Chapter 20

Fran woke up in the dark and felt the strangeness of not knowing where you are. Her head was still fuzzy and she felt pain. She lifted her head and saw the interior of the cabin in the moonlight coming through the windows. “Oh yeah.” she thought to herself. The pain localized just above her groin and she realized she had to pee badly. Still woozy from the wine, she felt dizzy when she stood up and sat back down making the frame of the couch creak. She finally decided to crawl to the bathroom and that was better. She was sweaty and didn’t like that. While she sat down on the toilet she took off her shirt and bra and kicked off her shorts. Then she spread her legs and bore down as her bladder began to cooperate.

Bob was wakened by the creaking thump of Fran plopping back down on the couch. He didn’t know what it was, but it woke him up. He listened and heard a rustling as she crawled to the bathroom, and then nothing, and finally the tell-tale splash of urine hitting water hard. It was just one of the girls going to the bathroom. He closed his eyes and began to drift back to sleep.

Fran felt so good after her bladder emptied that she just sat there for a while. She tried standing up and it wasn’t so bad now. She swayed a little, but if she used her hands on the wall she could navigate relatively well. She was thirsty, and not knowing any better, leaned over the sink and drank straight from the tap. The wine still in her stomach began to seep into her bloodstream again almost immediately.

She stepped out into the main room, her eyes accustomed to the dim light that penetrated the windows. She saw Bob lying on the bed naked. She giggled, and then put her finger up to her lips to quiet herself. She swayed and almost fell and to save herself she dropped one knee to the floor and caught herself with her fingertips. Then she crawled again, this time to the edge of Bob’s bed. She held her breath and lifted her head little by little, pretending she was an Indian, spying on the Cavalry. As her eyes rose high enough they saw the landscape of Bob’s body, pale in the moonlight. There, lying on his brown bush was his penis.

“The soldier is asleep when he’s supposed to be alert and standing at attention!” she giggled to herself. “I can ambush him! He hasn’t got a chance.”

She got to her knees and ever so slowly reached her hand out. She couldn’t seem to make it stay still, and it went from side to side. She concentrated until her hand was right over his cock and then touched it with one fingertip. She jerked her hand back and covered her mouth with both hands as she giggled. She put her index and middle fingertips on the bedclothes at the edge of the bed and walked them toward Bob’s hip, making them go fast at a diagonal, and then very slowly toward his skin, like a guerilla sneaking up on an enemy position. She knew better than to crawl her fingers up his hip, so she “jumped” her make believe attacker and her hand landed on his prick. Her fingers went around it and she marveled at how warm it felt. Bob’s breathing changed and she froze.

He seemed to sigh and didn’t move any further. She squeezed gently, sliding her hand down toward his balls like she had when he was sleeping in Aunt Martha’s house. He was sleeping now, and it suddenly seemed normal to be doing what she was doing. Her alcohol fogged mind made the transference complete as her hand moved faster and harder, no longer worried about waking him up. He never woke up, right?

Or did he?

Yes, he did wake up. But he wasn’t waking up now. She began to feel the tingles around her body that she had felt when doing this before, and her other hand went to stroke her pussy lips. She loved to pull at them, stretching one of them as far as she could and letting it snap back. When she had done that a few times, she would burrow her fingers between her stretched lips to find her bud and squeeze it. She couldn’t pull it, because by now she was wet and slippery and she couldn’t get a grip on it.

One hand stroked the penis, which was getting hard, just like it always did, while the other hand pinched as she spread her legs wide while she squatted beside the bed. Then it was time to straighten three fingers and rub them back and forth over her clit as the streaks of pleasure began to suffuse her belly. Her nipples tingled and she started breathing faster.

Bob was having a great dream in which Becca was playing with him, getting ready to swallow his cock. He rose toward wakefulness and fought it. He didn’t want to wake up and make the dream stop. But her hand moving on him got faster and harder and it brought him awake with the dream lingering in his mind. She was there. She’d said she might do this.

