Chapter 8

Wednesday, 22 August 2018

Holy. Fucking. Hell.

What an evening and night! I couldn’t write in my journal until I got home from practice today, but that might have been a good thing. I’m a little more settled after practice and having more time pass between my incredible time with Brett and writing about it could be a very good thing.

First, most of the LA were in their big Ford vehicle when they took me home, and each of them kissed Brett on the way over. I became a bit teary at that, because it felt like they were ... happy to share him with me. I know we have an agreement about that, and I also know that Brett’s his own person. However, I can’t imagine any non-LA girl ... maybe also any non-The Team girl being so willing to have one of their guys introduce another girl to intercourse. And so much so as to drive him to the girl’s house and act eager about him spending the entire night with the girl.

Fuck. My life has become fucking crazy ... and I find this new life almost too fucking enjoyable!

And when we got to my house, every fucking one of those girls kissed ME! Every one of them wished me a wonderful night!

I wonder if those girls think like I’ve begun thinking that we’ve drifted into some alternate universe in which the ... not the rules ... but the governing principles of that universe are different from the universe in which I used to reside. I mean, more than 30 girls sharing the same two guys? And being happy about it?

Yeah, very different freaking universe! But ... you know what? I fucking LOVE this universe.

Or, perhaps I’m lying in a hospital bed somewhere in a coma and my brain has created this universe, one that’s much more suited to me than the one outside my unresponsive body. If so, I don’t want to wake up. In this universe, my dad allows me to be in charge at our house, to fashion the rule set under which we live.

Okay, I’m supposed to be writing about last night, so let me get to it.

Holy. Fucking. Hell. What a night Brett made my first time ... No, he made each of my first four times spectacular. And, damn, I now understand why so many think sex is so fucking wonderful! And I thought Brett kissing my bare breasts on the trip to Santa Fe was great, and it was, but intercourse with Brett? Making love with Brett?

Yes. Holy. Fucking. Hell!

First off, and this was the most surprising part of the trip in the Ford to my house. When Celeste pulled behind the house in the driveway, those girls – who had already surprised me with kisses and well wishing – insisted on Brett removing my clothes in the Ford and on me removing his. They said that since my house has a clothing-optional policy, that we should start our time together at my house in correct fashion. Why do they so love sharing their guys? Yeah, it’s either the coma or the alternate universe. I can think of no other rational explanation.

He was fully erect before I got his clothes off of him, and once we were both naked, the girls insisted that we wrap each other up in front of them and kiss like we loved each other.

H.F.H! By the time we pulled back from each other’s faces, I was willing for him to take me right then and there, on the floor of the Ford with the LA girls as audience. I think Beth can read minds.

She said, “You’re probably now willing to have him fuck you into the floor of the Ford. Don’t. It may be cliché, but that cliché is true. You want your first time to be as magical as you can make it. Em...”

Her using my nickname was almost as wonderful as the kiss I’d just shared with Brett. Not really, but Beth is the alpha girl in a group comprised mostly of alpha girls.

I returned to reality only a word or two later.

“ ... the floor of the Ford with a huge audience is something for later in your relationship, and if you’re anything like a lot of us, you’ll find that to be a fucking wonderful experience. Your first time, though, needs to be for you and your lover, no one else.

“Don’t be nervous, even though you probably will be. Brett’s done this a lot. Let him lead if you’re nervous, but also learn to lead. He’s good for a lot of sex, as his stamina is great. Sex, particularly intercourse, should be a sharing ... of everything, including leading and following. If you have an idea of something you want, tell him what that is. Brett is wonderful, but he can’t actually read minds. Be open with each other. Above all, enjoy yourself with him.”

Beth then planted the most incredible soft, short kiss on my lips, then urged me to lead ... my first guy into my house. My house. My lover. My boyfriend. I’m not positive that she implied all those things with that kiss and simple wave of the hand leading to the house, but I inferred them. And, I thought, with how those girls think, Brett is my lover, my boyfriend.

