The Benefits of Friends
Chapter 3: The Second Lesson, Part 1

Copyright© 2012 by Memory Heap

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 3: The Second Lesson, Part 1 - We had been best friends since the day she was born. We had grown up together, played together, and learned together. Now, she was proposing that we teach each other about sex.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   mt/Fa   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Consensual   NonConsensual   Spanking   Light Bond   First   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Sex Toys   Exhibitionism  

The next morning, the doorbell rang about 9:30. I was just finishing breakfast, and was only wearing a t-shirt and shorts. I answered the door, and there she was, dressed much like yesterday, and carrying a small backpack. She stepped into the foyer, closing the door behind her, and moved to me, tilting her face up to mine.

I wrapped her in my arms and took the suggestion for a kiss at face value, moving my lips to hers. She dropped the backpack, and wrapped her arms around my neck, deepening the kiss. Our tongues started fencing, and I could hear a low moan in her throat. Time slowed down for both of us as we greeted each other in this manner that we had learned only yesterday.

My penis began to twitch, and feeling this, she moved her abdomen in tighter against me, purposefully rubbing against it, and making the situation that much worse. After yesterday's masturbation session, I knew there was no point in being embarrassed about what was happening—she knew precisely what was sticking into her, why, and that she was the cause.

After a moment, she moaned again, and then moved her head back, breaking the kiss. "This is the way that I want to say hello to you every day, from now on," she breathed.

I looked into those wonderful green eyes, and said, "There may be a problem with that. That's not how we usually greet each other, and we may want to be somewhat more clandestine to keep our parents from suspecting anything." Typically, before yesterday we had greeted each other by a simple nod of the head, or the occasional 'Hey.' We simply took each other's presence for granted, assuming that we would pretty much always be with each other.

We had never held hands, or hugged, and definitely had never kissed each other. I knew that such displays of affection were about to become commonplace and expected for both of us, but being a little circumspect, at least for a while, might not be a bad idea. I voiced these opinions to her, and could see her face cloud over a little.

"But I have made up my mind about I how feel for you, and I don't care who knows it. It's as if I want to mark you for the world to see: 'This man is mine; do not touch.' I tossed and turned a lot last night thinking about, and my mind hasn't changed since yesterday."

"I feel the same way about you. Remember that yesterday I said that kissing you was a truly enjoyable experience. The past few minutes have not changed my mind; kissing you ranks as one of my all-time favourite activities ... but you have to take into account our relationship for the past sixteen years. Our parents have accepted us as best friends, with gender not entering into the relationship. We have never shown signs of affection for each other, and as a result we have been given a huge amount of freedom.

"Face it, what other teenagers do we know that have the freedom to roam the city, ignore curfews, and not even phone home every hour? As long as it is you and me together, our parents assume that no trouble will ensue, and that we will not be trying to get into each other's pants. Obviously, for you and me that changed in a big way yesterday, and it will change in even bigger ways as this 'research project' continues. If our parents detect a sudden change in the way we act around each other, they will realize that we have suddenly discovered sex, and they will act to ensure that we no longer get to spend time with each other alone.

"Do you really think that if your mother saw you with your arms wrapped around me, doing your best to rub against my stiffening penis, that she wouldn't let out a blood-curdling scream and drag you home by your hair?"

She smiled a little coquettishly, something I didn't even know that she knew how to do. My penis twitched again at the sight, causing her to rub against it some more. "But I really like rubbing against your stiff penis." After a moment, she stepped back out of my embrace, making it easier for her to look me in the eye.

"I could use the expression, 'I hate it when you're right, ' but you are. Your logic is impeccable. As much as it pains me to admit it, the thought of my parents catching us in the garage yesterday, or in one another's beds in the future is horrifying ... not for being caught, but for the repercussions. I guess I've been letting emotions cloud my judgement, probably because this is all so new. After all, it was only yesterday that I realized I love you."

"And it was only yesterday that my best friend not only declared her love, but her lust for me, and I'm still getting used to the concept, and the revelation. However, I already know that having received both of those, I will never give them up, but I could have them forcibly taken away from me. That result would probably kill me."

