first, the sounds she made were languorous, satisfied “Mmmmh” and “Hmmm...” sounds, but as her climax got closer, the began to change to “Unnnh”s that were higher and more desperate. Until finally, she pressed my face into her pussy and bucked her hips against me and cried out.

Then, her body relaxed and I heard her breathing – panting, actually. Also, I noticed that my mouth and face were wet with something. It wasn’t the pee of our earlier, bathroom session. Instead, my darling Jen’s 14-year-old pussy was juicing with natural lubrication. I was proud of her. Also, proud of me and my apparent ability to please the lady.

“Oh, Dave, that was wonderful. Can we just lay her like this and enjoy everything?”

“Certainly, my darling.”

My darling?

“Dave.”

“Yes.”

Hesitantly, “Dave, would it be OK if I licked you the way that you lick me?”

“If you’d like to do that, yes, I’d like it very much. Maybe later today. But right now, let’s get some breakfast!”

Jen beat me to the punch and bounded out of bed and into the bathroom. After she had apparently finished washing and peeing and brushing her teeth and combing out her hair, I went in and peed and washed and brushed – and something I would not have done on an “ordinary” Saturday morning – I had a quick shave. I guess now I have social obligations.

Before I dressed, I opened the blinds a bit and looked out. It looked like it had snowed most of the night, and there was over a foot of snow on the ground. The Town had apparently plowed once, because the street had just a little less snow – eight inches, maybe. It wasn’t snowing now, but the weather report last night said that it was expected to resume late in the morning, and they didn’t know how long it would last. It looked like we were going to be snowed in for at least several days.

Which meant that Jen would be here, with me, for several more days.

When I got some sweats on, I went out to the kitchen. There I found Jen, wearing the socks I had given her and the long sleep t-shirt that she had discarded when she got into bed with me last night. Apparently not warm enough, she’d also put on my old robe, turning up the sleeves so they wouldn’t get in her way while she was cooking.

She was fishing through my pot drawer until she found a large frying pan. She already had eggs, bread, milk, and butter out on the counter. “I’m sorry – I don’t know how to make coffee – Mom usually makes it when she gets up, so I never learned. How do you like your eggs?”

“I don’t know – do you have a specialty?”

“Scrambled – soft.”

“Sounds perfect. And I’ll make toast and start the coffee. I’m glad you at least left something for me to do!”

“Dork! Make your coffee. And don’t start the toast yet or it’ll be cold by the time the eggs are done. I’ll tell you when it’s time.”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

And without my really realizing it, my own kitchen, in my own house, had been taken over from me by a mere child of 14.

The coffee was dripping in the carafe, the toast was toasting, and I poured two glasses of orange juice for us.

The eggs were perfection. They were as good or better than any I had ever made on my best day. And it was fun to have a breakfast companion. One who was bright and cheerful (perhaps part of that cheer being the result of some satisfying wakeup sex) and also, in the t-shirt and socks, with her legs peeking out, cute as the dickens. At this moment, life felt very good, indeed.

And we talked about what we would do today. But first, we had to get Jen out of my old robe that she was wearing. She had managed to cook and serve a perfect breakfast without tripping on the hem of the robe or catching the sleeves on fire over the stove. So I asked,

“Jen, what do you plan on wearing today?”

“Well, I don’t want to wear my school clothes – I want to save them for school Monday, if there is any. Besides, they’re not very comfortable for around the house.”

“So, what would you wear if you were at your own house?”

“Probably tights and some kind of pullover.”

The word “tights” triggered a recollection. Of course, I didn’t keep pairs of girls’ tight lying around the house, just on the off-chance that ... But I remembered that I did have a pair of skiing underwear that were, basically, tights. They were really like high-class “long-johns,” navy blue, and made of some space-age polyester that shrunk to almost nothing. In fact, rolled-up, they were about the size of half a roll of toilet paper, but I figured that they would stretch to fit Jen’s size – and height – beautifully.