Last week, with the then-current anger I felt for my father, I would gladly have not let him know I was bringing a boy home who would spend the night with me and introduce me to intercourse and, hopefully, making love. With the now relationship with him, I would warn him about what was coming.

I simply never thought of it in the euphoria I felt at having Brett Freaking Jacobs be my first male lover. So, when he was sitting in the kitchen as we entered the house, my heart dropped at what I had just done to my dad.

“Oh,” Dad said. He was obviously surprised, but recovered much more quickly than I did, standing, holding out a hand, and saying, “Hi. I’m Den. Welcome. Would you like a drink or snack or something?” He smacked himself on the forehead, then asked, “What am I doing? You two obviously have a goal in mind that doesn’t involve food. At least, not food for the stomach. Food for the soul? Yes, that’s the food you want.

He turned to me and said, “I’ll stay out of your hair. I hope you have a wonderful time.”

His quick acceptance and upbeat tone threw me for a loop, but his last words broke through my surprise, and I managed at least the barest requirements of the situation.

“Dad, this is Brett Jacobs. Brett, this is my dad, Den.”

I think I might already love him. Brett, that is.

He held his hand out and said as Dad joined his hand with Brett’s, “It’s nice to meet you. You’ve got a wonderful daughter, and I don’t say that because she invited me to spend the night with her. I accepted her invitation because she’s such a wonderful young woman.”

I’ve heard that girls introducing boyfriends to dads can be fraught with anxiety, even under normal conditions. With all three of us naked for that introduction, I nearly lost my dinner, I was so nervous. I think I might already love Brett, as his calmness in a situation so far removed from normality that it, like me, must be in a different universe made that introduction go ... okay.

Dad had a little trouble letting it go, and said, “I’ll be up for a while, so if either of you need anything, feel free to help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen.” He looked at me then said, “I wish you the very best.”

“That’s exactly why Brett’s here. Your wish has already come true ... as has mine.”

When we got to my room doorway, I was already nervous, but that open doorway reminded me of the house rules, and that intensified the mad fluttering of the butterflies in my stomach.

Have I written, yet, that I might already love Brett? I’m sure I do at some level. He detected my heightened nervousness and laid my fears, rather than me, but behaving as if nothing at all was out of the ordinary here in my room with the open door. He lured me into a conversation about the soccer team. A conversation that he subtly led to our mutual analysis of how it is that an entire girls’ soccer team could become what the premier team had become: A set of friends so strong that all of them could be sexual in the same room, that they would come to want, not just put up with, to share sex among themselves, and with just two guys.

Looking back, I can’t think of how that discussion didn’t exacerbate my nervousness. I think it worked because that was all in the past and had been so enjoyable, so wonderful, for me, and because it alluded to my very first sexual experience with someone other than myself: Brett’s wonderful kissing of me and, particularly, of my breasts. I’ve orgasmed many times since then recalling how that felt, how gentle he was with me when I needed it to be gentle, and how he’d ramped up the intensity once I’d become comfortable with him being sexual with my breasts.

Brett did the same thing last night, just on a different scale. As we talked about him kissing my breasts on the trip north, he began sort of acting it out. He must have taken at least 20 minutes for his kisses to travel somewhere other than my breasts, and he didn’t go south from there. Instead, he kissed from my left breast up to my left shoulder and spent a frustratingly long, wonderful time just kissing on and around that shoulder.

H. F. H.

At that point, I was putty, but he still didn’t go for the gold. Instead, he spent some five minutes kissing across my upper chest to my right shoulder, where he repeated his actions of the other shoulder.

With my pussy on fire, I tried to get him to get more active with me, but he easily negated my efforts, then spent some 10-15 minutes kissing my neck, then more time kissing both ears and all over my face. I have no idea how much time he spent just placing his puckered lips on relatively non-erogenous parts of me, but it could easily have been an hour, maybe even more.

My pussy was an inferno before he had touched me any place particularly interesting with anything other than his lips, but when he began heading southward from another long session of kissing on my breasts, I began writhing on the bed below him. Fucking goddess, it was so frustrating, but also so very incredible.

