Chapter 4

After the school picnic, some things about my relationship with Bob changed and some things remained the same. His work shift changed, and he was working more days and some nights, so I wasn't able to see him quite as often. But as my parents got a little more comfortable with him, we were able to go out more, but still mainly in the daytime. We gradually got much more familiar with each other's bodies. After extracting solemn promises from him about what he would and would not do, I let him into my pants, so to speak. Our deal was that if he was careful and gentle, he could finger my clit and pussy, but he had to keep his pants zipped while he did it. When his pants were down, mine were up. We developed an alternating rhythm: he would get me off, and then I would return the favor. It may not seem all that exciting these days, but it was pretty exciting for me at 14.

Much of this activity went on either at my house or in his car. We almost never had privacy for any length of time. There really weren't a lot of places we could go to that were private enough for sex, although we occasionally went back to the high school staircase. Our sex life became based on the fine art of the quickie. All we needed was about 15 minutes alone, and it was orgasm time. I don't know how many orgasms I had while we were watching TV on the couch in the den, with my parents just down the hall. We would curl up on the couch, wiggle around until his hand could get through my clothes to my clit, and the fun would begin. We found several positions that worked, depending on what I was wearing. Sometimes I would play with my own nipples if he couldn't comfortably reach them. He soon found just the rhythm that I liked, and Bob could bring me to orgasm pretty quickly, and then keep going with these little mini-orgasms about every five minutes. The worst part for me was keeping quiet. I tended to make grunts and sighs and sometimes little yelps when I came, but at home I had to stifle my noises so my parents or brother wouldn't hear. After a while, we just turned the TV up louder to cover my little exclamations of joy.

It was harder to satisfy Bob when we were at my house, although we succeeded a few times. Once, while my Dad was out in the yard mowing the grass, we realized that as long as we could hear the lawn mower, we were safe. We rushed back to the bathroom, locked the door, and stripped off our shirts. One of my favorite things to do was to stand behind Bob and rub my tits against Bob's bare back while I jacked him off. It made masturbating him feel more intimate for me, I guess. I had long, straight hair, and I also liked the feeling of my hair rubbing across my nipples while I played with him.

Bob dropped his pants and I assumed my preferred position behind him, and gripped his erect cock in my right hand. I had put a little bit of lotion on my hand for lubrication, as he liked that sensation. He was a little taller than I was, so I could feel his bare butt against my tummy. My left hand roamed around on his chest and stomach, and sometimes down to his balls. I just sort rubbed my breasts against his bare back, which warmed me up a good bit. By this time I knew better how to stroke him for maximum effect, so Bob just tried to relax and enjoy the attention. We could hear the roar of the lawnmower in the background, and I just kept rubbing my tits on his back while Bob fucked my hand. It was good, but he wasn't cumming, and the lubrication had rubbed off.

I stopped a moment, got a few more squirts of Jergens lotion on my hand, and knelt down beside him so I could try a different angle. Covering his dick with the cool lotion, I faced backwards with my cheek against his hip, braced my left hand on his butt, and started stroking his dick rapidly as he thrust back against my hand. This time, with the lubrication and change in my position, it didn't take long before he shot off, making a big mess as usual. We were cleaning up when we heard the lawn more stop, so I quickly put my shirt back on and left him to finish wiping his cum off of my Mom's green tile floor.