They did. Also, I found several “SkiSkins” nylon tops, again, quite “snug.” Jen picked the bright red one, pulled it on, and after looking at herself in the mirror, gathered up the hem and tied it into a knot. This had the effect of making it fit her even more snugly, in addition to making the points of her little breasts push out nicely against the clingy knit fabric and also frequently showing a gap between it and the waistband of her tights. I found a pair of heavy Ragg wool socks, which she pulled up so the bottoms of her tights were tucked inside.

Now she was dressed to face the day’s activities.

Also, she was breathtakingly cute.

Jen had math homework to get started on, and I had some business correspondence I needed to do. Also, we had books and magazines and some TV shows I had recorded, and OnDemand. There was no need to mention that there would be some bedrooom – and, perhaps, bathroom – time, too.

And it felt good to have Jen around – here, with me. She was not only good company. It seemed like I had a friend with me, a companion and, based on this morning’s demonstration in the kitchen, a partner.

But before we got started, Jen let me know, “I’m gonna make the beds.” I finished putting things in the dishwasher and went back to join her.

I lingered in the doorway for a moment and watched as she bent over straighten out some wrinkles in the center of the bed. As she did, I couldn’t help noticing how “attractively” the navy tights fit her lower body. I guess I lingered and admired a bit too long.

Jen turned and looked back over her shoulder with an accusing glance, and in a similarly accusatory tone and demanded,

“Are you looking at my butt?”

With kind of a guilty grin, I sheepishly responded, “Yes.”

“Good.

“So are you gonna help?”

I was becoming charmed – by a girl, who is only fourteen years old.

Oh, this is bad. This is very bad.

Sometime late mid-morning, Jen marked her place in her math textbook and closed it.

“Dave – do you think we could get in the bed again?”

The words were so welcome to me. Not because I was eager for more sex, but because it meant that Jen liked what we were doing – what I was able to do for her. So did I.

“Yes, my darling, I think we could. In fact, I’d like that very much.”

And once again, she took my hand, but this time, we walked together into my bedroom. I had left the blinds half-open, half-closed, so I asked Jen which she would like.

“Can we close the blinds all the way and turn on the bedside lamp. It feels more private that way.” I agreed.

We took off what we were wearing and got into bed, and we cuddled for a while. I realized, with all that we had done, we had never just held each other in bed and cuddled. I was liking it immensely, but it seemed as if Jen had something she wanted to say, so I just lay there, holding her, and waited.

“Dave, do you think that I could learn to lick you now and make you feel good, just like you do me?”

“I’m sure that, between us, you can learn, and we’ll both enjoy it and feel good.”

“So how do I start... ?”

“I guess you start by just doing what you want to do.”

“But I want to be good for you, like you are for me.”

I knew that there’s no formula on how to suck cock. But I also knew that Jen was in desperate need of some kind of answer.

“Jen, I think for most men, the...”

“I don’t care about ‘most men’ – I care about you, Dave!”

“Okay, what I mean is that – it’s not a matter of a particular technique, or a special thing you do. What turns me on the most is that the girl – the woman – really likes men...”

“Not men – you!”

“Okay, but it’s like, when I make you feel good, it’s not because I know something special or have some magic technique. It’s because I love how your pussy looks, and your taste and feel and smell, and how you move when I touch you.

“For you, if there’s a ‘secret’ at all, it’ll be how to enjoy how I taste and feel, and that you want to make me feel good.”

I guess that satisfied her, because she said, “Oh,” and then bent down and began to examine my cock. First, she just looked, from several angles, then asked, “Can I touch it – you?”

“Sure – whatever you’re comfortable doing will be right.”

She took the tip between her thumb and forefinger and lifted it, then moved it back and forth, and then, on playful impulse, moved it around in a circle, almost like she was winding something up.

Then she stopped, abruptly. “Dave, there’s something you should know...”

“What, Honey?”

“One time I sorta kissed a boy’s thing – his penis.” But before I could say anything, she went on.

