Chapter 6

Barb’s turn:

I’m a fallen woman, according to certain literature. Actually, that is incorrect. I retain my virginity, having never lain with a man, if I use archaic terminology. But, wow, Paul and I came close.

‘Came’ being the operative term. Those schoolground tales of ‘dry-humping’? Past a certain point they do not account for unusual amounts of moisture, both mine and my somewhat reluctant partner’s.

I don’t think either of us intended to go as far as we did, but between MY teasing and Paul’s battered self-restraint, we ended up on the sofa with me atop him rubbing the proper parts together to the point of ... Just WOW!

I’m a somewhat normal teenaged girl with regard to my sexual self. I discovered masturbation on my own and I have to think that I’m good at it. To use clinical terms, I find clitoral stimulation quite, well, stimulating, and I have discovered that a finger or two into an opening made to accept penetration is a useful addition. I can make myself orgasm, cum, if you will, in a few happy minutes.

I thought that I was not only doing it right, but because it was mine, I was achieving the optimum results.

Imagine my surprise when Paul and I lost our minds and I ended up dry-humping him on his sofa. And. I. CAME!!!

Incidentally, so did Paul, but my eyes were opened to whole new vistas of sexual excitement.

And did I mention that I love him? Well, I do. Fact is that I loved him before I used him to cum my brains out, to lapse into schoolyard vernacular. Yes, Gramma explained the term ‘schoolgirl vernacular’ to me when I was eight. She says it’s good to have and use a vocabulary, although doing so may get one designated as any of several names for outside the crowd.

But I did. And he did. And for a bit we stayed in the same position, me on top of him where we could kiss as I experienced the first post-orgasmic bliss with a partner ever.

Partner? I promise. Forever.

Paul wiggled. “Babe, I got an uncomfortable mess that needs attention.”

It took us a bit of effort to untangle so he could finally stand. When he did, I grabbed his belt and started unbuckling.

“Barb! What are you doing?!?”

“You need attention. This is attention.”

The belt was easy, as was the button and zipper and before he could catch my hands his shorts were at his knees.

I giggled. The BLUE briefs today. He has several colors. I’ve peeked up a pants leg or two. “You’re not kidding. The whole front is soaked.”

I guess I was supposed to be repulsed and let out a big ‘eewwwwww!’ but I was responsible for this mess, so a fingertip...

“Oh god, Barbakitten! You’re gonna kill me.”

“Just a little touch. Not like us rubbing each other silly a minute ago...” This time, finger and thumb. It’s sticky. Thick.

“I need a shower.”

“Good idea,” I retorted. As he tugged his shorts back up, I unsnapped the first shoulder strap of my overalls.

“What are you doing, Barb?” he asked.

“Shower.” I dropped my overalls to my feet, stood there in panties – very WET panties – and T-shirt. “Are you really fighting me for this?”

“Barb, you scare me.”

“Why? What did I do?”

“It’s not about what you did. It’s about what you are.”

“I am what I am. Can’t change it. And what are you talking about?”

“You’re a fourteen year old girl, and fourteen year old girls have cooties.”

“WE DO NOT! At least I don’t!”

“Yes, you do, and fourteen year old girl cooties are sticky.”

“What are you talking about, and how would you know?”

“I remember another fourteen year old girl, probably when you were a year old. Maybe a little later.”

“What happened?”

“She took advantage of my youth and innocence. Sticky cooties.”

“What was her name?”

“Gina Statutori. Italian, I think.”

“You think I’m taking advantage of your youth and innocence?”

“Yes ma’am. I do.”

I tiptoed and kissed him on his lips. “All you have to do is say ‘stop’.”

“One of us needs to have some sense, baby.”

“No, we don’t.” I grinned. “We’re both here and we’re in love and being a little bit crazy and it feels wonderful, so – shower!” I grabbed the hem of that T-shirt and skinned it straight over my head,

I heard Paul’s breath catch.

Keep up the pressure, Barb. “Hopeless?”

“Beautiful.”

“D’ya need help? You have more clothes on than I do.” The crotch of my panties was saturated, sticky.

“Okay, here goes,” he said. “Felony in progress,” and he pulled his shirt off, then slid his briefs down.

Okay, there’s a penis. A dick, if we’re back in the vernacular. Paul’s, and by inference, mine.

So I keep up my end of the bargain and slide my sticky panties down. Fighting bashfulness (why’s that showing up NOW?!?), I stood, looked into his eyes. Saw something I liked, so I took a step forward into his arms.

