Conflicting research paradigms
Have legitimized various crimes.
The worst we can see
Is in psychology,
Measuring reaction times.

While my friends concentrated all their time and energy on the girls of my high school in an attempt to vent even a minute amount of sexual frustration, I aimed my own in another direction.

It all started three years ago, when I was a 14-year-old teenager. Hitting puberty not long before I still had the tall lankiness of that age, my body hard with muscles from sports but otherwise uninspiring. It was that year that I truly came of age; you see, I finally noticed girls.

Bonnie

It was a girl at school that I first noticed and had my first teenage crush upon; she was tiny, cute, and had a big, bright smile. I was obsessed with her after I accidentally saw her full legs and panties when she fell on the ice outside school one morning. No one else saw, and after a quick look and quickly pushing down her pleated skirt, she thought no one else saw either.

Her name was Trish.

I followed her everywhere, hounded and nagged her with my presence, and generally made a fool of myself. Yet, I never said more than two words to her up to that point. But my insistent teenage determination demanded that I act.

So I went over to her home after supper time one evening. I can remember that the snow was falling lightly and the moon was bright. Even with few lights on the houses and the road lights barely making a difference, I thought the night was brightly lit.

Her mom answered my knock. “Hello?” She was drunk. Trish’s mom was also an older model of her daughter, compact, cute, and had a wide, generous mouth that I imagined could smile and brighten any room.

“Oh ... hi.”

“Yes?” I felt like a fool; what was I doing on Trish’s door late at night, her mom standing in a cold doorway as some awkward teenager stuttered his way through normal conversation?

“Is Trish ... I mean...”

She interrupted, “Trish? No, she is at her friends tonight.” She frowned and looked me slowly up and down in a most disagreeable way, as if I was a fancy dress in a shop window that she considered buying. “Would you like to come in? Out of the cold, I mean?”

I didn’t see the reason for it. Trish wasn’t home. The hours of building up my resolve to come here were wasted. If Trish had only been home!

“Is she expected soon?”

Her mom just smiled and stood back from the door, evidently Trish must be expected very soon. Not wanting this little adventure in my short life to end without at least talking to my objective, I thought it would not hurt to wait a couple of minutes.

I stood in the foyer, pulling my jacket and winter boots off. “I’ll make some hot chocolate. Have a seat.” She waved over towards the living room adjacent to the foyer. I watched her half-stumble her way to the kitchen. My teenage hormones forced me to check out the older woman. Nice. Small frame but round bottom that wiggled just the way I like it in those tight jeans she wore. Short but slim legs, well-shaped from what I could see. Her hair was darker than Trish’s, light brown, and shorter by a few inches but still hung halfway down her back.

She finally returned with the chocolate and a beer for herself. “What is your name?” She practically slurred her words.

“Ben.”

“I’m Bonny.” And after a quick drink from her glass, she asked, “Do you have a nice cock, Ben?”

Time stood still. The clock on the wall reverberated about the room. My heart pounded so loudly I thought it louder than the clock, and I froze. No one, I mean no one, had ever spoken to me that way? So blunt, so graphic, and so personal, especially a woman the same age as my mother. What could I say? How could I move ... if I did, Bonnie would see how scared I suddenly was.

She waited a few moments, then asked another question, “Would you like to fuck me, Ben?”

That was it. Like some idiot, I started to cough and hack. The blood went to my face, and I felt like my cheeks were on fire.

Still keeping me unbalanced, Bonnie set down her drink and stood. “Trish is staying at her friends’ overnight. If you want to fuck me, I’ll be upstairs in my room.” She slowly walked away, nearly tripping over her own feet.

As soon as Bonnie was gone, I nearly ran to the door and started to fumble with my boots. God, how did I get into this situation?

Then it hit me, with one boot on and bouncing about trying to get the second one on: Bonnie wants to have sex with me. Me!

Holy shit!

I slipped my boot off and stood there at the base of the stairs, feeling nervous and extremely out of my realm of expertise. Approximately at that time was when the hormones finally kicked in. I even thought how it was unfair to have sex with a woman that was drunk. Would she still have asked me if the alcohol was not in her system? Yet the hormones overrode common sense and intelligent reasoning. Who cares! Bonnie, Trish’s mom, wanted to fuck me!

