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It was the year I got my first C-cup bra. I had been itching and uncomfortable in the chest for months, and sometimes the straps left painful red welts.

When we went shopping for a new bra the saleslady immediately saw that I had been squeezing into a B-cup for too long and I was overdue to move up to a bigger cup size.

"Goodness, you're as big as me now," my mother said.

It was a lot more comfortable. I knew when I got to school I was going to be the only girl in my 9th grade class with a C-cup, and the fact that my blouse was suddenly sticking out another inch would be noticed. I was a little embarrassed, but also proud.

I'm embarrassed to admit it, but most of the time I secretly enjoyed it when boys made a big deal about my chest and girls looked at it enviously. It started in the 7th grade, and it has never let up. I'm still in school -- I teach now -- and the boys still devote a generous portion of their classtime to the study of my mammary glands.

I was a 15 year old non-virgin in those days. I had had sex with 4 different boys, and it hadn't been particularly great with any of them, although I had tried maybe a dozen times with the most recent.

I had come once during foreplay in the front seat of a boy's car while he rubbed me through my panties, but that was the only time I had ever come with a boy, and in fact I had only come a few times while masturbating myself.

The new 34C bra was sensible white cotton underwear. Later, when I was visiting my best friend Cindy and told her about my new size, she got really interested and suggested I get a pushup bra and see if I had cleavage.

As her Mom was a 34C like me, and was out shopping, we snuck into her bedroom and borrowed one of her pushup bras and I tried it on. When I looked in the mirror I was impressed with the results. There was a nice, well- defined cleft between my breasts. I had cleavage.

I was finally a woman. Actually, I had told myself this before when I had my first period, and then when I lost my virginity, and then when I had my first orgasm. I had that "now I'm really a woman" feeling again when I saw the way my tits looked in that pushup bra.

That was the year I had my first older man. It was a couple of months later, getting on toward summer vacation. His name was Bruce. He was the husband of my mother's old school friend Alice, and they came out to visit for a long weekend. He was tall, and handsome, and dark-haired. He had a muscular build, but not like a body-builder, just sort of tapered.

It was crush at first sight. I had never met him before and something went twing inside me. Miss Pussy woke up and said meow. Alice hugged me and introduced Bruce and he shook my hand and the touch of his hand was like being touched by God. He smiled at me and I went weak inside.

Well, everyone was rushing in and out shopping and doing touristy things and no one paid much attention to me. The first chance I got to talk to Bruce alone I flirted with him. He drove me somewhere with Alice and we talked in the car. He was intelligent and charming and nice.

I'm sure Alice noticed that I was dripping for him, but I didn't care. She wasn't giving me any scratch your eyes out signals, although Bruce told me later that she had threatened to scratch his eyes out if he messed around with me. I think the fact that everyone except Bruce still saw me as the little kid with braces, instead of the girl with the biggest tits in her class (how could they not notice?), blinded Alice and my parents to what was going on.

The next morning Bruce was up early and was helping my little brother play a game on the computer terminal in the den. No sign of Alice or my parents, so I rushed through a very quick shower and lazily sauntered into the den where they were playing, wearing nothing but a towel around my torso and another around my hair.

Bruce could see my legs up to my butt, and a little cleavage peaking out at the top of my towel. My little brother was too riveted by the game to pay any atten- tion to me.

I wasn't wearing my glasses, and this was the first time Bruce had seen me without them. They tended to make me look a bit owlish, I felt at the time, and I could see well enough to do anything but read without them.

I made idle chit-chat with Bruce while he checked me out. I could tell he knew I was flirting with him, and he didn't try to hide that he was admiring my body. I made an excuse to lean over my little brother and hiked up the towel in back a little more, so that Bruce could see all the way up to the beginning of my ass. I was not wearing any underwear, and I did my best to make sure he could tell.