“Suck it.” he whispered.

Fran felt him move and heard his whisper. She froze.

“Suck it baby.” he whispered again.

Fran’s befuddled mind knew what he meant. She’d thought about doing that before, but hadn’t had the nerve to do it. Now, his invitation helped her knock down the last wall of inhibition she had. She stood, and leaned over the bed, his prick still in her hand. In her mind, he knew who she was and accepted her as a woman.

She stuck out her tongue and touched the tip of it to the tip of his cock. His hips flexed and he pushed it against her lips. She backed up enough to lick her lips, tasting. Nothing. Not good ... not bad ... just nothing. She touched it with her tongue again, feeling the surface. The foreskin was up, and her tongue pushed at it, moving it. She moved her hand to pull it back and her tongue felt a different surface, tight and smooth and slick. Her lips were right there and she tentatively nipped at the tip with them, like she was taking the tip off an ice cream cone. His skin felt smooth and warm. She liked it. That led to taking a little more and a little more until the knobby head was in her mouth. It felt good to try and squash it with her lips and cheeks, but she was careful not to bite.

His hips flexed again and shoved another inch in her mouth. Now her lips were down on the shaft, and that felt different too. That skin moved a little, and was bumpier. She had to open her mouth wider because he was thicker down there. She played by sliding her lips up and down the long shaft like she had seen a woman do in a porno flick one of her friends had shown her.

Bob sighed as Becca worked on his prick. She was being much more gentle than she had been in the past. Before she was almost violent, taking as much into her mouth as she could without choking, and moving her head fast. Tonight she was slower, more tender. Both ways were nice. The fast way made him want to cum in her mouth. But this way made him want to wait and cum in her pussy. He thought about eating her pussy first, but he’d already done that tonight, and he wanted the real deal now. He moved his hand to her hip. She was still naked. He slid his hand up to fondle a breast.

Becca and Fran were alike in odd ways. Becca was short for her age, and modestly developed. She had shoulder length auburn hair that usually hung loose. Fran was tall for her age, and ahead of most of the other girls in terms of her shape. Her dark brown hair was also shoulder length, though she usually had it in a pony tail. Tonight it was loose. They swapped clothing all the time and it fit them both perfectly.
The result was that, in the dark, Bob couldn’t see her well enough to see the darker hair, and her breasts were about the same size as Becca’s.

So Bob still thought it was Becca making him feel delicious.

And Fran still thought he knew who she was.

When he ran his hand over her breast and felt for a nipple, Fran shivered. She’d never let a boy touch her naked breast before. A couple had copped feels through her clothing at dances, but that was it. The feel of his flesh on her nipples was almost astonishingly wonderful and she leaned closer to him. His hand went to her back and he pulled her toward him. She crawled up onto the bed. Since he was lying right in the middle, there was no room for her to lie down on either side. Instead, she stayed on all fours, straddling his knees, with her hands on either side of his hips. This was better. His prick was at full stiffness now, and she didn’t need her hand to stand it up to lick and suck. Whenever she let it fall out of her mouth, though, it leaned to one side - her left - and she had to move her upper body to recapture it. She played, licking and sucking for five more minutes, unhappy because she couldn’t reach her pussy because she had both hands planted on the bed. Then his hands pulled her face up toward his and she had to crawl up his body. He was pulling her up for a kiss, and that put her pussy lips right on the bottom of his prick as her body forced it down onto his abdomen. Her natural inclination to press her pussy against something hard brought almost electric shocks that shot out from her pussy and up into her belly. They raced under her skin somehow and into her nipples, which spiked and stuck out more than they ever had before.

Fran couldn’t decide what to concentrate on. She’d kissed boys too, but not like this. Bob’s mouth was alive and moving under her lips, and she wanted to move hers like that too. His tongue flicked into her mouth and then back out. She’d heard of this, but thought it would be nasty. It wasn’t. But her pussy was rubbing that long hard thing down there, and that felt amazing too. She dragged her pussy along his prick and then pushed it back down again. The slightly bumpy skin on the bottom of his cock pushed her labia aside and let her clit ride directly on the hard surface. She knew instantly she could cum this way, if she had enough time to rub. Bob’s hands slid all over her back, her waist and her buttocks, grabbing them to help her slide back and forth.

