Hartstein (A Hartstein Story) - Cover

Hartstein (A Hartstein Story)

Copyright© 2016 by Paris Waterman

Chapter 5

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 5 - Paul Hartstein an aspiring, but unpublished author, opens our story by calling on his friends Jim and Celia Masters. Only Jim isn't home. Celia recalls only too well the times she shared Paul's bed back in college. But that's just the opening chapter.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Cheating   Wife Watching   Light Bond   Rough   Spanking   Group Sex   Orgy   Oriental Female   Anal Sex   Analingus   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Sex Toys   Squirting   Voyeurism   Big Breasts   Public Sex   Size   Small Breasts  

Sexual Reminisces

With everyone trying to recover from the avalanche of sex that the four had launched, Jim went to the kitchen and without asking, made everyone a much stronger drink, double shots of tequila for the girls and double scotches for the guys.

Celia, nude except for a Tee top she’d thrown on after her watching Paul fuck her friend, and occasional lover, Joanna. Both men remained nude, while Joanna had a towel draped across her lower extremities.

It wasn’t long before a second round was needed, and Paul got up to do the honors. As he poured the liquor into a fresh set of glasses, he asked the others, “What do we do next? I mean, I’m all for another session...” he pointed to his semi-flaccid penis and added, “but my friend, and yours...” he grinned and nodded at Joanna, “appear to be in need of a brief respite.”

Jim stood up and flipped his penis with two fingers and said, “My guy’s not dead, but he sure needs a transfusion of sorts ... I wonder, Joanna could you give me an energy transfusion?”

Everyone laughed, and as Paul brought the drinks back to the others, Joanna sank down to her knees, ready to comply with Jim’s request.

“Hey, hey,” Paul chirped, not revealing any rancor at Jim for asked Joanna for a blowjob. “Don’t make the poor girl waste all that sucking power on your limp dick. Let’s do something creative.”

“Like what?” Celia asked, showing interest.

“Mmmm, yeah,” Joanna said from her kneeling position.

“Well, we could all use some ... refresher time, so what if we entertained one another with how we had our first introductions to sex?”

“Ewe!” Celia gasped. “First times suck!”

“Oh now you’ve gone and spoiled the ending of your story!” Paul chided, obviously kidding her. Everyone, Celia included laughed at his quick response.

Paul waited a moment and then said, “What I meant was we tell about our initial sexual experiences. If the first time was a bummer, skip it and go to that really good first time. If we appear entertained by your story, keep going until you feel you have to stop.

Celia jumped in saying: “You mean like telling something that the others may not know about?”

“Yeah, that’s the idea,” Paul answered.

“Well then,” Celia said, “Me and my college roomie used to go down on each other, pretending Jim had just come in us.”

Jim nearly spat out his drink as the words left her mouth because that was not at all where he thought the conversation was going.

“Can you say that again?” Paul asked, leaning in closer. Celia’s blush was slight, but obvious, and he wondered if she had meant to say it out loud.”And for the record, who’s the ‘we’ you refer too?”

Celia brightened at the question, and quickly replied, “That would have been Jacqueline. Remember her guys? I don’t think Joanna ever met her. She left school during sophomore year. Preggers, you know?”

“I didn’t know...” Jim said.

“I never met her, at least I don’t recall having met her,” Paul said.

Celia was quick to pick up on her husband’s weak reply. “You didn’t know? Could you have been the one to knock her up?”

“Umm, Paul interjected, “This is going off track, guys.”

“I just want to know if Jim here, knocked up my roomie,” Celia was pissed, or appeared so.

Taking a deep breath, Jim answered his wife’s accusation. “No, I certainly didn’t knock her up. The closest thing to sex I ever had with her was bumping into her tits by accident when coming out of your bathroom one time. I didn’t know she was coming in at the same time I was going out.”

“I know,” Celia said with a smug smile. I just wanted to bust your balls, baby!”

“CELIA!” Jim yelled in exasperation. Joanna and Paul clutched each other while they laughed at the trick Celia had pulled on her husband.