“One time when Becca and I and Amy were over at her house, we were talking about boys and sex and stuff, and Amy said that she kissed her brother John’s penis all the time and asked if we’d like to see, so we said yes, and she went in the next room and got John to stop playing his video game and come into her room. Amy told him that we wanted to see how she licked and kissed his cock – that’s what she said – and he unzipped his jeans and pushed them down to his thighs, and Amy got on her knees in front of him and didn’t wait or anything, and she just put his thing in her mouth and kind of sucked on it and used her fingers like she was milking it or something, and he just stood there and let her.

“Then she stopped and asked if we’d like to do it, too. Becca said, “Won’t he mind?” and Amy said no, that he likes it when girls do that. Becca wasn’t sure, so Amy asked me.

“Amy got up, and I got down where she’d been, and I looked all around at John’s thing – his penis. Then I took it between my fingers, then I looked some more, then I put it right against my lips for a while, then I opened my lips and put just the tip in for a few seconds, but then I took it out and told Amy that that was enough. Amy asked Becca again, but she said maybe some other time. Since Becca didn’t want to do it, Amy got back and took John’s cock in her mouth, and this time she kept it in her mouth and kept up milking it, ‘til finally, he squirted in her mouth. Becca and I thought that was gross, but Amy said she liked it, and that John really liked it.”

She seemed to be finished with her account, so I spoke up. “How did it feel – to do that?”

Jen replied without any hesitation. “It was weird. It felt kind of dirty, too.”

“Did you like that?”

“I think I did.”

“If Amy – and John – offer to do that again, do you think you want to?” God help me, I was kind of getting off on it, talking “dirty” with Jen. But I figured that, with what we’d done, and what we were in the process of doing – and what we’d probably be doing in the near future – “talking dirty” didn’t seem to be too inappropriate.

“Yeah, I think so.” But then she paused, like there was something she wanted to ask me but was afraid to. She finally spoke, with just the slightest note of fear in her voice.

“Dave – I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?”

On the one hand, I wanted to laugh. But, of course, my heart broke a little for her − for her uncertainty and, apparently, her fear that she might be a disappointment to me in some way.

I put my arms around her. “No, Jen, you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re a young g− woman who wants to learn all about sex, and a friend offered you the chance to learn something, that’s all. And there’s not a thing wrong about that, okay?”

She threw her arms around my neck and squeezed and said, “Thank you!” Then she returned to where she’d left off, which was somewhere in the vicinity of using her soft hands and long fingers to examine and manipulate my cock. It was not particularly stimulating, but I was glad she was starting to loosen-up, and to explore, like I told her to.

“Why isn’t it bigger, Dave?”

I almost laughed at this unintentional denigration of my manhood. Instead, I smiled.

“Because we’re just starting, Honey. Don’t worry – it’ll get just as big and hard as it wants.”

Again, it seemed that she was satisfied by this answer, and she resumed her explorations. This time, she got close, and she sniffed. She wrinkled her forehead, like she was trying to figure out something.

“What do you smell, Jen?”

“I don’know ... it’s kinda like underwear, but not old underwear, and just a little bit of pee ... and something that smells like you, kinda like the way your flannel shirt smells...” And she sort of ran out of descriptions.

“That sounds about right, Honey. That’s how a man – this man – smells. Kind of like when I lick your pussy. You smell like a little sweat, and a little hint of pee, and a smell that is all woman, ‘though everyone has their own special smell.”

The waited for a moment, like she was trying to decide whether to ask me something. I guess she finally got her nerve up, because she asked me,

“Dave – how do I smell... ?”

I thought this would be coming.

“Jen, you smell wonderful. I can’t imagine anyone – or anything, for that matter – smelling as good to me as you do. Right now, I don’t think I could get enough of the way you smell.”

She was, first, relieved, then pleased, that I liked her aroma so much. And I guess that gave her the confidence the boost it needed for her to resume her experiments with my cock.