As I finished, she threw herself back into my arms, hugging me fiercely. As she lifted her head to kiss me, I reached to her waist, and lifted her to my height, as I had first done at her request yesterday. With the two of us level, I looked deeply into her eyes, and could see the love, and fear, that was there. I kissed her deeply, letting her know through this action that I was hers forever.

I could feel her tears wetting my face as our tongues dueled for possession of each other's mouth. I could also tell that her breathing was getting a little ragged and, based on yesterday's experience, I knew that this meant her level of arousal was rising.

A moment later, we broke the kiss, and I lowered her to the ground. I looked down at her, and started to raise one hand, moving it toward her breast, but stopped about an inch away. "You know, these felt so wonderful yesterday, that I'd almost like to hold one occasionally when we're kissing. Would it be okay to touch it now?"

She grabbed my hand, forcibly planting it on her breast, and using my fingers to squeeze it firmly. As she moaned with the sensation, she said with a little quaver in her voice, "New rule. Any body part in reach my be held, felt, caressed, squeezed, or patted whenever the other party desires, or is instructed to by the owner of said body part. This means, yes, you may hold a breast while you kiss me. It also means that you may use my ass to hold me up to your level, since that may be easier for you, and will certainly feel better for me." As she finished declaring the new rule, she took herself at her word, and reached out to grab my penis through my shorts, pulling me toward her for another kiss. I massaged her wonderfully firm breast throughout the kiss, thoroughly enjoying both her action and mine.

After another eternity of kissing, she pulled back a bit, and asked, "Have you had your shower yet?"

"No, I was just finishing breakfast when you arrived, and I was going to work out for a bit, then have a shower. I hadn't expected you to arrive this early."

"I was too anxious to wait, so I packed up and came over."

"Packed up? Packed up what?"

"I brought a few things we'll need for today's lesson."

"What's today's lesson?"

"Oral sex." My penis gave a jerk at the thought of her mouth on it, and she giggled, since she was still holding it in her hand. "Ah, I see someone likes that idea. Let's go upstairs. I haven't showered yet either. I was hoping we could do it together." She started moving toward the stairs, pulling me along with the hand on my penis. Along the way, she picked up the small backpack she had brought.

"It really isn't a handle, you know."

"It seems to be working quite well as one."

She giggled at her own witticism, then let go of me and ran for the stairs. As she entered my room, she looked at the rumpled state of the bedclothes, and said, "Well, we won't have to worry about messing up the bed. Now, get undressed."

"Wait," I said. She paused with the hem of her t-shirt in her hands, and looked at me.

"We can't shower in our clothes."

"I know, but I want to undress you. I need to learn how, and the thought of unwrapping you..."

She looked down at my crotch, and said, "I can see what the thought does to you. Please proceed." She dropped her hands to her sides, and smiled shyly at me.

I moved closer, then reached out my hands, and gave both of her breasts a little squeeze, through the layers of her clothes. She moaned deep in her throat, and huskily said, "I love the way you do that. I hope you do it a lot."

After one more squeeze, I lowered my hands to the bottom of her t-shirt, and lifted it over her head, helping her take her arms and ponytail out. Looking at her ponytail, I decided that I wanted to see her hair in all its crazy swirl of curls, so I reached behind her head and gently removed her typical rubber band, then ran my fingers through her hair, fluffing it out. She looked at me a little quizzically as I did this.

"I've decided that I much prefer your hair framing your face, and draping over your shoulders, especially when those shoulders are naked." She grinned at me, and then rapidly shook her head to help spread the hair around. I appreciated the gesture, and the result.

I looked at her bra, and she spun around saying, "It hooks in the back." I examined the hooks, figuring out how this worked, then reached out and released the two sides of the strap. She held her hands to the cups of the bra, preventing it from falling off, and turned back around. She looked at me somewhat expectantly, and I got the message—I had to remove it, gravity could not play a part.

I lifted the bottom of the cups away from the flesh of both breasts, and watched them settle slightly under their own weight. Pulling the straps down her arms, my eyes were locked on the sight before me. After I tossed her bra over my shoulder on to the bed, I looked into her eyes. "They're still as beautiful today as they were yesterday."