And, then, he surprised me by suddenly moving his mouth to my pussy and with just one long lick from bottom to top and a hard stab by his tongue against my clit, I fucking rocketed into the best orgasm of my life.

I didn’t know if I screamed or not. I knew nothing other than the outrageous and ungodly pleasure he sent through my whole body with that action. The incredibly long buildup was spectacular, even when it was also frustrating, but the surprising and incredibly rapid transition from absolute sensual delight to the best fucking orgasm of my life had me at least incoherent for quite some time. I admit that the following languor I felt loosened my tongue from its control by my brain. It said some things that ... I probably would not have said had I been in any other state.

“Are you alright? Oh, yes, I can see you’re more than just alright. I apologize for interrupting.”

“It’s okay, Dad. Fucking Hell, Dad. He just spent at least an hour kissing me, and with nearly all of that from my breasts up. After an incredible sensual experience, he suddenly licked my pussy from bottom to top and stabbed me in the clit with his tongue. Fu-uccccckkkk. I thought I’d given myself some good orgasms before, but even the best of those was nothing in comparison.”

“I’m surprised you’re willing to tell me anything, much less such details. Are you saying that you’ve still not had him inside you?”

“No, but if that’s the kind of orgasm he can give me just with his mouth, I might die if he gives me one with his cock.”

Saying that, particularly the last word, caused part of my mind to rouse and analyze my situation. When I realized that I had just told my father the details of my very first experience of a guy between my legs, I was embarrassed and just a little pissed off with myself ... and with Brett for making me lose my mind and tell my dad such things. I don’t know how, but Dad picked up on that.

“Don’t worry, Honey. I wish only the best for you, and it sounds like you’ve gotten that. I’ll leave you two alone, but I suggest that you do what you can to thank your boyfriend for such a wonderful time.”

I opened my eyes in ... I couldn’t think of how long ... and asked Brett, “Are you my boyfriend?”

“I’m your whatever you want of me: friend, boyfriend, lover, husband. Whatever.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for a husband, but with what you just did to me, I give you permission to do to or with me whatever the fuck you want. I’ve not even gotten you inside me, and you’ve already given me an orgasm so far beyond anything I’ve known before. Hell, you can fuck me in front of the team or The Team anytime you want. You can make love with me in your backyard with your wives watching. Brett, you can do any damned thing you want with me and ... very nearly ... anywhere you want. Holy fuck! Is this the sort of thing incredible sex does, Dad? Does it make me ... wanton?”

I was somewhat surprised that Dad was still there to answer, but I was still beyond caring.

“Apparently. Honey, I’m so ... pleased you had such a wonderful first experience like that. When I was Brett’s age, I was in it only for myself. I hope you hang onto him, as it’s obvious that he’s good for you.”

Brett beat me to saying something.

“Em, Love, I’ll be whatever you want. That was so incredibly enjoyable for me, too, as I get so much happiness and pleasure out of giving my girlfriends, lovers, and wives great orgasms. It is the single most wonderful aspect of being an LA member. We don’t know what the new agreement-slash-contract between the LA and The Team will be, but if it allows me to be your husband, I’ll happily be that for you. Even if it doesn’t, I really like you and I’d like for us to have more times together. You’re very lovely and I could easily see me falling in love with you.

“I’ve told the LA, my wives, this, but I enjoy ... and so very much ... giving my girlfriends, lovers, and wives orgasms, that I wish I could spend most of the rest of my life doing that. I love having orgasms, myself, but it’s so completely soul-satisfying to nearly knock out one of my lovers with an orgasm I give her.”

“Emma, daughter of mine, you need to hang onto this guy if those are his true sentiments.”

“Dad, I understand that fully and have no intention of letting him get away. However, if I’m to have him, I must share him with more than 30 other girls, and I doubt that number will do anything other than rise over the next few years. But you know what, Dad? I don’t care that I must share him with so many. I’d rather have one thirtieth of his time, than 100 percent of almost any other guy’s time. That’s because those 30 or more other girls ... as well as that other gorgeous and wonderful LA guy ... make the deal a winner.”