Wow.

I ran up the stairs and found myself standing in the open doorway to Bonnie’s room. It was the first time in my life that I’d ever seen a naked woman.

Bonnie lay on her bed, right in the middle, fully unclothed. She was rubbing her hand between her legs over and in a generous mound of pubic hair. Her breasts, hung nearly to either side of her chest, had dark, inch-wide nipples that beckoned my gaze. Her legs were wide apart, with knees slightly bent. It was a lewd and bawdy position. It was also more than I’ve ever seen.

My teenage cock thrust painfully against my pants. It knew why it was here.

“Come here and fuck me, Ben.” Her fingers spread the generous pussy, and I saw the glistening pink beneath.

My hands scrambled at pulling my clothes off. When I bounced comically about, anxious to lose my virginity, Bonnie continued to taunt me with her words. “Get that hard teenage cock in this pussy ... fuck me hard ... use me like a whore...” I climbed up on the bed, between her legs, and aimed my cock towards the junction between her thighs as if it was my love missile. “ ... my husband likes whores...” I fumbled about, poking her hand, pussy, and thighs - unable to deliver my missile. “ ... but he doesn’t like to get them at home...”

Bonnie grabbed my shaft with her free hand and held me firm. It was the first touch of a woman’s hand upon my cock, and it felt great. Then she slowly pulled me towards her. Without a preamble, I suddenly felt myself sink into the most desirable feeling in the world, the hot, wet channel of a woman.

Both her hands came out from between us and grabbed my skinny, hard teenage ass and pulled me roughly in, towards her. I was seated fully within her love grotto.

It was too much. I felt my cock begin to twitch and spasm as the seed of my loins flooded into the first vagina I’ve ever been in. Bonnie whined, “Come on, my face, on my tits...”, and quickly I pulled from her, allowing my seed to continue to spurt from my body upon her breasts. I aimed for her nipples, as sexy as they looked. “ ... use me like a whore!”

I was.

Bonnie grasped both her breasts and wrapped those delightful, warm, soft flesh globes about my cock. Nearly as delicious a feeling as her sex had been. She tilted her head and opened her mouth. A tongue began to tease the head of my cock even as the spasms were nearly gone.

I knelt panting above her, looking down at the most incredible sight. Bonnie only stared at my cock.

Thankfully, especially this being my first time, my cock never softened. Oh, the pain-filled hardness was gone, but it still throbbed with desire.

Bonnie looked up into my eyes with a lust-filled smile when she realized the same.

“My husband never fucked my tits before, never had me lick the head of his cock either.” Awkwardly, I moved off her, as she motioned me to give her room to move. “If he ever asks you...”, she turned over and showed me that sexy round ass and got up on her knees, “ ... you will have to tell him how you fucked me. Perhaps then he’ll not need to go out to get his whore’s.” Bonnie motioned me behind her.

The unexperienced idiot that I was, I had no idea what she was trying to get me to do. Thankfully, she simply grasped my hard cock and pulled it until I again felt it enter her body. “Now fuck me, Ben. Hard!”

I did.

It would soon become my favourite position, behind a kneeling passionate woman. I grabbed her hips and watched with delight as she slammed her body back against me again and again. My cock felt as if it was halfway to her chest. Bonnie began to make noises that I’ve never heard before, noises that I wanted to hear again and again. It was of a woman in the heat of passion.

Soon, I again felt the familiar tingle in my balls and attempted to hold it back, unsuccessfully. Bonnie must have felt me tense up also. She squealed in delight and ordered, “Oh yes, come on, my ass, Ben. Come all over my ass hole.”

Strange request, but I complied.

Soon, I lay next to Bonnie on her marriage bed. She lay panting, her back to me. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was beautiful, sexy, and the most delightful sight I’ve ever seen.

A mumble from her side of the bed, “Rub my ass, Ben?” No longer was it a command from her, but a request. One that I had no problems complying with.

“Hum ... rub that wonderful spunk all over my ass.”