I spent at least half an hour flirting with him and managed to go upstairs and change without being seen by my parents or his wife. We couldn't really say any- thing in front of my little brother but I could tell that he liked me and was attracted. I didn't care about Alice, or the fact that he was married, in the least.

That night we were all playing a card game and I asked if someone could drive me to the store, looking straight at Bruce. I was hoping we could be alone and maybe park somewhere on the way back, and nature would take its course and he would kiss me (I hoped).

Alice (who had been distracted) said "What is she asking?" and Bruce said (in a very odd voice) "She wants someone to take her to the store," in a voice that made it sound like I was a bratty little kid pestering everybody, and my Mom looked up and said, "What do you need, dear?" and I flushed and said "Never mind, I'll get it tomorrow."

As soon as I could do so I made an excuse and left the table. I was so self-conscious, I felt like a big spotlight was shining on me and that Alice and my parents and everybody had seen right through my trans- parent attempt to get Bruce off alone.

Of course, as I did not realize until later, my Mom and Alice thought I needed tampons and that that was why I was acting funny and had to excuse myself, so I was in the clear.

I figured I wasn't fated to be kissed by Bruce after all, but two days later I got another chance. My Dad, Mom and sister went to church and Alice went with them, while Bruce slept in. Mom leaned in my doorway (I was still in bed) and told me they were going and asked me to make Bruce some breakfast when he got up. She gave me this look, like don't you try anything, but I guess she wasn't very worried about it.

So they all drove off except for Bruce and my little brother, and then I heard the door slam as my little brother went off to play with his friends down the block. He shouted that he was going over to Jimmy's or whatever the kid's name was, and I was pretty certain he would be gone for a couple of hours. So Bruce and I were alone at last, and I hadn't done anything to bring it about. Thank you God, I said to myself.

I quickly got out of bed and made myself pretty. I was still in my pajamas and I decided to just lose the pajama bottom and show my legs, so off it came. My pajama top came down far enough to almost cover my butt. I was not wearing a bra, and I pinched my nipples to make them stand out through my top.

Then I went in and woke up Bruce.

He was asleep. He was covered up to his chest by a blanket and was wearing a t-shirt. I stood at the edge of the fold-out bed, and poked him. He rubbed his eyes and woke up, and I giggled at him.

He could see see my thighs all the way up to my under- pants. I had checked myself out in the mirror and I knew what he was seeing -- my fat pussy mound was bulging out in my tight panties. I had been having a growth spurt down there in my ass/hips/pussy region, and the old mons veneris was clearly outlined.

Bruce didn't notice at first, as he was waking up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. I turned on a lamp.

He did notice then. He got a good look at my plump thighs and my tight underpants and my braless chest.

I climbed on top of him in the bed, straddling him, and rubbed his scratchy beard growth playfully and said "Get up, sleepyhead. I'm supposed to get you some breakfast."

"Where is everybody?"

"They've all gone to church, except for my brother, and he's gone out to play, so we're all alone." Hint, hint. I couldn't make it any plainer than that.

He took the hint. He had a big smiling grin on his face and he tousled my hair and said, "Alright then, why don't you make some breakfast. I'll go wash my face and come down in a minute." I was sorry he didn't grab me then -- we were only alone for a couple of hours and time was wasting -- but I went downstairs and he quick- ly shaved and splashed some water on his face and combed his hair and came down.

On the way I ducked into my room and grabbed a very tight tank-top t-shirt with a really low cut neckline and put it on under my pajama top, and then opened the top 2 or 3 buttons on my top. Then I said what the hell, and opened all of them except the last button.

I started breakfast -- nothing complicated since I couldn't cook much and didn't want to waste any of our time on food. I was leaning over the stove, and when Bruce came in I bent way over to get something I didn't really need out of a low cabinet, in order to show off my panty-clad ass.