I managed to sit up in bed and look at my dad in my doorway. Yes, that was a fuckingly weird situation, but I was still in something of a languorous state, and I didn’t care.

I said, “Dad, if I find that I want that, I can probably have most or all of those 30 or more other girls as lovers. And, Dad, now that I know how wonderful multi-person sex can be, I’ll probably invite future lovers to spend the night here with me. We have an open-bedroom-door policy and ... Oh, that didn’t sound like what I meant, but you know what I mean. I’m still not completely sure why I ordered myself to always keep my bedroom door open. I knew why I wanted yours open, because I was scared of you behind your closed door, but I’m unsure of why I wanted mine open, but I’m not going to change it. If you hear or even see me with lovers in here, so be it.”

I looked at Brett, then turned back to Dad and told him, “Brett is always welcome in this house and in my bedroom. He may walk in the back door anytime he wants, and he may enter my room anytime he wants and do anything with me he wants. Dad, anything.”

I altered my tone to something softer and told him, “Thanks for getting me appointments and for getting me an IUD. I’ll be putting that to the test for the rest of the evening.”

With need and energy returning, I pulled Brett down onto my bed, got him oriented with his head to the foot of my bed rather than the head. Since he was still obviously fully erect, despite the recent and longish conversation, his penis stuck nearly straight up from his pelvis in an inviting way. I accepted the invitation by placing the head at the entrance to my core, as I’d seen online so many times, then slowly slid down onto it, my eyes locked with ... my dad’s.

Holy. Fucking. Hell! That felt even more incredible than I’d ever imagined. No wonder so many people are so gaga over intercourse.

Since Dad didn’t turn away, I kept my eyes on his while I did for the first time those motions I’d learned from online porn but used for the first time on a real, live penis.

Oh, fuck! Intercourse should come with government warnings as to its addictive properties, like cigarettes. I’d been doing it for only 20 seconds or so, but I was already addicted. My eyes closed at the intense pleasure, and a low moan escaped my throat. When Dad moaned, I snapped my eyes back open to see his eyes focused on my crotch, on my pussy filled for the first time ever with an erection, with a hard penis, a white hard penis. I watched Dad’s face as I slowly rose, revealing part of that hard, white penis.

Dad’s eyes half-closed and another quiet grunt-moan escaped his lips, and that caused my eyelids to close again. I rose slowly on Brett’s cock because I didn’t want him slipping out and I had no experience that would let me know at what point that could happen. When I reversed course, Dad’s eyes half-closed again.

H. F. H.

Who knew that my dad could get pleasure watching me ride another guy’s cock, and a white cock at that. I didn’t at all care about the color of the cock, because I was already half in love with that cock’s owner and fully in love with that cock. Oh, my fucking god, Brett’s penis in my pussy felt so fuckingly incredibly good! I could also discern that I was getting an extra hit of excitement having my father watch me making love with the first cock ever in my pussy. I decided then that my dad deserved a little present for being so good about getting me an IUD and for not objecting to me bringing a guy home for the first time ever. I let him watch ... the ... whole ... damned ... thing. I don’t know how long I slowly rose and fell on Brett’s wonderfully hard cock, but I reveled in it. Occasionally, Dad would look at my face rather than the cock going into and emerging from my pussy, and any time he saw the look of pleasure on my face, he moaned anew. That response increased my level of excitedness, which increased the frequency with which my face expressed that pleasure, which increased the frequency of Dad’s moans as he watched me having my first bout of intercourse.

At one point, I looked at Brett’s face. It wore such a look of ... adoration, that I tried lying down on him while keeping his penis in me. I was elated that it worked, and got even more elated when he returned the kiss I gave him, but much more intensely than the kiss I’d given him.

He semi-grunted, “I’m getting close, and that’s all your fault. You’re so beautiful riding me, your skin glistening from the sweat our lovemaking is generating, the incredible look of pleasure on your face. Em, I would not be at all averse to making love with you again ... and again and again. Goddess, this is ... magnificent!”