Chapter 1: Paul loses interest in treasure hunting

The sunlight glimmered through the breaks in the tree limbs. The early-evening light fluttered over the leaf-strewn carpet of the forest. Paul Davis moved through the dry leaves testing his birthday present, a Treasure Ace 300 metal detector. Lured by advertisements of long-lost riches, Paul had irritated his father until Paul received the metal detector for his fifteenth birthday. He skimmed the head of the detector over the leaves beside the path seeking long-past dropped treasures. While riches lay just below the surface on the commercials, true treasure was absent. After two hours alone in the forest, the metal detector's novelty level was depleting faster than the batteries. He reversed the metal detector's direction in reaction to the beep in the headphones.

"Finally," he thought. He slipped his backpack from his shoulder and plopped it onto the top of a tree stump. Pulling out the small spade strapped to his backpack he nudged aside the soil seeking unknown artifacts. His pile of dirt had not surpassed molehill when a small rusty nail flipped to the top of the dirt pile.

"Damn, a fucking nail." He holstered the spade, and lifted up the metal detector and resumed half-hearted sweeps further along the path. Five minutes further into the waning novelty a moan froze the sweeping head. A repetition, now a persistent tone, floating damply over the bushes ahead, he quietly plucked the headphones off and flicked the power to the detector off.

An alto "oh, yeah!" intertwined the moaning soprano, soft, gentle and dipping moisture. The heartbeat in Paul's ear added a baseline to the growing surprise symphony. The dense growth of bushes obscured the source of the music. Paul stashed the detector behind a fallen tree trunk and looked for a route to a better viewpoint. A crumbling stone wall ran along his left and curved over to about thirty feet from the source of the sound, on the opposite side of the bushes. As he moved away another, louder moan floated from the bushes. He slipped over the weatherworn rocks on the top, and, crouching down, crept along the base of the wall, he moved down about seventy-five feet and peeked between two rocks on the top of the wall.

Tom Powell and Melinda Anderson, two of Paul's friends from school, were too into each other to notice Paul. Tom and Melinda were two of the more popular kids in his tenth grade class. He had Melinda in his biology class, though not in the way Tom was now. She perched on a lab stool at the workstation behind his and to the right. If she turned slightly toward Paul on her lab stool, and he dropped his pencil just right he could learn the color of her panties.

He didn't have to drop a pencil today. Tom's right hand, hidden by the short-red skirt that fell far short of Melinda's knees, was keeping time with her moans, and Melinda's pink, flowered panties lay crumpled on the ground. He could see the dark stain on the crotch. Melinda's hips slowly rocked as her legs widened. Tom silenced her with a wet kiss. Paul had never seen anyone making out. He had never made out. This lack of experience didn't slow the force of blood to his cock. The denim across the front of his pants strained as his cock grew to full-use size. His cock twitched as he thought of Tom's fingers moving through the wet jungle of Melinda's bare pussy. Tom rolled back from Melinda and grabbed for his zipper.

Paul could see Tom's jeans were also straining. She opened her eyes at the loss of the fingers in here pussy. Seeing the zipper of Tom's pants separate quickly under the pressure from below, Melinda floated another moan on the air.

"Pull your cock out," Melinda panted and reached to help.

She moved her hand over to the divide and slipped into the gap. Tom's head rolled back at the touch of her fingers on his cloth-covered cock. Melinda's fingers traced over the surface of his briefs looking for the entryway to his cock.

"Damn, I hate it when you wear briefs. I can never find the fucking hole."

The gap in the underwear parted and Paul saw her hand plunge through the entry. Pulling back sharply, Melinda brought his cock into view.

"Oh, Tom, I just love your cock."

"Babe, it loves you too."

"You know what I really love, hon?"

"No."

"I love how it tastes." Her lips covered the head and descended down the shaft.

"Yeah. Suck it babe."

Tom could feel her tongue on the large vein as she pulled his big cock into the back of her throat. Paul couldn't believe the length of cock Melinda swallowed. She gagged at the very bottom of the stroke. Tom groaned at the pressure her gag reflex applied to his cock.

"Suck that cock, babe. I can't believe how much of my cock you can get in your throat." Tom pulled his head up to see the his cock disappear into Melinda's miracle mouth. Her skirt had ridded up and right next to his right hand was a very wet pussy covered with the soft blonde hair the matched her head. Two fingers separated the moist lips and slid inside. The hairs of her pussy were matted with the liquid dripping from her hot pussy. Melinda sucked harder at the sensation of Tom's long thin fingers slipping into her wet cunt.

"Tom, you get me so hot when you finger my pussy. Rub my clit. It's so hot."

"Mel, you're so wet!"

Tom's thumb eased into her cunt for some juice and then slid up to her little clit. Tom liked to tease Melinda about her small clit, just a little bump at the top of her pussy. Small in size, but not in sensitivity, she groaned, and Paul's cock jerked again and leaked a little cum into his pants.

Paul slid his hand down to his zipper and pulled the tab around the large bulge in the front of his jeans. He sighed the parting zipper released some of the pressure from his cock. The snap of his jeans cracked at the release of pressure.

"Come on Tom. Put another finger in my hot pussy."

Paul's hands slipped to the waistband of his jeans and pushed downward. His underwear followed, his cock snapping out from the elastic waistband. His cock compared very nicely with Tom's he could see. He thought, "Now why can't I find some hot pussy like that to suck on my cock?" Even never having had a blowjob Paul knew that his fingers now curling around his cock were not going to give him the pleasure Melinda's tight little throat was giving Tom. Paul started to slowly stroke his cock as Melinda pulled Tom's monster from its den.

"Did you bring a condom?" she asked.

"I brought two."

"Smart man, give me one."

Tom fished the condom from the pants now around his ankles. Melinda tore the package and slipped the rubber in her mouth. Down she went again. Far enough to gag again, slowly rising up the shaft leaving it covered in wet latex.