Certainly. My hand was bold. Why not, I thought after what we had just done? I slipped it between the cheeks of her round, firm ass and slipped my sperm-coated fingers around the tiny, round, hard muscle of her anus. I had seen it winking at me as I pounded her from behind and thought how sexy it looked but had not had the nerve to touch it. With her request, I now did.

She moaned lightly and squirmed about while also arching her back and pushing out her ass, which effectively allowed her ass crack to widen. I took this as permission to enjoy myself even more and slipped my finger into her backside.

That was when the fun ended. She giggled. I have never heard an older woman giggle like this before and spun about, which disengaged my hand. “That’s enough, stud.” Me? “I’m going to have a long, hot bath. Maybe next time, this whore may even let you fuck her there!” In her ass hole? Wow.

Bonnie rolled out of bed and quickly disappeared into an adjoining bathroom. I slowly stood up, feeling as if I was on top of the world. Me, I had just fucked a woman. Not a teenage giggly, inexperienced girl, but a real, live, sexy woman! I had given my virginity to this woman, or rather, she took it from me.

As I finished putting my sweater on, I remembered two things. That Bonnie no longer staggered when she walked to the bathroom or was slurring her words since I joined her in her bedroom - was she even drunk? Why would she feel the need to fake intoxication? It made no sense to me. The other was her words as she departed, “ ... next time...”!

I couldn’t stop from smiling all the long walk home.

My father wouldn’t have noticed if we had a roof or not on our house, but Mom did. She asked me several times what I was smiling so much about. She asked for several days after my adventure with Bonnie.

Something happened to me after I left Bonnie. Something inside me changed from a young teenager, a boy really, to a young man. I knew what all my peers had been anxious to discover with girls their own age, what they wanted to ultimately do with them but didn’t know how. I did. Bonnie had taught me without being a teacher.

Trish approached me at school. Though I thought she never even knew I was alive, “Hi, Ben?” See, she wasn’t even sure of my name. “Mom said you came around last Thursday. Did you want something?”

Now a week earlier, I would have stammered and stumbled at the approach with this sexy little teenager, but no longer. I no longer felt interest in her, only her mother. “Yes, but I found more than I came for.” I left her standing in the hallway with a puzzled frown upon her face.

Darlene

I have been shovelling Mrs. Harrison’s walks for several years. With the abundant snow these last couple of winters, I’ve made enough to purchase a new bike last summer. Unfortunately, they had a very long walk and driveway. Fortunately, my pay reflected this when she came time to pay me.

Mrs. Harrison had been living next to us for as long as my parents had been here. She and her husband were professional people, she being a lawyer, I believe, and had no children.

Big deal, you may ask?

Just as I started to shovel, Mrs. Harrison drives up, waves, and forces her truck past me into her garage. Thinking nothing of it, and this not being the first time, nor the last, that I was shovelling their walk in winter. Half done, I stood up to stretch and to catch my breath and saw Mrs. Harrison standing in her huge living room window with a steaming mug of tea in both hands, looking right at me with a strange half-smile and faraway look. I simply waved spiritedly; she just smiled and turned about into the shade beyond my vision.

I returned to shovelling.

No big deal, right?

True. At least if I had not had a taste of older women in the form of Bonnie. Don’t get the idea that my one sexual experience left me an expert in the subject; far from it. Only that it left me with a new perspective towards the ladies that I never truly noticed before.

Within her garage, hours later, I was cleaning off the shovel and pick before returning them to their rightful spot when Mrs. Harrison opened the inner door to her garage and smiled gently at me. “Good work again, Ben.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Harrison.”

“Can I pay you next week?”

Of course, she can. She always paid me at the end of each month for the sum total of my work. “Sure.” I was finished with my tools and stood facing her, in all my winter-bundled glory.

Mrs. Harrison smiled again, then turned as if she was leaving. “Do you have any hot chocolate, Darlene?”

It just sort of blurted out of my mouth. I certainly had not planned to ask or especially to use her first name.

She stopped, looked over her shoulder with an uncertain and surprised look, and nodded. “Certainly. Come on in, Ben.”

I had never used her first name before and had only known it from overhearing conversations between my mother and Mrs. Harrison, Darlene. As I pulled off all my winter gear, it was cold that day, I remember. She returned to the kitchen, and I could hear her prepare my warm drink.