Her face coloured with either arousal or embarrassment at the compliment, and remembering the new rule about touching, I reached my hands out to cup the two magnificent globes, squeezing each one slightly. She moaned again, and I decided that I liked that particular sound coming from her. I moved my index fingers and thumbs to her nipples, and before she realized what evil I was up to, I had once again taken hold of each nipple a little firmly, and rolled the two buds back and forth between my digits.

Her reaction was all that I had hoped for. Her breath hissed between her teeth in a ragged inhalation, and a new moan, much louder this time, started in her throat. Her fists clenched, her eyes squeezed shut, and a tremor moved over her entire body. I rolled her nipples again, a little harder this time, and she nearly fell down as the sensations overwhelmed her. I stepped in closer, and wrapped my arms around her, relinquishing her breasts for the moment.

After a minute of shaking, she looked up at me and said, somewhat accusingly, "You did that on purpose."

I grinned and said, "Guilty as charged."

"Not that I'm complaining, but why?"

"We're supposed to be learning about sex, and each other's sexuality, correct?" She nodded. "Well, what better way than to learn each other's triggers, and to practice at any opportunity? Besides, after watching you yesterday, and just now, I've come to the conclusion that I really like watching you have an orgasm, and I think I'll try to give you one whenever I can." She leaned forward and snuggled into my chest for a moment, then stepped back.

"I think we both still have too many clothes on."

"The mademoiselle is correct, and we need to rectify that." I reached out and popped the snap on her shorts, then pulled the zipper down. Putting my hands to her waist, I slipped them inside the waistband, and started sliding them over hips. She gave another of those delightful shimmies, and the shorts came free of her buttocks. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of her panties as those came into view, and proceeded to slide both garments down her legs. She seemed a little surprised that she was completely naked, as I think she expected to have the coverage of her panties for a moment or two more.

"It's more efficient this way; two at a time." I took a moment to revel in her beauty, then looked at her. "Do you want to do me, or should I just strip?"

"Oh, you wouldn't believe how much I want to do you, but for now I'll settle for taking your clothes off."

I blinked hard at hearing this. "You've been reading too much porn, I think."

She giggled as she reached for my t-shirt. I helped her get it over my head. Once it was off, she paused to run her hand over my chest, and then leaned in to kiss me a few times across my pectorals. As her lips reached one of my nipples, she sucked on it then lightly bit it with her teeth. My reaction stunned me, as I inhaled sharply, and a shiver went through me. My penis lurched as the sensation hit my groin. She swirled her tongue around the nipple, then leaned back to look up at me with a twinkle in her eyes.

"I'm glad to know that someone else has sensitive nipples."

"It's got to be you, because I've never felt anything like that before."

"Good. Maybe it's mutual. Now, let's get those shorts off, because I want what's in them." So saying, she grabbed the waistband of my shorts in her hands, and yanked them down to my knees in one motion. As my penis came free, it bobbed back to the horizontal, and hit her in the chin. Grinning impishly, she looked up at me from her bent-over position, then leaned forward and kissed the head softly.

The sensation shot through me, and my hips lurched forward at the touch of her lips. Looking straight at it, she softly said, "Later boy, later. We have other things to attend to first." She gave it another quick kiss, then pulled my shorts the rest of the way off. Standing up, she giggled. "He seems awfully eager this morning."

"He's remembering yesterday."

She smiled again. "Well, now the question is: do you shave before you shower, or after?"

I looked at her with a puzzled expression. "I don't shave much, so it's usually after I shower."

"Okay, then let's go wet and clean." She once again took hold of my penis, and started toward my bathroom. "You know, it really does make a good handle." Once in the bathroom, she let me go so I could open the shower door, and put out some towels.

I reached in to start the water, and adjust the temperature. My shower stall is a good size, and could easily accommodate the two of us. As we stood under the spray, she said, "Now, this shower is expressly for getting clean, so we need to keep the groping to a minimum, although a little excitement is fine."

"Groping?" I asked, sarcastically. "I'll have you know that I intend to fill my hands with lather, then glide them over every square inch of that perfect body, teasing and squeezing as I go. I don't grope; I fondle, caress, excite, and enjoy. Groping is for amateurs."