"Breakfast will be ready in 5 minutes," I said, clear- ing my throat, and turned around to smile at him. He was leaning against the doorway and he was still in his underwear. His top was just a tight t-shirt, which showed off his fine chest muscles, and his under- pants --. Well. His underpants were just a jock strap. I didn't even know what it was called, although I had seen one before. It was what guys wore in the locker room, I knew. It didn't leave much to the imagination.

He had big, muscular legs, and strong thighs. His legs were just slightly hairy, but not really hairy if you know what I mean. And he had a big cylindrical bulge in his jock strap. It looked like he had a flashlight in there or something. If boys had cup sizes in their underwear he would definitely have been a D-cup.

He stood there in the doorway like he was posing for me, which he was. I could see his big heavy balls outlined in his underwear. He had clearly just gotten up and he was just as decent as I was, I guess, since I was standing there with my underpants showing too.

I stared at him and then I wanted him to come closer so I could get a better look, all thoughts of allowing him to get a better look at me forgotten. I wished I had my glasses on.

"We have a few minutes while the water boils," I said. "Why don't you come in the living room?" I walked past him through the doorway and brushed his arm with my hand as I passed, and he followed me. I sat down on the floor, on the Persian rug, sitting crosslegged so that my panties were plainly visible.

Bruce sat on the floor across from me, one leg doubled up, with his crotch against the carpet and the big bulge in his white cotton underwear sticking out where I could see it perfectly well. I casually stretched out one leg and spread my thighs wider to expose more of the crotch of my panties, hoping that they were tight enough that my pussy would be outlined. I was trying to give him a good eyeful.

His eyes flicked from my face down to my panties and back again, and he bit his lower lip in a sort of rue- ful boyish way. I was keeping an eye on his briefs while trying to watch him checking out mine, and I noticed that the sexy bulge in his jock strap jerked a little.

I pretended to yawn and stretch, fluffing my hair and thrusting my bust out as far as I could, the way I'd practiced in front of the mirror. My shirt could barely contain my braless tits, the big masses shifting around inside my t-shirt as I stretched.

I looked and saw his bulge twitch again. It was getting bigger as I watched. And bigger.

I was fascinated. There was clearly some kind of hydraulics involved and it reminded me of the time I visited a horse farm and watched a stallion getting ready to service a mare. When he got a whiff of the mare's pussy (she was in season) this big long thing suddenly just grew between his legs, shooting out like a length of fire hose and stiffening into a long pole the size of a baseball bat. If my friend Brenda hadn't been there I would have reached out and touched it, to feel what it felt like. It wasn't until years later that I realized that she had probably felt the stallion's erection herself, when no one was around to see, and I could have just asked.

I forced myself to stop staring at Bruce's erection, and looked at his face. He was flushed, or maybe he was blushing. I couldn't decide. I was as cool as a cucumber, because I knew exactly what I wanted. He was the one who was nervous.

We made small talk about something inconsequential and I made playful reference to how big and strong he was and asked if I could feel his muscles, and then I crawled up next to him and felt them. He smelled good, up close. Or maybe it was just our hormones. While I squeezed his big muscles and giggled I felt my pussy starting to get excited and swollen.

He was making dry, mocking little jokes at me and wasn't starting anything. I decided I would have to do something to get the ball rolling, so I sort of dared him to wrestle me, by asking if he thought he was strong enough to pin me down. Well, we mock-wrestled for a minute and I flipped over and wriggled out of his grasp, slippery as an eel.

He grabbed me and rolled back, so that I fell across his chest, and I reached down to grab his leg and as I did so my hand accidentally brushed against his crotch and I felt his bulge. Ohmigod, it was big and hard and warm. I didn't touch it on purpose and I was mortified thinking that he might think I had.

While I was still trying to get my breath back and stop blushing after my accidental grope when he flipped me over, and then all of a sudden there I was lying pinned on my back, and he was on top of me. His hands were pinning my shoulders down and his thighs were pressing against mine, and I could feel that big jock strap thing pressing against my tummy.

