Chapter 8

I’m sure most of you have said, “If I only knew then what I know now,” on one or more occasions in your life. I know I have. And in more than one case, it had to do with women in general and Hannah in particular. It would have been nice, for example, to know that she was completely comfortable with our new relationship. I think that was for multiple reasons. One, she really did trust me. That sounds simple but it’s really quite complicated. Her trust was on multiple levels. She trusted me not to tell anybody she was having sex. She trusted me to do, basically, what she wanted and not to push for more. She trusted me to genuinely care about her and love her and keep loving her forever.

Another part of this is that a woman never forgets losing her virginity. If that happens under happy circumstances, then it’s a really good memory that can make her horny just by remembering it. Hannah’s “loss” had been under happy circumstances.

Yet another part was more mercenary. Not that there was any money involved, but I think that, in some ways, I think she reversed things on me. I had told her I wanted her to be my cum bucket. Yes I had been trying to shock her but the fact was that I didn’t want any other penises in her. Maybe ever. I knew that was ridiculous, but it was how I felt. Ironically, I think she thought of me as her own, personal, living dildo, or at least sex toy. Not that she was unfeeling about that. She assumed I felt the same way, or would, sooner or later. I was available, handy, a complete secret, and satisfying in the extreme. And it cost her nothing to get all that advantage.

Finally, as happens with some people, she assumed that what she believed was the truth, and inviolate. She was right about what she wanted for us. To her it was really that simple. She had faith that it would all work out and that nothing would go wrong.

I, on the other hand, wasn’t so complacent with things.

I worried about getting caught. I worried about getting her pregnant. I worried about people looking at me and knowing something was off, or strange, or something. I worried that I’d only been half kidding when I told her I wanted her to be my sex slave. Basically I worried about everything.

A confident woman, though, in the absence of violence or conspiracy and all that sort of thing, is an immutable force of nature. Hannah didn’t live in a world where anyone wanted to be violent with her, or conspire to ruin her dreams.

I won’t say we arrived at where we are today by along the primrose path. It wasn’t painless. But she knew what she wanted and she basically badgered me into compliance with her terms.

What were those terms? I wish I could list them. They became folded into my whole lifestyle. I can give examples, but that’s all.

One is that, after banishing me from her room so she could plot how to avoid dating without building Steve’s reputation, later that night she slipped into my room. She was wearing a T shirt and panties. She came to my bed and removed the panties immediately. Then she climbed on top of me and sat on my thighs.

“Hi,” she said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for her to act like she was acting.

I put my book down but said nothing.

“I need a favor,” she said.

“No,” I responded.

“Oh, come on,” she wheedled.

“No,” I said, stubbornly. At that point, it didn’t matter what the favor was. Doing the last favor for her was what got me into this pickle. Granted the favor I was thinking about had been done over a year earlier, but that didn’t matter. It was so strong in my mind that I responded to it verbally.

“If you want to tell Mom and Dad about me going to the mall instead of Kevin’s, fine. Tell them. No favors.”

She actually laughed, and then lay down on me and tried to kiss me. I turned my head but eventually she got what she wanted. I had to admit it was a nice kiss.

She pushed up on her arms and stared down at me.

“Everything will be fine,” she said. “I promise.”

“You can’t promise that,” I argued.

“We’ll be careful,” she said.

“What if Mom or Dad came in here and found you like this?”

“They’re asleep.”

“They could wake up.”

“When was the last time either of them came in your room after ten?”

I couldn’t answer that one. I tried to change the subject.

“What do you want?”

In answer, she pulled the T shirt over her head, making herself naked.

“I want you to suck my nipples,” she said.

“Damn, Hannah,” I groaned.

“You don’t want to? I suppose you’re tired of sucking all those nipples of the girls you take out on dates.”

“You know I don’t get that far,” I said.

“Neither did any of the guys I went out with,” she said. “I still want to know what it feels like, though.”

“If I do that I’ll get a boner and then you know what I’ll want to do,” I said.

She leaned down to kiss me, a fairly short, but warm peck.

“I might let you,” she whispered.

You can see how even a man with strong convictions might be drawn off track by persistent temptation.

I sucked her nipples. She decided that she liked that a lot, and that it was a very good thing she’d never allowed Steve to do so.

Then she rolled over and spread her thighs in welcome, letting me sink into her silky depths again.

