Chapter 24

I stood paralyzed while Mrs. Russo stared at me with pleading eyes. She mouthed the word “please.” What could I do? She had been so good to me. And it wasn’t as if she were asking me to jump off a cliff. The crotch of my panties was wet from having seen Mr. Russo naked when he had come out of the bathroom. I had sex with him once before and it was great. Better than great. It had been the greatest sexual experience of my life.

I nodded my agreement and spun around, leaving the living room and walking down the hallway. When I was at the open door to the master bedroom, I stopped. Mr. Russo was lying on the bed reading a book. He wore slacks and an undershirt, but his feet were bare.

When he looked up from his book and we made eye contact, my breathing stopped. I turned and dashed down the hallway until I was standing outside the living room.

“I can’t ask him,” I said, panting from both the short sprint and nervousness.

Mrs. Russo was sliding the dildo in and out of her pussy. Her hips had been moving slightly. Now they were still.

“Don, come in here,” Mrs. Russo shouted.

My breathing stopped. My heart stopped. I thought my legs were going to give out. Oh my god, what was she going to do?

Mr. Russo was soon standing next to me.

“Don, I haven’t been able to have sex with you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. I understand.”

“But Julie here is willing. Why don’t you two go into the bedroom and have some fun.”

Mr. Russo looked at me with surprised eyes. My eyes dropped to the floor. He placed a hand on my shoulder and held it there until I looked up. He smiled. The smile melted my heart. He scooped me up in his arms and carried me down the hallway with an arm under my knees and the other supporting my back. The side of my face bounced on his shoulder.

Mrs. Russo shouted after us, “And leave the door open.”

Mr. Russo chuckled. But not me. I was holding my breath, trembling with anticipation. He carried me into the bedroom and sat me on the side of the bed.

“Wanda can be kind of bossy,” Mr. Russo said. “Especially when it comes to sex. Is this what you want?”

Mr. Russo stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers. My eyes closed and my heart pounded in my chest. The tingling in my pussy wanted me to shout, “Yes!” but I was afraid to. I was still that unsure sixteen-year-old girl.

“Is it what you want?” I asked.

“Julie, I would like nothing more. After that time we made love, I thought it was a one time thing. That I would never be with you again. I mean, like that.”

“Why, because I wasn’t good?”

“Are you kidding? You were great.”

“Then why?”

“Because you’re sixteen.”

I pouted. “So I’m too young.”

“No, I thought you’d think I was too old. You’re a beautiful and sexy young woman and can have any boy you want.”

Butterflies fluttered in my tummy hearing that. I couldn’t speak. But when Mr. Russo clamped both sides of my face in his large hands and held my head still as he pressed his lips to mine, I flung my arms around his neck. His tongue slipped through my parted lips as he lowered me onto my back, never breaking the passionate kiss.

I lay on his bed, on my back with my feet still on the floor, as his upper body hovered over me and his tongue battled mine. No kiss had ever compared to this one, even previous kisses with Mr. Russo. I clenched the back of his undershirt in my fists as I pulled his body against mine. I wanted the kiss to last forever.

It didn’t. Mr. Russo jerked his head back.

My face was flushed. Sweat beaded on my forehead. The kiss had heated every inch of my body. I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand.

“Hot?” Mr. Russo asked.

God was I hot! My damp panties were stuck to my pussy.

“Let me help you off with your sweater,” he said.

Oh, he meant warm, not aroused. Mr. Russo sat me upright, grabbed the bottom of my sweater, and pulled it up. I raised my arms straight into the air as he pulled it off and tossed it aside. My brand new sweater was discarded like an old rag, but I didn’t care.

Mr. Russo yanked his undershirt over his head and flipped it in the same direction as my sweater. His chest was bare. Mine was covered by a bra. That was short-lived when Mr. Russo reached behind me, unclasped and removed my bra, and tossed it somewhere near my sweater. We were now both naked from the waist up.

Mr. Russo leaned in. I thought for another kiss, but his mouth covered my left breast. With his hands on my back, holding me in place, he sucked and nibbled the flesh. And flicked his tongue over my nipple. My hand flew to the back of his head and held him there.

With his mouth on my breast, Mr. Russo once again lowered me onto my back. He sucked and nibbled, first one breast and then the other. He kissed between them and then lower toward my belly, sometimes kissing, sometimes licking. Sometimes blowing puffs of air on my sensitive skin. Or was he panting? It didn’t matter. Each caused goose bumps to grow. He kept returning to my breasts, though. And nipples.

Then his hand was on my crotch. With my feet still on the floor, my legs were parted. That had given him access. He pressed down on my groin and squeezed. It was so much better when someone touched me there than when I did it myself. Someone I liked, that is. And right now, I liked Mr. Russo more than anyone in the world.

Mr. Russo’s hand left my crotch. Before I could complain, he grabbed my hand and pulled it to his groin. I felt his hardness inside his slacks and rubbed and squeezed it. His hand returned to my crotch, massaging it over my pants. My pussy was so wet that the lips were sticking together. All the while he was kissing and licking and sucking my breasts.

Mr. Russo’s mouth left my breast and pecked my lips before moving near my ear. He whispered, “Do you want me to stop?”

“No! Please don’t!”

But he did. Mr. Russo sat up. My hand was no longer touching his cock and his no longer touching my pussy. His lips were no longer kissing my body. Did he misunderstand me?

I sat up to object, but my chin dug into my chest when I felt his hands bump into my bare belly. He found the button on my pants, popped it through the buttonhole, and then lowered the zipper. He pulled one boot off and then the other. Then he grabbed the sides of my pants and tugged. I didn’t even get the chance to lift my butt. He yanked my pants so hard they slid past my butt, not stopping until my pants were dragged over my feet and off.