This is the third story about Sandy and Tim. The first several stories are being written and told in chronological order. Even though each story stands on its own, you might find that reading them in order helps you better understand who they are. The earlier stories are:
It Started in Drivers' Ed Class, which tells the story about how Tim and Sandy met, and
I Can't See You, in which Tim "helps" Sandy get ready for a date.
I hope you enjoy.
"What time should I be here tomorrow?"
Sandy and Tim had met during the summer between their sophomore and junior years of high school. Tim was immediately smitten by the tall (5'9", or 175 cm), thin (135 lbs, or 61 kg), athletic brunette. A wallflower at the time they met, with Tim's encouragement Sandy had blossomed into an utterly confident, intelligent, self-assured modern teen.
They had been at the top of their classes at their respective high schools, and they discussed their futures regularly. With a keen mind for mathematics, Sandy was interested in a career in finance and wanted to go to business school. Tim, on the other hand, was interested in math, physics and problem-solving, and chose a future in engineering. They wanted to stay together, though, and they eventually decided that they would both go to one of the state universities, as it had programs they both should enjoy. The best thing, though, was that the school was far enough away from home that they wouldn't be bothered by casual visitors from their hometown, but with a five hour drive they could be back home for the weekend if they desired.
Although they had been at school for only a few weeks, they both thought they had made the right decision. Sandy ended up pledging to one of the school's sororities and moving into their house, and Tim's apartment was conveniently only a block or two away. After a couple of weeks, Sandy was essentially spending all her spare time either with her sorority sisters or with Tim.
College had started in early September, and in mid-October Sandy and Tim needed to go home to attend the wedding of a high school friend. They drove down on Friday afternoon, the wedding was Saturday, and they were planning to return to school on Sunday. It was the typical whirlwind weekend that only young people can enjoy. They had endured and enjoyed the wedding, and now they were planning their return to school.
"Well, I'm going to need some time to get everything together, so why don't we plan to leave about ten? We can stop for lunch on the way, and we'll be back at your place about three. That will give us the rest of the day to relax, have dinner and get ready for class."
"Ok, I'll be here a few minutes before ten, and we can get on the road. I'm looking forward to being back alone with you."
As Tim moved in to kiss her goodnight, Sandy replied, "That makes two of us, sweetie."
As soon as Tim's lips touched Sandy's, she rotated her hips forward so that her pubic bone rubbed against Tim's semi-hard cock. As if she wanted to make sure he caught what she was doing, she rolled her hips back and forth, back and forth.
Sandy's efforts certainly did not go unnoticed. Feeling the unexpected sensation, Tim moved instinctively, his hands first rubbing Sandy's braless tits through her halter-top dress, and then descending to caress her fabulous ass and pull her hips into him.
"There's just something about weddings that turns single girls on," Tim thought. "They get amazingly horny. Must be some sort of anticipation thing. I may as well enjoy it, though. Maybe the weekend will turn out ok after all."
Cindy's butt cheeks were as hard as a rock. "Pantyhose, dammit," Tim thought. His hands remained on Sandy's butt, though, as the kiss wore down.
"Mmmm, I may need to stay awhile," he softly whispered into her ear.
Sandy chuckled. "Well, if you're going to do that, I need to go potty. I can't wait a whole lot longer."
"That sounds like a good excuse for getting out of those heels and pantyhose," he replied.
"I'll be right back," she laughed, slapping his arm as she left.
Tim sat on the couch as he waited for Sandy. When she returned, she gathered up her floor-length dress, sat down on the couch, turned and swung her long legs down its length and reclined into Tim's lap. He was supporting her back with his left arm and caressing her with his right.
"Wasn't this a nice weekend?" she asked.
"It sure was," he lied. "There's nothing like a wedding."
Knowing that she was already primed, Tim kissed Sandy's nose, kissed her lips and then buried his face in her neck. Sandy gave soft moans of approval. While he kissed and teased her neck and ear, his right hand moved down to her ankles and started its journey up the outside of her thigh. "Wow. The pantyhose is gone," he thought. "That's a good sign."
Without objection, his hand moved all the way up her thigh, over her hip, waist and ribcage, and all the way to her shoulders as he gently rubbed her back. "Nothin' but skin," he thought. "God, she is amazing. The most gorgeous body in the world, and here it is in my arms."
Tentatively, Tim moved his hand to Sandy's left breast. Sandy sighed and pushed up against the digits that were exploring her virgin tit. Not being an idiot, Tim took this as a good sign, even though this was new territory for him.