I remember a lot more about this time, such as the feel of her clasping, tight pussy squeezing my prick just as hard as I could have with my own hand, and how good it felt to slide it in and out of her. I remember her legs crossing my back and squeezing. I remember her whispering not to stop. I remember her head turning back and forth on top of a mass of dark hair and her grabbing a pillow to scream into when she came.

And I remember feeling my spooge rising, leaving my balls, and knowing I should pull out ... but not doing that.

In fact, I remember starting to, pulling out of that heat until all but the tip of my cock was in the cool air. But then I pushed as deep into her as I could get as the soothing jets of semen left my body to become part of hers.

That’s one example. There are many others. She started dating again, but never went out with a guy more than twice in a row. She did a lot of “group dating” which meant she was ‘with’ some guy, but in a crowd. Those dates generated emotion in her and sometimes she got pretty wound up if she really liked the guy. But it was too dangerous for her to let loose with one of them. In later years she would explain that, the way she looked at it back then was that she wouldn’t be ready to have a permanent relationship with any guy until she was in college, at the soonest. So it didn’t matter if she really liked the high school boy she was out with. He just never had a chance. She’d enjoy being with him, even enjoy getting sexually excited by him, but only because she knew she could always come home from those dates and “unwind” with me.

One of those was after she went out with Enrique Espansa, a foreign exchange student from Brazil. He took her dancing and when she got home she came to my room and sat on the bed.

“Have a good time?” I asked.

“Great time,” she said. “He’s dreamy.”

“So you gonna go out with him again?”

“No. He made my panties wet.”

“I thought that was a good thing,” I said.

“No, that’s a bad thing. When my panties get wet I want to let a boy do too much.”

“Ahhh.”

“Has any girl ever played with your cock?” she asked.

“Uh ... no,” I admitted.

“I wanted to see Enrique’s. I wanted to touch it,” she said.

“So now you want to see mine instead?”

“Of course,” she said. “I’ve never had a chance to just play with it and see what it’s like.”

“You got it,” I said.

Ten minutes later she was learning how to jack a guy off. She had a lot of fun doing that, and was fascinated with my foreskin. She giggled a lot when it went off, making a mess everywhere. Except then she was horny and my cock wasn’t stiff anymore. So she taught me how to get a girl off with my fingers.

You wouldn’t believe how difficult and time-consuming that is!

It was after a group date that something else happened. This bunch of kids decided to go to a movie and then they went for ice cream at the mall. She was “with” a guy named Tony but he seemed more interested in another girl. She didn’t really care because Tony didn’t make her panties wet. But while they were eating ice cream she talked to Monica Hodges who, at one point, looked Hannah dead in the eyes and said, “You’re good at that. I bet you’d be good at licking pussy, too.” Turned out Monica likes both boys and girls.

Hannah didn’t lick Monica’s pussy that night, but when she came home, she wanted to know what getting one’s pussy licked felt like. Maybe she thought she’d understand Monica better. And there was no way I was going to pass up getting my first taste of quim.

We both loved it. The only problem was that after she had an orgasm she wanted something deeper in her than my tongue and I was fired up. She let me put it in her again and this time, when I felt the urge to cum, I didn’t even think about pulling out. I just pushed hard and enjoyed the ecstasy of shooting in Hannah.

Enough guys asked her to blow them that eventually she said she wanted to try that with me. She was pretty hesitant about it, I’ll tell you that. She got my cock hard (which required only that she come to my room in her sleeping shirt), and then crawled on my bed to lie on her side beside me. She jacked on me for a bit and then leaned over to kiss the tip.

“I don’t know, Bobby,” she said, jacking it slowly.

“Think of it as a Tootsie Roll Pop,” I suggested.

It took another five minutes, but finally my foreskin was all the way back and the tip of my cock was all the way in her mouth. Her lips sealed right behind the crown and I felt her tongue dance over the tip. Ten minutes after that she was a confirmed cocksucker. She loved it that much and, as they say, you can’t get preggers if the sperm’s in your stomach.

There were other times when she didn’t go on a date and just wanted to spend time with me. We didn’t even always have sex. She was really cognizant of her cycle. The whole point of all this was not getting pregnant, after all. So she wouldn’t let me in her if it was a dangerous part of her cycle. She knew I wouldn’t pull out, even if she asked me to. She knew that just like I had become addicted to shooting Hannah for her portfolio, I was now addicted to shooting in Hannah.