I followed my words with actions, filling my hands with lather, and covering every part of her body with soap. I worked up suds in her pubic bush, and down her legs to her feet. Her breasts and abdomen took extra time, and she started moaning again. As I finished her back, I crouched and worked my hands over the globes of her rear, then slid a hand between them to find her little anal pucker. I swirled the tip of a finger around it, but did not attempt any penetration.

Finally, I rinsed the soap off one hand and slid it between the lips of her sex, separating her labia, and questing for the bud of her clitoris. I circled it a few times, gently, then withdrew the hand, and stood up, taking her into my arms.

She was trembling, and moaning, and her breathing was ragged. "I said no groping. Look what you've done to me. I nearly came at least twice while you were..."

"I didn't grope. I fondled, caressed, excited and enjoyed. The fact that you got so turned on simply demonstrates a lack of self-control."

She ignored the comment, but closed her eyes again. After a moment, she looked up, and said, "New rule. We shower together whenever we can." As I nodded, she reached for the soap, and started to wash me, beginning with my chest and abdomen. As she did my back, she crouched and reached through my buttocks to my own anal entrance, rubbing it in the same way. I felt a jolt go through me, thinking that maybe our explorations should include a mapping of each other's erogenous zones.

She reached further to enclose my scrotum in her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze and moving my balls around in their sac. Finally, she knelt before me in the same manner as yesterday in the outdoor shower, and began stroking along my length with her soapy hand. After a moment, the motion stopped, and she removed her hand.

"I'm just making sure it's clean, not trying to make anything happen. That comes later." With that, she stood, and started rotating under the spray to wash off any lingering soap. We exchanged places, and I did the same, then turned the water off. We each took a towel, and started to dry the other, then left the shower.

Returning to my room, she spread her damp towel across my bed, then reached for the little backpack she had brought. As I watched her, she said, "I wasn't sure what kind of razor or shaving cream you used, so I brought my own, as well as a small comb and some scissors."

The question about shaving before or after my shower came back to me, and the full force of her meaning struck me. She had been obliquely asking whether we would shave each other before or after we had showered. It seemed that the time was now.

Sitting on the towel, she handed me the scissors and comb. "I think you should first comb my hair as straight as you can, then use the comb and scissors the way the barber does on your head. Keep the comb between the scissors and my skin, and you shouldn't cut anything tender."

"That depends on whether I can get my hands to stop shaking."

Softly, "I trust you. Your shaking will stop once you get into it. Now, give me a crew cut." She leaned back on her elbows, and spread her legs widely. I pulled over the chair from my desk, and lowered it to a more useable height. Placing it between her legs, I picked up the comb, and reached for her head. She looked at me in surprise and then I smiled and moved toward her nether regions.

I gently ran the comb through her pubic curls, finding that the hair was as curly as that on her head, and a little wirier. I gave up on straightening it, and simply made sure that the comb would pass easily through it, without snagging. After a few strokes, I picked up the scissors, and took a deep breath, looking in her eyes. She smiled, and said, "Do it."

I slipped the comb under the upper left side of her triangle, then snipped everything that stood up. Since that seemed to go without problem, I moved the comb lightly downward, and continued. After a few more repetitions of this manoeuver, I had reached the edge of her cleft, and she had a swath of new-mown hair down the left side of her triangle. It looked as if I had run a tiny lawnmower over the area, and I smiled as I pictured myself doing the 'yard work' with her mound as the lawn. She saw the grin, and asked, "What's so funny?"

Realizing that I had been caught, I elected to tell her what I had been thinking, and she giggled as I described myself 'mowing the lawn." I bent back to my task, and in a few minutes, she had her new crew cut. The hair around her opening was noticeably longer than the rest, but I felt unsure about using pointed objects in that area.

I combed through her entire bush, collecting all the long hairs onto the towel, then gathering those up in my hand. I took them to the bathroom, and flushed them away. When I returned, she said, "I think we'll need some hot water, and a wash cloth for the next step.