“Is there any story here, Celia, or are you busting all our humps?” Paul inquired.

“Oh, yeah, sorry guys ... Jacqueline and I wanted Jim, you know, we girls fantasize. Anyway, we took turns, wondering what it would be like if we hooked up with you.”

“Now you tell me you were all hot for me!” Jim laughed and both women joined him.

“I used to make stories up, just to tease her ... I’d tell her I heard you getting it on with some girl a door or two down the hall, or that we’d just finished a quickie in the alley down the street. Jackie wanted to hear this shit ... can you believe it? I mean, I’m making it up as I go along and she knows what I’m doing, but still get’s hotter than a two dollar pistol from my telling her a piece of fiction.”

“People relate to fiction,” Paul said matter-of-factly, “I should know, I make a living at it.”

“Don’t I know it?” Celia said giddily. I mean like, I’d stumble into the room and tell her it had happened. Then I’d push her down onto my bed, my hand in her hair as she begged to hear more. By the time I felt her mouth on my thigh she was practically cumming and I was right behind her. She dove in, eating my pussy like she was crazy. ‘I can taste him’ she’d moan, fucking me with her tongue. ‘I can taste his cum inside you.’”

Paul leaned back and took a drink, wondering if he had been that clueless in school or on reconsidering the decent number of girls he’d had in college, perhaps it was the present day that he was being foolish.

“I wish you had told me, honey,” Jim finally said, kissing Celia’s fingers. “I mean, I might have been able to help.”

“It was just a fantasy, baby,” she said with a shrug. “Besides, it was the only way I could get her to go down on me. Sometimes you have to be creative.”

And that set the tone for the next forty-seven minutes.


Joanna broke her silence at that point to say, “Well I’m ready to fess up about my first time, or should I say times?”

“Tell us anyway you want too, Joanna.” Paul said softly, having noticed her hand clenching the towel on her lap.

“I guess everything started when I was in high school. Back then my ass and legs were already shapely, although my chest had barely started developing. My girl friends and I were coming home from a movie. It had started to rain and we didn’t want to walk, so we called Cynthia’s dad and he rescued us and picked us up in front of the theatre. In recent months I’d often caught him checking me out the sneaky way men, especially fathers do, which always creeped me out. Anyway, I wound up in the front seat sitting next to him. Cynthia and my other two girl friends were in the back. Why Cynthia wasn’t up front has always puzzled me, and I wondered if she and her father planed it that way.”

“Why would you say that?” Celia asked.

“Let me tell the story, please, Celia, okay?”

“Yeah ... sorry.”

“It was late and while the drive wasn’t all that long, we girls all lived a distance apart. That’s another reason why I wondered why I was sitting up front. Well, I didn’t have all that long to wonder about it.

We were all starting to fall asleep. Suddenly I felt Cynthia’s dad’s hand on my leg.” Joanna raised an eyebrow as she spoke her next words. “Of course, being smart ass high school girls, we just had to wear the shortest skirts possible. By that I mean, the max our parents would allow.

“So there I was looking down at his hand moving from my knee to the upper portion of my thigh. I coughed once to see if that would get him to take his hand off, but he pretended like nothing was happening.

I really was at a loss as what to do. I mean, had it been a high school senior, I’d have smacked the hand away. I was embarrassed, worse I didn’t want my girlfriends to wake up with me fighting Cynthia’s dad off. So I stayed silent.

Then his hand was under my skirt. As short as it was he wasn’t too far away from pay dirt, you know?”

I tried to stop him, but two things happened. One, he was stronger than me. Two, he lost control of the car and nearly wrecked it; but managed to gain control and just kept driving. His hand never left my thigh. I figured he’d rather kill us all than take his fuckin’ hand away, so I gave in.

“So there he was, hand between my legs. I tried to hold them together but, again, there wasn’t much I could do without waking everyone up. So I decided to just endure it, because I knew we’d be home soon.

He started rubbing my pussy through my panties. I felt helpless to stop him. It was humiliating. I felt even more humiliated when I started feeling pleasure from what he was doing to me.