This time, she took my cock – which had thickened a bit, aroused, I think, by my thoughts and recollections of Jen’s aromas – and held it with her thumb and two or three fingers and put the tip in her mouth, like she had done when we were “drying” each other in the bathroom. Recognizing the familiar taste, she relaxed and opened wider and put the entire head into her mouth. And stopped there.

She held me like that for a while, as if she were waiting for something. I guessed. “Oh, Honey, that feels nice – that feels so good.”

It turns out, that was all the “guidance” she needed. Her own curiosity, along with her desire to make me feel good, were enough. She used her tongue while she had me in her mouth, then took her mouth off and licked around some more, before putting her mouth back on my cock. She also tried to take more of me into her mouth, but didn’t get anywhere near trying to deep-throat me (which is fine with me – I didn’t want her to ‘bite off more than she could chew,’ so to speak!). I just lay there, enjoying the pleasant stimulation of Jen’s soft hands and long fingers, and the gentle licks – and a few sucks. But even more, I enjoyed the sight of Jen’s long, curly brown hair lying over my thighs, and the thought of this ... this ... young girl making love to my cock.

And that’s exactly what she was doing – she was loving my cock, just because it was me.

But after a while, Jen asked, “Dave, when do you squirt?” And that’s when I realized that this lesson would require some additional details.

“Honey, a man doesn’t always ‘squirt’ every time a woman uses her mouth or hands on him. That ‘squirting’ is technically called ‘ejaculating,’ but when a man and woman are doing it in private, they usually call it ‘cumming,’ and the juice is called ‘cum’ or ‘sperm,’ or sometimes ‘jizz.’ And I didn’t do it this time because you were making me feel so good and relaxed, and I was loving what you were doing for me.”

I hoped that reassured her – I definitely didn’t want her to get the idea that she had ‘failed’ in some way.

She took some time to process what I’d said. But after a few moments, she said,

“But Dave, I still want to make you squirt – cum.” And then, in a careful, questioning tone, she asked, “Aren’t there some videos on the Internet that show people doing stuff with each other, and maybe we could watch some of those and I could see how people do it?”

Here, I was faced with a choice: Do I search on the Web and try to find real “sex education” instructional videos, hopefully with attractive people in a loving situation? Or do we take a chance on going to one of the hundreds (thousands?) of porn sites and trying to find some with a couple who might be relatable and not too ‘extreme”?

I told her, “Come on up here, Honey, and let me hold you for a while. Then we can get on the computer and look for just the right kind of videos.” We lay there a while, Jen with her curly head on my shoulder, my arm around her. It felt – great.

But after a few minutes, she asked, “Dave, can we look for some videos now?”

We unwound ourselves, and, figuring that my “office” room wouldn’t be a place conducive to watching romantic – or sexy – videos, I went to the office and got my laptop and a cable and brought them back to the bedroom, where I plugged the computer into the TV. Along the way, I looked out the windows to see that a light snow had started to fall again.

After we got things started, I searched for “sex instruction” and/or “romantic videos.” Lots of hits, mostly the names of movie romances. The “sex instruction” and “sex techniques” searches yielded results that were more appropriate. But after sampling a few, we both felt that they were either too “didactic,” like technical training films, or too “soft-focus” and mushy – kind of like explicit romance videos from Hallmark.

“Aren’t there any other movies we can look at, Dave?”

I realized that Jen was pushing me a bit, but I went with her request. We went to one of the better-known, “mainstream porn” sites, where I quickly got off the “Newest Videos” screen, checked the category for “Straight,” and typed “couples” into the search bar.

Needless to say, these particular tags resulted in literally thousands of “hits.” Before Jen was able to focus on something she might not be prepared to handle yet, I quickly scanned the thumbnail pictures for what I knew I wanted: a young-looking couple, so Jen would be able to relate to the girl, and where the girl didn’t look like a porn starlet or pro, and the guy didn’t look too “butch” (I didn’t want Jen to get her expectations too high!).