Again, she let it all happen, just experiencing all the new feelings and things. And again, Bob was the one who pushed it further. Becca had wanted his prick in her earlier, and he knew she wanted it now. He pushed her to a sitting position and reached down to fist his cock. He pushed it at her belly, expecting her to raise up so he could get it started into her pussy. For some reason she didn’t raise up, but scooted back. He had to bend his prick almost painfully to make it point toward his feet, but he felt the tip nudge into her opening. She gasped and he knew she was excited.

When Fran finally realized what he was trying to do her mind exploded. In her dreams she had done this before. Philosophically she wanted to feel what it was like. She still had, though, the natural desire to protect herself from harm, and the nervousness about letting her cherry get picked. Her emotions were at a peak, and her body was screaming to let that prick up inside her. She wanted to ... but she didn’t at the same time. She decided that she would “try it a little bit” to see what that was like. Then she’d make up her mind about more. She shoved her pussy forward and the tip of his prick burrowed happily between her pussy lips. The pressure felt good to both of them as his broad knob spread her opening apart more than it had ever spread before.

But the knob was still outside of her. Her weight was on her knees, with her shins lying flat on the bed beside his legs. By leaning forward with her hands on his stomach, she could control how far her hips moved.
It felt good to push. The more she pushed, the better if felt. There came a point where pushing too hard was painful, but if she backed off from that point just a tiny bit, it was perfect. She couldn’t hold it there, because she began to go numb, but if she backed off and then pushed, and backed off and pushed, it was fabulous. Basically she was fucking the tip of his cock with just her pussy lips.

Bob thought she was teasing him ... playing with him ... trying to drive him wild.

It was working.

There came a point where Bob leaned up, tightening his abs and reached for her waist. He grabbed it as she slid forward, her hands on his lower rib cage. He wanted it in her and he pulled her onto it.

Fran had excelled in gymnastics and in the process had destroyed her hymen. She was also more flexible than most girls her age, which is why, when she was forced down onto her great grandfather’s rampant rod, it only hurt a lot, instead of tearing her apart.

“Ohhh oowwwwww” she complained as she was stuffed. Her thighs automatically flexed and pulled her up off the invader. But her upper legs were too short to pull completely off of him. The head was still inside her. She wanted to move her legs so she could get off, but when she tried, she slid back down. The tip of his cock felt like it was in her stomach and she tried to get off again, leaning forward and putting pressure on the tops of her feet. She was strong enough to lift her whole body that way, but Bob still hadn’t figured out who she was, so his hands went back to her waist and pulled her back down onto his prick.

In her leaned forward position, when Bob impaled her again, the top of his cock scraped along her clit. Those electric tingles, combined with the fact that her pussy was beginning to adjust to his girth, gave her the first real information that there might be something more than pain. She tried the same maneuver again, with better results. By the time she’d done it two more times, there was more pleasure than pain, and the pain wasn’t bad at all. She couldn’t make it move too much though, and she just knew that if she could get more travel along that nice hard thing, it would feel even better. She sat up, letting her whole weight drive her down onto his cock and leaned to her left to unfold her right leg and put her foot flat on the bed. Then she leaned the other way to do the same thing. With her feet now beside his ribs she leaned forward again and put her hands on his chest. She had to move around, but she finally found a squatting position that put her thighs in control. She started bouncing, hearing wet sounds as she pulled her pussy almost off of his standing prick, and then let her pussy fall back to slam down against him, driving him deep.

That was the feeling she had been looking for, and it was even better than she had hoped. She set up a smooth repetitive tempo, fucking his cock with her pussy and making the bed springs squeak in a rhythmic tempo.