As he held me down and I giggled and shrieked and I felt his big bulge touching me, he slowly began sliding down until I could feel his warm erection rubbing my timid muff right through my panties.

He had me pinned down, and my now unbuttoned pajama top had fallen away to the sides. My firm breasts were perfectly outlined by my tight t-shirt with my hard nipples sticking up like thimbles. He looked at them, and looked at me, and I was breathing hard and without a word he slowly rubbed his full jock strap against me, through my panties.

I could feel his big hard banana in there. He had a full, rock hard erection now. I was getting moist down there, and the little man in the boat was going to be afloat pretty soon. I spread my thighs apart and he just sort of fell in between them, with his thing lay- ing right in my groove and bumping my clit.

"You are so strong," I said (once I got my breath), since with only two thin layers of cotton separating our genitals we were still pretending that we were just wrestling, and that the fact that our things were rubbing against each other was just an accident. "Why don't you take that t-shirt off so I can see how big your muscles are?"

"Okay", he said. He took his hands off me for a minute and I tried to break free, without success. Then he stripped off his top and I could see his big shoulders and his brawny chest.

"Oh my. You're so manly," I teased. What a hunk, I was thinking, as I admired his gorgeous body. He was now entirely naked except for his jock strap. My pussy was very excited. I don't think it had ever dripped this hot and wet for any male before. I could feel a damp spot in my panties and I wondered if he could smell my lubrication.

"Now it's your turn. You have to take your shirt off so I can see your muscles," he laughed.

"Let me sit up," I said, and when he did I took off the pajama shirt, in a teasing, strip-tease sort of way.

He took in the way my tight little undershirt stretched over my tits and smiled and licked his lips. I tugged the shirt down taut to show my cleavage, and since he was watching with a big smile I smirked at him and teased him by pulling it down tight even farther, a couple more inches. I had about four inches of cleavage showing, and if I went any farther my nipple would pop out. I leaned forward with my arms pinning my breasts together, and the chasm between my tits was like a canyon.

"How's that?" I teased in a soft, sultry voice.

"It's no fair," he laughed. "You've got another shirt on underneath. You have to take off that one, too."

"Noooo way! I can't," I giggled.

"Why not? I took off mine and showed you my chest," he said with a grin.

"Because then you could see my --" dramatic pause -- " breasts." I was looking him in the eyes and kind of daring him to go farther.

"What breasts, you little tomboy?"

"The breasts you've been staring at. For god's sake, I'm not even wearing a bra. You can see everything."

"I think I'll have a look for myself," he said. Then he jokingly grabbed my t-shirt and started to peel it off. I fought back as ineffectively as I could, and let him win. As I let him strip it off I shrieked and covered my naked tits with my hands, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You can't see them. No." I said.

"We'll see about that," he replied. He started wrestling with me again, and he pushed me back down and got on top of me, as I defended my breasts. Then he firmly peeled my hands off my chest and pinned them back, and my creamy jugs were naked to his gaze.

He took in my titties appreciatively. "That's a big pair of breasts you have there, Jenny."

"Thank you." I blushed. Probably only 8 or 9 boys had ever seen them, and he was the first grown man other than a doctor or my father (by accident).

"You're bigger than Alice, I think." Alice wore padded bras and even with the padding she wasn't as big as me.

"Yes, I think so." (Touch them! I tried to telepath at him.)

"What do the boys call you at school?"

I blushed furiously. "They used to call me The Bosom. That started in the 7th grade. Some of them call me W.W., which is short for Windshield Wipers."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "I've heard them called head- lights, but I've never heard them called windshield wipers before."

"It's because of my last name, Wanshel. Get it? Kids have been calling me "Windshield" since I was in elementary school, and when these things started grow- ing on my chest they decided they were my windshield wipers."

"I take it you were bigger than the other girls."

"Yes. I was probably the only girl in the 7th grade who needed a real bra instead of a training bra. One of the girls used to take the locker next to mine so she could stare. She asked me what I did to make them grow so big."