On the second screen, I found one that looked promising. It was a “normal-looking” young couple, apparently recorded in their own bedroom, by themselves, since the camera stayed fixed in one position until they moved it. The couple were both fair-haired and fair-skinned, and judging from their complexions and their features, might have been Eastern European. Anyhow, they looked young enough that Jen might be able to relate to them, and they didn’t seem “threatening.” In fact, they even appeared to be a little shy, which I thought might be good.

I think it also helped that, after an initial kiss, the video began with the girl lying down on the bed, her back against the pillows, and the boy climbing between her long, thin, fair-skinned legs. After a few “regular” kisses, he looked back over his shoulder toward the camera, and moved both of them around a little for a better camera angle. He gently pushed her legs apart and spread her pussy lips a little for the camera, then leaned down, took a “test” lick, then began to eat her in earnest. Not wildly or aggressively, but certainly “enthusiastically,” enjoying his task, and glancing up at the girl every now and then to make sure that everything was okay.

This was perfect, to my mind. They began with something that Jen was already familiar with, and they were taking it gently. I hoped this was what Jen had been wanting.

We had propped ourselves up against the headboard of the bed. For warmth, Jen had put on one of my long-on-her t-shirts, and I was wearing a Nike athletic shirt, again, for warmth. It was quite nice, actually, sitting companionably, shoulders against each other. We could just as well have been reading together or watching an “I Love Lucy” marathon. But instead, we were about to watch pornographic videos, to help Jen learn how to suck a man’s cock. My cock.

Back to the video. The boy continued licking, eating, and kissing the girl’s pussy. He paused occasionally to spread her pussy lips with his fingers, and this provided a surprisingly good look at what he had been loving so --- lovingly. I watched Jen, as she got to see what she and I might look like when we – when we were doing that.

As if on cue, she asked, “Is that what we look like, Dave?”

“Yes, Jen, I imagine we do. Only you’re a lot prettier than she is.”

“Dave!” She punched my arm, gently, then leaned over and kissed my cheek.

They went on, until the girl’s smooth hip undulations began to get more intense, and she arched her back and her body began to stiffen. And then she put her hands on the boy’s shoulders and pushed him downward and away from her.

“Why’d she do that? Is something wrong, Dave?”

I waited a moment, and as I had suspected, she sat up and kissed his lips and turned him around, so that now he was leaning back against the headboard.

“No, Honey. I think she was feeling so good that she was almost ready to cum – like you do, when I lick you real good – and she didn’t want to right now. I think she wants to lick and suck him, and she doesn’t want to cum until ... Well, let’s see what they do, okay?”

Now that she knew the boy and girl were fine, I clicked on the “Pause” button again to resume, and the girl did exactly what I had expected. She lay down between the boys long, pale legs and began to explore his cock, very much like Jen had when she was first experimenting with me. Then she extended her tongue a bit and licked the tip of his cock, and then pushed it into the hole at the tip a bit.

“See, Honey, she’s doing like what you did.” I got an “Um-hmm” agreement in return.

The girl began to take more and more of the boy’s cock into her mouth. I realized then that she had her almost-white hair gathered back in a ponytail that was tied with a green ribbon, and that kept her hair out of the way – and made it easier for Jen to see what she was doing.

We watched as the girl’s head went up and down the boy’s cock. You could see that she was relaxing her jaw and pursing her lips so her teeth wouldn’t scrape. She also started using a pretty good milking technique with her hand, starting low toward the base of his cock, then sliding up toward the tip with a little quarter-turn twist of her hand, sliding up just enough to include the “crown” of the cockhead before starting another stroke.

Jen seemed fascinated by this motion. I spoke up,

“See, what she’s doing with her hand like that? When his cock is a little wet, like from when she licks him, the sliding feeling of her hand feels really good to the man. And that little sliding and twisting motion she’s doing on the swollen part of the head – that’s maybe the most sensitive part for a man. And, yes, for me, too!”