Tim was not experienced with girls. Although Sandy had allowed him to feel her up outside her clothing, he had touched her normally-covered skin only once before, and that was when he was unable to move anything other than his lips. He learned from that experience, though, that Sandy seemed to like her tits dealt with a little roughly. When he moved his right hand to her left tit, therefore, he gave it a good squeeze and started pulling on her nipple, tweaking it between his thumb and index finger and, in his exuberance and inexperience, generally trying to maim it. Not wanting it to feel alone, he did the same with her right breast. Sandy, unbelievably, loved it, writhing, squirming and making soft mewling sounds while Tim mauled her still-developing mammaries. Tim could hear her gasping as he continued his heavy-handed manipulations.
In a fit of passion, Tim moved his lips down to Sandy's breasts and began suckling her nipples through her dress, with his hands and lips moving back and forth between the two firm, proud globes. Sandy continued gasping; "Oh ... Oh ... Oh..." was the only sound she was able to produce.
Sandy was not a passive person, however. As Tim continued nuzzling her breasts, Sandy's instinctive reaction was to open her thighs, move her hands to her pussy and begin softly rubbing. "Oh, my God!" became her new mantra, as she began chanting to the rhythm of her rubbing. Her hips began pumping and thrusting, trying to capture her fingers as she kneaded her lower lips.
Feeling the change in Sandy's rhythm, Tim dared to move his right hand down to Sandy's groin. "If she's going to give me the opportunity, I'm going to take it," he thought. "The worst she can do is get ticked off, stop me and send me home. She needs me to get back to school tomorrow, though, so I can explain myself then if I need to." Pushing Sandy's hand aside, he began rolling her vaginal lips in his fingers.
Sandy had no objections to Tim's ministrations. She was in no mood to deal with amateurs, however, and teaching anatomy by braille was not terribly high on her list of priorities. Grabbing Tim's hand, she took his three largest fingers and, as she held her cunt open with her other hand, she thrust them into her hot channel. Forcing Tim's hand back and forth, she showed him the rhythm that she so badly wanted and needed. Tim, fortunately, learned quickly, forcing his fingers as hard and deep into her wet cunt as he possibly could, not having any real idea of what he was doing. He could feel the friction from Sandy's closely-trimmed pubic hair as he bottomed out on his strokes.
With Tim taking care of her inner needs, Sandy concentrated on achieving her satisfaction. Scooping up some of her natural lubrication, she strummed her fingers lightly but very quickly over her engorged and throbbing clit. Her hips continued to thrust up to meet Tim's hand, forcing his fingers even deeper into her steaming wet passage. The smell of her sex filled the room.
Between her highly aroused mental state and the manual manipulations of Tim, Sandy was on the edge of a massive orgasm in only a minute or two. Finally, it hit her. Her spasming pussy clutched at Tim's fingers as Sandy shuddered and shook. She released a long, low moan while the orgasm swept through her entire body. As her muscles contracted and froze, she planted her feet on the couch and thrust her hips in the air, leaving only her heels and her head to support her. Tim felt both the convulsions and the release of her pussy as Sandy's cum coated his hand.
Awash in the emotional aftermath of her explosive climax, Sandy turned onto her side, facing Tim; she curled up in his lap. "Oh, my God," she whispered. "That was amazing. It was one of the most intense things that has ever happened to me. I hope I didn't embarrass you."
"You have got to be kidding me. Damn, I wish I had a videocamera going."
"You pervert," she laughed. "I don't think I'm ready for THAT yet, but maybe we could try that someday."
"Yet. I owe you for this one, buddy, so it's a maybe. And actually," she said, looking up at him, "I think I might like the idea. We'll see. In the meantime, though, once I catch my breath you need to take off and I need to air out this room.
"Oh, shoot!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "I didn't make a wet spot on the couch, did I? That would be really hard to explain."
Looking down, she saw that her dress had been underneath her, protecting the couch. "Well, my dress is soaked, but at least the couch is ok. I'll have to throw the dress in my suitcase tonight, though, so my mother doesn't smell it and get suspicious."
"You know, if you took the dress off I could take it with me tonight so you wouldn't have to worry about it," Tim said with feigned innocence, as he stood and hugged Sandy.
"That's pretty lame, Tim. Yeah, you'd love that, wouldn't you, boy," Sandy laughed. "I kind of like the thought, though," she added teasingly.