Oh the bastard did quite the job on my clit. He knew what he was doing, He rubbed it and he tweaked it, had me wetter than I get in the shower. I had to bite my lip to stop from moaning,

and then my orgasm hit me. I couldn’t help moaning, but it was through clenched teeth and the radio was on, so my girlfriends didn’t wake up.

But I gotta tell ya, it was the most intense and pleasurable orgasm I had ever had. It lasted forever. My whole body shook, and I felt like a flood of pleasure flowed from my toes to the tips of my fingers.

And Cynthia’s dad knew it.

Later that year I lost my virginity. Yeah ... the fucking Prom, doesn’t everyone? He was a hunky college guy I’d just started dating. I suppose you want to know how he rated in the Richter Scale orgasm-wise ... so let’s just say it was okay. It didn’t hurt, but I didn’t get off either. Still, I was happy to no longer be a virgin.

“Just two more ... shall we say, incidents and I’m done. So ... in my school you had to get at least a C+ average in all your classes, or you couldn’t play sports. During my senior year I failed the mid-term math exam, and I was about to be kicked off the cheerleading squad. I felt like my life was ruined. I begged the math teacher, Mr. Jorgenson, to let me re-take the exam. He agreed, but he said I first had to take extra lessons after school, or else I’d probably just fail it again.

Now Sigmund the shrink might take issue with what follows; but what did I know at eighteen, anyway? Well, I knew how to tease guys and I impishly decided to tease Mr. Jorgenson during the after school study sessions.

Sooo, first day, first session, I wore a snug turtleneck that showed off my little girl apples, the mandatory short skirt, white tights and flats. Typical attire for the average teenage slut, right?”

I purposely fidgeted in my seat, crossing and re-crossing my legs and letting my skirt inch up my thighs. Mr. Jorgenson sat at his desk and quizzed me, all the while ogling my legs.

The next day I intentionally dressed like a school girl, knowing older men like Mr. Jorgenson liked that. I’d seen a recent copy of Hustler and followed the starlet’s dress to a T. Well I wore undies, she didn’t, but you see where I’m going with this, right?

There I was short pleated skirt, starched tailored blouse, knee high socks and saddle shoes. I had to endure my friend’s comments, “Saddle shoes? Ugh, where’d you find them?”

But it was worth it. The whole time I felt Mr. Jorgenson’s eyes on me. When I spoke he didn’t look at my face. Instead he looked at my mouth, like he was imagining what it would be like to kiss me, or feel my lips around his you-know-what.

It went on like this for three days. I have to admit, teasing him turned me on. It was thrilling to have this type power over him. Every night I played with myself to an incredible orgasm.

I came down to Earth on Friday when I re-took the test, but only got a C-. I was devastated, and knew I’d be kicked out of cheerleading. I was near tears when I felt Mr. Jorgenson’s hand on my arm. His eyes were on my chest. “I know cheerleading is important to you,” he said. “There might be something you can do to raise your grade ... if you can keep a secret.”

I felt his hand on my back, tracing along my bra strap. “I won’t do that,” I said warily. Teasing was one thing, but I wasn’t going to prostitute myself.

“No, no, not that,” he said hurriedly.

“Then -- what do you want?”

He looked nervous. Looking back, I know he planned all of this from the start, but he knew how much trouble he’d be in if he got caught.

“Do you swear you’ll never tell anyone?” he said. He tried to sound domineering, but I sensed his uneasiness. “If you say anything, I’ll deny it all and get you expelled. Getting kicked out of cheerleading will be the least of your worries.”

I nodded. I didn’t know what to expect, but his nervousness made me feel more confident, despite his threats.

“Take off your shoes,” he demanded.

“What?” looking bewildered.

“Please,” he practically pleaded, abruptly losing his domineering demeanor.

I stepped out of my flats. He ogled my feet, and then his eyes moved up my legs. “Turn around and walk to the wall, and then walk back slowly.”

I did as he asked. It was weird, but harmless. The entire time his eyes hungrily ogled my legs and feet.

