Chapter 4

I was a little nervous, despite everything, as we finished cleaning up. Oh, the sex sounded fun, but with older people? And I'd see my Mom and Dad naked, too. What about Grandma? Women that age should remain covered for very good reasons. Mother Nature isn't kind to you as you age, and it's really not polite to show that.

First, the practical details. Everyone used the bathroom to clean up. It really isn't cool, and kind of distracting, to be in the middle of doing it with someone and realize that you had to go to the bathroom. And this also got you familiar with where the bathrooms were and how they were laid out, things that could be important later on.

Then, what to do with your clothes. And here was the where the first bit of practical advice I'd been given helped. I got a guy, that same one I'd admired as he put up the tables, to help me with my shorts. It was only fair that I help him with his. I got to run my hand over his marvelous chest and shoulders, and just so lightly brush the small of his back and the various parts of male anatomy that were handy.

He returned the favor, making sure my boobs got plenty of attention. One thing I'll say about them, if a guy knows how to treat a woman's breasts he can get her turned on and score some major points with her. I was sitting on his knee, and I kept getting hotter and hotter, and more in need of attention from his mouth.

Warm hands, warm lips, strong muscles, not to mention a tight rear end, powerful legs, and a wonderful chest. He was a well-built man, and I was willing putty in his hands. The kisses got hotter, and a lot more interesting, especially when he went exploring. I liked the kisses in the hollow of my throat and on my breasts. The kisses on my tummy were unexpected, but pleasant. Then he went lower.

I could see this going on around me. Guys have a fascination about a girl's sex, and have very little hesitation about getting right down there to look, or, in this case, to kiss.

I had the same thought I think every girl has: why does he want to kiss me there? That's where a girl pees, and if a guy ever saw what her panties looked like, he'd be turned off. Then I felt his first touch, and I understood.

There are no words to describe what it's like when a guy goes down on you. It's like he's worshipping the very essence of your woman-ness. He made appreciative noises, and every joke about a guy going there raced through my mind, and vanished. The only one that made sense was: how does a woman hold her liquor (licker)? By the ears. I wanted to pull him harder against me. He was giving me these maddeningly light kisses that tickled and caressed. It was wonderful and frustrating at the same time.

Then he pushed his clever little muscle into me, just a quick probing, and I thought I'd melt. The tongue was replaced with a finger, then two, and his tongue journeyed up my sex and visited my pearl.

It didn't take long after that. I came. I bucked up into him grabbing and holding his head, afraid that he'd back away. Wave after wave of feeling would surge, diminish, and then come back again. And I almost screamed when he ceased.

In truth I was getting awfully sensitive down there, feeling every breath of air. But he kissed my thatch of red hair before worked his way up my tummy, pausing to appreciate my boobs before making the long journey past my neck to finally settle against my lips.

I knew what this meant, and sighed happily when I felt the now-familiar nudge between my legs. I couldn't help it, I grabbed his length and guided it into position. Then it was up to him, and he didn't disappoint; he sank half his length in me, really opening me up, and plugging me at the same time.

I think I've said there's no real way to describe how it feels when a man enters you. This was easily ten times what I'd experienced before. This was a lot more intense, and when he sheathed his muscle all the way in I was practically coming all over again.

Then he began moving.

When I finally came down to Earth my skin was electric, I was totally relaxed, and my breathing was finally slowing down. He was relaxing too, cradling me in his arms, his body warm against mine. I felt joined to him physically, spiritually, and emotionally. This had been quite an experience, even if I didn't remember most of it. I wasn't sure what you said at a time like this, so I kissed him. He kissed me back, and for a few minutes we had quite a fine time of it. He was a good kisser, and given our circumstances, lying naked on a couch, got his whole body into it.

Finally, after all of this, we began to talk. I was a little distracted, there was this male muscle still lodged in a very personal space, and I don't care what they say, that will distract any girl. But Mom was right, I felt as if there weren't any barriers between us and we could communicate quite freely.

His name was Eric,, he was just barely 17, and he was a junior in high school. He was a little surprised that I was only 15, I certainly didn't look it, but accepted it for what it was, the way things were. Then he let slip what high school he went to.

"Oh my God," I said, "I go there, too."

"What?!" He looked surprised, as we realized we'd probably seen each other in the halls. "I didn't think ... I mean ... That is..."