Jen seemed to be pleased with that bit of information, both the “how-to” part, and the knowledge that it was something that I like.

The girl must have been doing a pretty good job, because soon the boy began lifting his pelvis, moving his hips faster, and using his hands to push her head toward him. She apparently knew what these signs meant, because she stopped her sucking, and with her thumb and forefinger she squeezed his cock, at the crown, right at the base of the head. The boy gave a startled lurch.

“What’d she do??”

I explained, “Did you see the way he was moving his hips faster and faster? Well, she knew that meant that he was almost ready to cum, and she didn’t want him to yet. So she squeezed – kind of firmly, but gently – just below the head of his cock, and that stops a man who’s almost ready to cum.”

“But why would she do that? Doesn’t it hurt the boy?”

“Well, it doesn’t feel good, but it doesn’t really hurt, either. And she did it because she doesn’t want him to cum now – she wants to save it for something else, and the boy knows that.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

“Watch.”

The girl started to get up and move around, as I knew she was going to, and spread her legs on either side of his. Then she did what I hoped she’d do – she turned so her front was facing the video recorder and squatted so her pussy was right over the boy’s cock. I was pleased, because this meant that Jen (and I) got a good view of what they were going to do next.

But the girl surprised me – in a good way – by not immediately putting the boy’s cock inside of her. Instead, she aimed it back toward the boy’s stomach, then lowered her pussy onto it and began sliding back and forth.

“What’s she doing? I thought they were going to fuck?”

Well, that answered several questions: One, she knew what boys and girls – and men and women – do in situations like this. And she knew that it was called “fucking,” and she wasn’t shy about using the word. And that would make it easier for us to talk.

“There’re lots of things that people can do that feel good. She’s rubbing her pussy back and forth on this cock, and that feels good to both of them. Do you ever rub your fingers or things on your pussy?”

“Yeah.”

I stopped myself from asking, “What kind of things?”, or what she thought about while she was rubbing herself, and instead explained, “Well, imagine how nice it feels – for both of them – when the thing she’s rubbing on is her boyfriend’s nice, smooth, wet cock.”

The girl slid back and forth, and it was obvious that she was getting pleasure from it. We could watch her face, of course, but she did other things, too. She massaged her breasts, first with one hand, then with both. Then she reached down with one hand and began to rub her pussy – sometimes just a finger on her clitoris, other times using all four fingers to vigorously rub the whole area. And sometimes she would lean her body forward and skootch her butt back so her clit would rub more against her boyfriend’s cock.

“Why’s she leaning like that?”

“You know that little bump – that little ‘button’ near the top of your pussy – your clitoris, or ‘clit’? When she leans forward like that, it lets her clit rub along his cock more, and that feels really good to her. That’s a good thing for you to know – that the more your clit gets rubbed, the better everything feels for you.”

“Oh – so I should remember to make sure that my clitoris – my clit – gets rubbed a lot?”

I couldn’t have put it any better myself.

The girl in the video slowed her rubbing against her boyfriend and lifted herself and pulled his cock so it was out in front of her pussy. She rubbed it against her pussy and clit a few times, then put three fingers into her mouth and got them wet, then reached down and rubbed them around the head of her boyfriend’s cock to get it wet, and then lifted herself, positioned his cock, and lowered herself until his entire long, thin cock had disappear inside her.

“So now they’re really fucking?” That word again.

“Yes, this is the real thing. Since she’s on top, she’s kind of in control, let’s see how she does it.”

Well, the girl put on a pretty good performance for Jen. She moved up and down, sometimes leaning forward so her clit got better contact, sometimes leaning backward, presumably because that caused her boyfriend’s cock to hit some place inside her that felt good. She rotated her hips, first one direction, then the other. And like before, she massaged her breasts, toyed with her nipples, and reached down to rub herself – lots. Basically, she did almost everything that a girl – woman – could do from that “reverse cowgirl” position. Jen was getting a good lesson.