“So beautiful,” he said longingly. “Now pull up your skirt.”

He saw the alarm on my face and quickly added, “I won’t touch you! I just want to look!”

He hadn’t touched me – other than briefly rubbing my back – and I could always scream or run away. The door was closed, but not locked. So I felt safe. I lowered my hands and raised my skirt.

“Please, more, and slowly,” he begged, when I stopped just below my panties.

I couldn’t believe the change in Mr. Jorgenson. Just moments ago he had been the dominating teacher. Now he was practically groveling at my feet. I couldn’t believe how much power I had over him. It aroused me. “Do you promise to give me an A?” I asked, wanting to test my new found power. “Not just for this test, but for the rest of the year?”

“Yes!” he agreed immediately. “Now, please, just raise your skirt, I want to see...”

I raised my skirt to my waist. My white tights weren’t quite opaque, so he could see through to my lacy bikini panties.

“Are you a virgin?” he asked, the words almost catching in his dry throat.

“No,” I answered truthfully. I wasn’t very experienced – having only done it once – but didn’t say that.

He moaned, like my confession had given him physical pleasure. He fumbled at his zipper, and took out his penis. It was hard, and he started whacking off, not taking his eyes off my crotch. The knowledge that I caused such a reaction in him made me flush with arousal. So when he asked -- “Can I touch you, just a little?” – I nodded my head. I wanted him touching me in a big way.

He covered my mound with his hand. “You’re so wet,” he said, and I knew it was true. I moaned when he rubbed me, desperately wanting the pleasure and release of my rapidly approaching orgasm.

Suddenly our roles were reversed again, with him having the upper hand. He rubbed me harder and faster, and I clung to him for support. He probably felt my breath against his chest as I panted into his shirt.

He knew I needed release, and that gave him confidence. “I knew you weren’t a virgin,” he hissed into my ear. “You’ve been teasing me on purpose, haven’t you?”

“Yeah,” I moaned. At that moment I would’ve said anything to keep him rubbing me, although in this case my admission was the truth.

He grunted, satisfied. “I knew it! You’re a dirty teasing slut, a cock teaser, admit it!”

Surprisingly, I found his taunting a real turn on. Instinctively I began playing along. “You’re right, I like to tease; it turns me on!”

He stopped playing with himself, and with that free hand, he groped my small breasts. “A slut, that’s what you are, and you fuck them after you tease them, don’t you slut, don’t you?” he sneered, rubbing my nipples through my blouse and bra.

Mr. Jorgenson’s rough handling of my pussy and breasts was too much for me and I came, shuddering through an almost violent orgasm. I collapsed into his chest, and he immediately began humping me. Wearing panties and tights, there wasn’t a chance he could penetrate me, which is good because I’m not sure I’d have the will to stop him. But he didn’t seem to care. In fact, he seemed to savor the feel of my wool tights against his penis. Within moments he grunted, and then I felt a warm wetness spreading over my tights.

“Oh, wow, that was soooo hot, Joanna,” Celia cooed.

“Damn right!” Jim agreed.

Paul shook his head, “This is turning out much better than I thought it would.”

“I’m not quite finished,” Joanna said with a wry smile.

“Continue on,” Paul said gallantly waving her on.

“Anyway, I graduated without letting Mr. Jorgenson go any further than he had ... although there were some days and nights I would have welcomed his cock, you know?

“But this is the part I’ve never, ever even hinted at to anyone that wasn’t there at the time. I can’t believe I’m going to tell you guys about it now!”

“C’mon, Jo, you’ve got me salivating,” Jim said. His erection had returned and was pointed at the ceiling. Joanna caught sight of it and licked her lips, but decided she had to finish the story.

Joanna took a deep breath, noticing that her chest was still a favorite object of attention of everyone in the room and felt a twinge of pleasure in her vagina.

Then she began. “Okay, of all things I was asked to house sit for Cynthia’s family. Her Dad of all people! I was to live there for a month while they went to Alaska as a reward for Cynthia’s graduating high school.

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