Chapter 8

Later Eric and I got to comparing notes about those last few minutes before he picked me up. I was nervous, trying very hard not to sweat, er, glow. Young ladies don't sweat, they glow. And glowing would stain my dress. And he was nerving himself to show up at the door.

The situation could best be described as unusual. After all, we'd been to parties and seen each other naked. My parents had seen him naked, and vice versa. They'd even seen him putting it to me. But here we wee, going through the motions as if I were virginal and so on. It caused no amount of stress. The things society makes us do.

Anyway, the doorbell rang, and I let out a squeak. Krys, who was waiting for her own date, checked out front. "Eric."

I swallowed, or at least tried to. My throat was dry, and my palms weren't. This was way worse than just a month before, walking into a room and taking off my clothes in front of a bunch of strangers. I think it's our expectations and worries.

Eric was wearing a black tux and looking handsome, almost polished. I rose to greet him, and we held hands and stared into each others' eyes for a few heartbeats before I remembered where we were and what was supposed to happen.

"Have fun, dear," my mother said as Dad shook Eric's hand.

I gave Krys a hug, and then Eric escorted me out to his father's car. I was off on this part of the great adventure of being a teenage girl going to the Prom.

The Prom Committee had rented the ballroom at a hotel in town. There were refreshments on the side, tables along the walls, and plenty of space for couples to dance the night away. And we did, but only after some important things. First, we had to see what the other girls were wearing, though we generally refrained from dissing them. That would be later, in school. Then we had to find our tables with the individual place settings, pose for the obligatory photos, and so on. By then the music had started, and Eric swept me off onto the dance floor. Round and round, we went. Fast, slow, I think we hit nearly every dance number they played. By now we were familiar with each others' bodies and how we moved, but that was sex, this was dancing, something related, but different.

I saw Krys in her silver lamé sheath. I had to admit that with her hair and skin, it worked. In a way she looked like an ice princess, but the combination of light and dark just went well together. And it was clear she was having a lot of fun.

We didn't stray far from the dance floor. This was much better than the regular dances we went to, in part because we were all dressed up. The flowers and favors on every table, the decorations, the gowns, everything combined to make this a very elegant and romantic evening.

Dance followed dance, though occasionally we sat one or two out and talked. That was the exception. This was the South, so the Prom was about seeing, being seen, and dancing. It was a promenade, where Eric showed me off, and, I showed him off. I could feel the eyes of the adults following us. I was one of the youngest girls there, so I got more than my share of attention. Most of all, though, we danced.

It was late when we finally called it a night, at least on the dance floor. A lot of kids were heading upstairs, the girls a little nervously, the guys even more so. Until I'd started partying I hadn't realized that guys get that way about sex. In their case it was "performance anxiety". What if they couldn't get it up? What if they came to soon? What if... ? The girl, on the other hand, wants to know if it'll hurt, what it's going to feel like, whether there would be fireworks and skyrockets, and whether the boy would treat her like a cheap tramp in the morning. There were a lot of unknowns to be answered in the next few hours.

Eric and I didn't have those questions. Eric escorted me to the car, we stopped at one post-Prom party to talk and be seen, and then we were off. But unlike the other 15 year-old girls, I wasn't headed home. Instead we went to the home of a couple that was partying with our parents.

Eric undressed me slowly, with plenty of kisses. I actually got goose bumps on my arms. This wasn't the sex after a party type kissing, either, but Eric as the seducer. In its own way it was very romantic and I was torn: I wanted it to drag out as long as possible, and I wanted to get on with the main event. In the end dragging out won as I let Eric dictate the pace.

We eventually got naked and between the sheets. The ship docked in the same harbor, and unloaded the same cargo as always. But after resting, I began kissing him, little kisses up and down his body, each time a little lower. This was just teasing, only we hadn't done it this way before. In some ways this was a lot more intimate than if I'd done anything else.

Eventually I got to the base of his tummy. I looked at his dick, drew a breath, and dropped a kiss on it.

The first thing I noticed was the taste. After a moment it hit me: I was tasting my own juices. And, when I pressed my tongue against his tip, I got the bitterness of his come. I already knew what that tasted like, a girl at one party had wanted him to come on her tummy, and then she'd scooped some up and offered it to me. Well that's something you don't say no to, so I licked it up, rolled it across my tongue, and got used to what his most intimate juices tasted like.

I had that now, but overlaid with my own. I hesitated after the first lick, and he spoke up.

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

"But I want to do this for you," I said. "I'm just not very experienced at it."

He encouraged me by telling me what felt good, and after a bit he was clean and I felt a lot more confident. I was pretty sure he wasn't going to go off and flood my mouth with his come, but that was still in the back of my mind. Krys had told me what to do in that case.

"If you don't want to take it in your mouth, and a lot of girls don't, close your mouth and eyes, turn your head, and keep encouraging him. There'll be some clean up after he finishes coming, but you can either lick it up, every girl should learn what come tastes like, or wipe it up with a tissue."

After a bit, with his dick very hard, he spoke again. "Get on."

"You mean... ?"

"We'll finish this later. Right now, get on."

I didn't need a second invitation. I swung my leg over his hips, put his dick where it belonged, and settled back. I sighed as he sheathed himself in me. This was so much better.

When I'm on top I can come a lot faster than in other positions. I rammed myself down on his delicious hardness. My breasts were bouncing, my hair was flying, and I was getting higher and higher. He began to move, thrusting up just as I pushed down, which made it even better. We were both doing this, not just one person.

When I came, and the thought of our doing this together was a powerful one, I heard him grunt in the way he did when he came. He thrust up and held. The last conscious thought I had for quite a while was that we'd come together.

When I came back to myself the bedside lamp was still on, but the clock said it was hours later. We were still joined, but his dick slid out at the first move

There are certain cleanliness things you have to do, especially if you're a girl, and I took a quick pee. I woke him up when I came back to bed, and we did it all over again.

It was pretty late in the morning before we got out of bed, though we were both awake long before then. But we were all supposed to meet at a restaurant for Sunday brunch. That was the last social event of the Prom, and every kid would try to be there.