“I am soooo guilty...”

“I’m guilty too, Paul. I love you.” And participated in my first nude kiss.

“I love you forever and ever, even from my prison cell, Barb.”

“You won’t go to prison, baby. Let’s wash my panties. Short cycle ‘em. They’ll dry fast.”

Now I’m amused, smiling. First time I ever watched a naked man walking around. Fascinating to see stuff swinging.

“Don’t freak out, Paul,” I said as he came near. “I wanna touch it.” My eyes darted back and forth between his eyes and that meaty tube that, as I was watching, went from a forty-five degree down angle to forty-five degrees UP and got noticeably longer.

Fascinating. I reached my hand out, gently wrapping fingers around it. He moaned. “Oh, Barbbbb...”

“Shower,” I said. “It’s all sticky. I wanna...” And I led him to the shower.

Takes a minute for the water to get warm so we’re standing there nude, facing each other and I touch his dick again.

“I could get used to that,” he said. “Barb, I’m not exactly used to this.”

“So you’re not used to it and it’s my first time. This promises to be interesting.”

So we showered. I can’t remember the last time somebody participated in my bathing. I love it. I love sharing that, too. Hands all over a male body belonging to this guy for whom I harbor extraordinary fondness.

“It just needs rinsing off,” he commented as I detailed his dick and – wow! So interesting! – scrotum. “Balls,” he noted. “Gentle.”

“I’ve heard.” I employed soap to shampoo that nest of hair. “A thought occurs,” I posed.

“I’m listening.”

“I may have to do further investigation but I don’t think pubic hair is my thing...”

His fingers traced a trail of ecstasy across my pubic lump downward to... “OMIGOD! Paul!”

He stopped. “Off limits?”

“Nooooo...” I sighed. “I don’t have much hair and it’s so light-colored it looks like none.”

“I can feel it. Tickles my fingertips.”

Rinsed each other off. Got out of the shower, toweling off. “I can’t believe we’re finally ... Paul, I wanted us to be together.”

“Well, this is very together, baby.” He emphasized that fact by drawing me back against him. Touched my TITS!

He put his lips close to my ear and whispered “Barb, you’re beautiful, sexy, smart, exciting, and I love you. We don’t have to do any of this baby.”

I twisted around in his arms, insinuated myself into full contact, my front to his, the difference in our heights putting his dick at my belly. A slight tilt of my head and I kissed a man nipple. He quivered.

“That’s a reply.” I shook my wet head. “And you need to get me a hair dryer here. And I’ll bring over a change of clothes.”

“You’re awfully assured...”

“I know my Paul. He’ll be mine forever, as I will be his.”

“That part is true.”

“I know it is. Come on, let’s go play...” and I walked from the bathroom to his bedroom.

“There’s never been another person in this bedroom besides you, little one.”

“Keep it that way. Me and you. OUR bed.”

He turned back the covers. I jumped in the middle. “C’mon! This is all new to me.”

“It just as well be new to me, Barb. Time starts fresh with you.”

I giggled. “Good! Lay down right here!” I commanded, patting the center of the bed.

By the time his butt hit the bed, he was HUGE. (Okay, a bit of discussion and research. It was huge since it’s the first one I’ve seen close up. I found out it’s a normal six inches) I had to explore.

“Does this feel good?” I asked as I discovered how it could be both soft and hard. The skin slides delightfully over a hot, hard inner shaft and there’s a deliciously spongy tip at the end with a curious ridge and a little opening that opens like a mouth when I play with that spongy head.

And now... “Is that what was all over the inside of your drawers?”

“Some of it. That’s a lubricant to make intercourse more pleasant. Most of the stuff in my drawers was semen. Some people call it cum. That’s the part that carries sperm. It comes out when I...”

“Cum,” I interjected. “Heard that at school. Girls cum. Boys cum. You can learn a lot if you listen to the wrong groups.”

“Seems like you absorbed a lot of knowledge,” Paul said. He gasped as I cupped my fingers under his balls. “Ohgodthat’sgood!”

My other hand grasped his shaft and squeezed and tugged. A big drop of clear fluid formed on the head of his dick. “Fascinating,” I said. I put my fingertip into that globule and pulled back, leaving a string between my finger and the droplet. Rubbed finger and thumb together. Consistency is familiar.

“I gotta know,” I said.

“Know what?”

I scooped the remainder of the droplet off the end of Paul’s dick and stuck it into my mouth. Discovery!