"It never hurts to try, does it? By the way -- I don't know what you have with you in the way of clothes, but if you could wear a flimsy little dress or something tomorrow with the same thing underneath it that you're wearing now, it would be sexy as hell."
"The same thing..." Sandy mused, until she finally caught on. She punched his arm. "You are so bad. You really do like that, don't you."
"Oh, yeah," Tim said, moving his hands down to her butt and giving it a squeeze. "I really do."
"I'll see what I can do," she said. "Just remember where we are, though. We need to watch ourselves."
"I know. It's fun to be a little daring sometimes, though."
"It really is," she agreed, grinding her pelvis into his and moving up for a goodnight kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow, babe. Sweet dreams."
"I know what I'll be dreaming about," he said as he closed the door.
"So do I, Tim," Sandy said to herself as she locked up. "So do I.
"I have some thinking to do."
"Good morning, Tim. I'll let Sandy know you're here. Go on back to the pool; everyone's out there."
"Thanks, Mrs. Banks."
Tim walked out to the pool area and said hello to Mr. Banks and Sandy's two brothers. They had just exchanged the usual pleasantries when Sandy walked out with her mother. Tim worked to hide his smile when he saw that Sandy was wearing a green sundress. It ended about two inches above her knee, with thin straps over her shoulders and two pockets on the front. "Please," he thought to himself, "oh, please." Sandy saw his response and smiled.
"Hey, Tim," she said. "I'm ready whenever you are."
Tim correctly assumed that this was an invitation to escape from communing with the parents. "Ok. We'd better get going, then. I need to get ready for class tomorrow," he fibbed.
As everyone moved toward the front door, Tim grabbed Sandy's suitcase and headed for the car. Fifteen minutes later, after Sandy and her mother had finally finished saying their goodbyes, they were off. When they were out of sight of the house, Tim took Sandy's hand and kissed it.
"Hey, babe," he said. "How are you this morning?"
"I feel good. I'm looking forward to getting back to your apartment, though."
"I know. Being with the family gets old, once you've moved out. By the way," he said, tweaking her in the side, "what do you have on under there?"
"Why Mr. Martin. That is a very impertinent question to ask a lady," she responded in a put-on Southern drawl, as she fanned her face with her hand.
"I'm not asking a lady, I'm asking you," he teased. "And what is that, your Scarlet O'Hara imitation?"
"As a matter of fact, it is," she laughed. "I didn't think you would recognize it."
"So what DO you have on under there?" he said, moving his hand to caress her bare thigh.
"Fiddle-de-de, Mr. Martin," she said, grabbing his hand. "You'll just have to wait. There's a time and place for everything, and this is not it. If you're a good little boy, though, you just might find out. In time. If you're lucky. Maybe."
"You are a real cockteaser, you know that?"
"Why sir," she replied, her hands moving to her face in mock indignation, "I am shocked by your suggestion. It's enough to give me the vapors. I need to cool down," she continued, as she flapped the hem of her dress suggestively.
"You are so mean. You know what you do to me, don't you."
"Yep. Sure do. And I love it," she replied, teasingly, rubbing his thigh.
All the way back to school they joked, teased and played with each other. Tim discovered Sandy wasn't wearing a bra when she asked him to scratch an imaginary itch on her back. He felt no bra straps, and Sandy knew that he knew.
Tim's favorite game was to have Sandy sit cross-legged on the car seat. After promising not to touch her, he convinced her to pull the hem of her dress up as far as she dared. He would then pass a semi, slowing to match its speed as he approached the semi's door. Giving the truck driver a good view of Sandy's long, lean legs and a tease of what's between them, he stayed there until Sandy's complaints started to get serious. Tim noticed that as they drove she allowed him to stay next to the truck driver's door longer and longer, and she started caressing her thighs suggestively as they passed the trucks. Apparently, she was enjoying the non-threatening exposure.
When they pulled in for a "gas and potty break," Tim played one more card. Noticing that it was windy as he pulled up to the gas pump, he made a suggestion.
"You know, your dress COULD accidentally flip up in the back as you got out of the car. In this wind, no one would know you did it on purpose."
"Good luck with that," she laughed. "Maybe in your dreams."
Tim focused on getting his seatbelt off and his wallet out when out of the corner of his eye he saw the hem of Sandy's dress falling down.
"Hey!" He shouted.
"Sorry, bud. You missed it," she laughed as she walked away from the car, swinging her hips suggestively. "Your loss; you should have been paying attention to me."
"You are such a bitch," he laughed.