As part of the decorations my mother had placed in my bathroom, there was a chamber set, consisting of a medium sized bowl, and a pitcher, sitting on a shelf over the hamper. Whey she had ever decided these belonged in a boy's bathroom, I will never know, but I realized that they were perfect for the next task. I silently thanked her for insight, but also realized that she had likely never thought of the purpose for which they were about to be used. I filled the pitcher with hot water, tossed a wash cloth into the bowl, and returned to my bedroom.

She raised her eyes when she saw what I was using, and smiled, "How utterly charming, and practical." I rolled my eyes at her, and she giggled. "Wet the washcloth, and lay it over the remaining hair. It will soften the hair and the skin, and make the next part go more easily. I followed her instructions, listening to her moan as the heat enveloped her mound and vulva. A moment later, she said, "Shaving cream. Rub it in a bit with your fingers."

I sprayed the foam onto my fingers, then worked it through the hair, and down across the lips of her opening. She moaned a few more times while I did this. I rinsed my fingers in the bowl, and she handed me the razor. "Since the hair is thicker than on your face, the razor will clog more, and you'll need to rinse it out."

"I feel like I should have an old-fashioned straight razor, and a leather strop, and be standing here working the razor across the strop, talking about baseball scores."

"Ah, but if you slipped with a straight razor, you could cut off something important. If you slip with that razor, the worst you'll do is nick me."

"Good point." I bent to my task, and took the first stroke, starting again from the upper left. After each stroke of about an inch, I rinsed the razor and pulled any recalcitrant hairs from between its blades. In a few minutes, there was more bare skin than covered, and soon there was only the fringe left around her opening. Before moving on to the more delicate task, I lathered her mound again and made a second pass, to ensure that there was no stubble, or missed spots.

I realized that I would need to manipulate her labia in order to properly shave them, having to pull them taut as I worked. This meant that fingers moved through her petals, but traction was difficult to achieve, as she had become very wet. I was forced on more than one occasion to use the towel to dry her slightly so that I might finish the task. Soon, however, accompanied by her almost continuous moaning, there was no hair left around her vaginal opening.

By this point, her labia were in full flower, engorged and a dusky rose in colour. I reached to take one lip in each hand, and gently pulled to open them, exposing her clitoris. It was also engorged, and popped out from under its hood to signal its presence in bright pink. Being this close, and being sixteen, I couldn't resist the temptation, so I swiped a thumb over the top of her clitoris. Her hips bucked off the bed in response, and her legs snapped closed, or at least tried to, as I was trapped between them. Her moan became a yell, and a strong tremor moved over her body, at the same time as a dusky flush.

As she calmed down, and relaxed, she looked me in the eye, and I told her, "I will never get tired of seeing you do that. You are beautiful when you are in orgasm."

"Not to burst your bubble, but you need to check lower for any other hairs. Deducing her meaning, I lifted one of her legs to provide visual access, but found nothing, and told her so. With that, she handed me a bottle of skin lotion, and said, "Rub some of that into everything you shaved. It will help to prevent razor burn."

"I think we're both going to enjoy this part." She smiled at me, then laid back as I squirted some lotion into my hand, and placed my hand on her mound. I massaged the lotion into her skin, working from side to side, before moving my hand to her vulva. As I rubbed that area, she started moaning and trembling again, and I knew where she was headed. I spread my fingers slightly, opening her labia, and providing access to previously hidden folds.

As I reached the lowest point, I crooked my middle finger, and then dragged my hand back so that the finger would split her in two, but not penetrate anything. As the finger moved across her opening, her hips rose to meet my hand, but I moved it away at the same time to keep the pressure the same. Once again, I grazed across her clitoris, this time with the length of my finger. As the ball of my finger reached the tip, I stopped my movement, and rubbed its little peak with my fingertip.

Her reaction was exactly what I expected, and what I wanted. She shrieked in orgasm, her hips pistoning up and down, her eyes scrunching shut, and another flush crossed her body from her face to her legs. She hugged her arms to herself tightly, and moaned through the rest of the orgasm, tremors rocking her body. I still thought it was a beautiful sight to see.