I put my finger on his lips. "Hush." He looked like he was going to say something more, so I kissed him again. That got his complete attention, and he returned it with interest. One thing led to another, things progressed ... Nuts, I've run out of euphemisms. We did it again.

He hadn't really pulled out of me after the first time, so it was kind of interesting, as he kissed and fondled, and I touched, kissed, and caressed back, to feel him growing in me. I missed that electric moment of him putting it in me, but not to worry, we did it a number of different ways, and I got that sensation all over again.

There's only so much room on a couch, and we sort of had to share it with another couple, so we migrated to the floor. I got to be on top, which was way cool, and we did it on our sides, guys can't get as deep, and then, with me clinging to the couch, he took me from behind. Wow! I thought his dick was going to reach my throat from the other end!

But in the end, with me having climaxed a couple of times, we completed in the traditional way with me on my back, holing him with my arms and legs as the moment took him. And afterwards I murmured in his ear as he relaxed and came down.

I wanted to have him all to myself, but that wasn't quite the way things were supposed to work. Or were they? There wasn't any way for me to find out, at least at the moment, so I tabled that for future questions. Instead we snuggled for a bit, and then finally got up—we both had shaky legs—and tried to orient ourselves in a room that had turned ... wild.

There were naked bodies everywhere: the couch, the other couch, the chairs, the carpet, even standing against the walls. Butts were pumping, boobs were bouncing, people were moaning and gasping, all of the sights and sounds of your classical orgy, only this wasn't a print, this was right in front of our eyes.

I saw my first come. There was a guy next to us, and at the last moment he hauled it out and came all over the gal's tummy. I was fascinated by the white spurts. This was what it was all about. This was what had happened in side of me, and, as I looked, was happening inside about half the women present.

The other thing I noticed was the smell. I'm sure semen has a smell, but it was lost in the much stronger smell of female parts. Its something you occasionally run into when you're getting ready to take a shower in gym: the girl next to you has a certain odor that is unique to a woman. That was present here, in spades. I probably smelled the same way. There are ads on TV about special deodorants designed to mask that smell, but there was no denying it here: there was a room full of sexually aroused females, and their juices were flowing.

We finally got up, and hand in hand we picked our way over the writhing, moaning bodies. There was a sideboard, and he had something to drink, he had vital bodily fluids to restore after all. While he was doing that I was looking around, seeing who was where, and what they were doing.

Krys was nowhere to be seen. Dad—I saw him in the corner with some brunette sucking his dick; Mom was in a chair with some balding guy's face buried against her sex. From the look on her face she was enjoying every bit of his attention. As I watched, he got up and put his stiff dick where his tongue had been.

How did I feel about seeing my mother have sex with a total stranger? Kind of happy for her, actually. I wasn't shocked, I'd come to terms with everything, I guess. It wasn't love, after all, it was just sex, a physical activity two adults could share if they wanted, and quite pleasurable to both. And from the look on her face it was a very pleasurable activity. Her legs were around his waist, and her breasts were bouncing back and forth with his thrusts. She kept running her hands up his arms, and the glow in her eyes could have lit the room.

We're not meant to be celibate, it's an unnatural state, and Mom was making the most of her opportunity to avoid celibacy.

"There's my folks," Eric said, breaking my focus. He was nodding at a couple that seemed to be getting up from a tryst with another pair. "C'mon."

I hadn't thought of meeting Eric's parents. There are all sorts of social things that happen and are implied by 'meeting the parents'. Was I prepared for them? I certainly wasn't looking my best. I was naked, my nips were sticking way out, my skin was sweaty and flushed, my hair was clinging to me rather than flowing out like I liked, and so on. But here w were, picking our way across the naked bodies for that all so critical 'meet the parents' moment.

"Mom, Dad, this is Amber." Eric had my hand, and pulled me forward slightly as if to show me off.

I smiled and took his mother's hand. For a moment we eyed each other, the mother sizing up the young female that her son was showing an interest in. I must have passed some internal checklist. I saw the faintest of nods just before she smiled. Guys don't see these things. Eric saw our hands come up, the smiles, and the traditional 'pleased to meet you' greetings. He didn't see everything else that happened in that first fraction of a second. Nor did he see that we were each reserving judgment. How I acted in the next few weeks would solidify or disprove whatever opinion she'd formed of me in that first second. We women are so judgmental, and we make those decisions in an instant.