She calmed after a moment or two, and her eyes opened, finally focusing on mine. "I think you've learned the masturbation lesson way too well. I don't think I'm going to have any energy left for the next part."

I made a dismissive noise, and said, "You'll be fine. Remember: 'the female recovers faster from an orgasm than the male.' You're the one who said that. Besides, the best way to learn a technique is to practice. Maybe we need to schedule some review lessons."

"I somehow doubt that you need any review of how to make me come via manual stimulation. I think you've been doing some additional research. It's your turn now, change places."

She got up from the bed, and walked over to the bathroom, taking the bowl and pitcher with her. Once there, she stopped to look in the mirror, and I could see her turning this way and that, and running her fingers over her denuded mound.

I heard water running as she rinsed the bowl and refilled the pitcher, then she returned. She moved to use the seat, and placed herself between my legs, eying my rampant erection. "I look like I'm about twelve years old again. I wonder what you'll look like."

I looked into her eyes, and said, "You're beautiful, regardless of what age you think you are. It occurs to me, though, that we may have made a slight mistake, at least in your case."

"Oh, what's that?"

"Well, remember your comment yesterday about the carpet matching the drapes?" She nodded, unsure where I was heading. "The problem is, now that is no longer true. You can't prove that you really are a true redhead. Perhaps we should have left some small reminder, rather than shaving you bare. Maybe a little soul patch, or a lightning bolt, or even a set of Mickey Mouse ears." At this point, I could no longer keep a straight face, and grinned broadly at her.

She looked pensive for a moment, and one hand went to her bare mound, running a few fingertips across it. "I like the bare feeling, because the skin is now so sensitive, but you might be right. A little patch, maybe a little triangle, high up, well away from my labia. They need to stay smooth, especially for what we'll be doing in a little while. Ah well, it's hair. It will grow back, and we can just leave a small area unshaved over the next few weeks. I think I'll probably need to be touched up every week, so this will be a regular occurrence."

My stalwart signalman twitched noticeably at this, relishing the chance to indulge in once more denuding her little mound. She chuckled, and then took hold of him, moving him around to see what the terrain looked like.

"Hmm, shaving the upper part will be pretty easy, because it's smooth skin, like me. The lower part will be a challenge, because your scrotum is very wrinkled. Of course, I suppose it's necessary to allow for expansion and contraction."

"Just be careful. I'm quite attached to those balls, and not looking forward to singing soprano."

"You might sound good as a member of the Vienna Boys Choir," she said with a big grin. "Not to worry, you know I'll be careful."

"I know, I trust you with sharp instruments around my man parts."

She snorted at this comment, then reached for the washcloth, and filled the bowl with hot water. Soaking the washcloth, she laid it over the upper areas of my groin, and absently fondled my penis for a moment. A moment later, she removed the washcloth, and started to lather me up.

The first strokes of the razor started at one side, and went from the top of my hair to the base of my shaft. She continued in this manner, moving my penis from side to side, until she was satisfied that there was no hair on the upper part of my groin. She wiped up any remaining traces of lather, and reviewed her work.

"You should thank me." I raised my eyebrows at her. "Your penis looks longer, since there's no hair hiding part of it." I rolled my eyes at her for this statement, as she gave a little giggle and bent to the next part of her task.

She ran the washcloth over my scrotum, and followed with the shaving cream. As she picked up the razor, she moved my penis toward my stomach, and pulled on a portion of the skin of my scrotal sac, tightening it and smoothing it for the razor. The scrape of the razor over the skin was very gentle, and I relaxed a little, knowing that she was competent in what she was doing. Within five minutes, she put the razor down, and washed the remaining lather off my sac.

"Done," she announced. "Would you like some lotion as well?"

"May as well; sauce for the goose."

She smoothed some lotion onto the upper part of my groin, then moved her lotion-covered hands to my scrotum, and carefully massaged it in, rolling my balls around in her fingers. "Enjoying the game of pocket pool?" I asked, which brought another giggle to her lips.

After deciding that I wouldn't likely suffer any ill effects of the shaving, she picked up the bowl and jug and returned them to the bathroom. After returning, she once again took hold of my penis, and started slowly stroking it in one hand.

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