"And are they still growing?"

"Of course. I just moved up to a C-cup," I said proudly. "I'll probably be a D before I graduate, and I hope it levels off then, because DD would be just too big." (As it happened, I got my wish and did level off at a D-cup size, a few years later.)

"You've got nice big nipples, too. Are they always that hard?"

"Oh, they're not that hard." They were so hard they hurt, actually.

Holding both of my hands with one of his he tweaked my nipples with his free hand, and I almost died. It was like heaven feeling him touch me there. I think I must have turned red in the face and gasped. He was breath- ing hard too.

"Oh, god. Nobody ever touched me like that before," I said.

"I don't believe it. I bet a few boys have felt them."

"Well, maybe a few." It didn't feel like the times I got groped before, at all, except maybe for the first time I felt a boy's hand under my bra, which was a big surprise -- not just having a hand there, but that it felt good. "I'm not very sexually experienced. You can touch them some more, if you want." He fully intended to, anyway.

He stroked them softly, and my mouth fell open and I panted out loud at the intoxicating sensation of his big masculine hands making love to my breasts. After stroking them for a bit he began to squeeze and knead them, and it felt wonderful and sexy. My nipples stuck out farther than I knew they could.

Meanwhile, things were gushing right along down in the crotch area. He was lying between my legs again (guess I must have opened them) and he had started this slow sliding up and down motion, along my groove, and my panties were getting soaked. In fact they were really slippery as my vagina seemed to be drooling and he was slipping right up and down in my slot.

I had been humping back against him rhythmically with- out even realizing it, and now I started to do it de- liberately, because it felt good.

I reached behind him and touched his ass. His jock strap left most of his gorgeous buttocks uncovered and I couldn't resist clutching them while he pawed my tits. I got two handfuls of his magnificent butt and pulled him in tight as he thrust.

My clit was sticking out hard in my panties, between the lips of my engorged and inflamed pussy. His whole length was rubbing it as we humped against each other. It was driving me wild.

Then he put his hand down and stroked me from my knees up the length of my plump thighs all the way to my clit, and I nearly came right then. I gasped a little.

So this is what adult sex is really like, I thought. Not like that unsatisfying sticky fumbling in Mike Barnard's basement, when he shot come all over my dress, or the painful experience I had, letting an older boy break my tight little cherry on the ratty old couch in his basement rec room, one day after school. This was the real thing, a man and a woman.

If this kept up I was going to experience the ecstasy that I had read about in books. I first learned about orgasms from a smutty Harold Robbins novel I found hidden in my Mom's closet, which I read while sitting in a pile of shoes, right there in her closet with the door closed, fondling myself under my pleated skirt during the good parts. When the spoiled, frigid American rich girl got her clothes ripped off by the virile Italian peasant and her naked boobies gleamed in the moonlight and he forced himself on her until she gasped "yes" and had her big O, I had my first big O too, masturbating in that stuffy little walk-in closet until it happened, two weeks after my 14th birthday.

I wanted to get fucked like the women in books. I looked at Bruce and I couldn't form the words "fuck me please" with my mouth, but I thought them. I put my lips to his ear but I couldn't say it. My mouth was dry, my heart was pounding in my chest, and nothing came out but a moan and a little whimper.

I guess he knew what I wanted, because he rolled off me and in one swift move he grabbed my underpants by the waistband and peeled them right off. I had to scoot my bottom up a bit to let him accomplish this, so I guess he knew at that point that I was cooperating and I was not going to cry rape. I was only 15 and he was over 30 so it was statutory rape anyway, but I doubt I realized that then.

My naked chestnut-brown muff lay open to his gaze. I crossed my legs tightly and covered my pubic hair with my hands, squealing "oh, no!" and again he peeled my hands off and got between my legs and spread them apart.

And then I quit pretending to fight him and shyly spread them out wider, so he could do what he was going to do.

He was kneeling there between my arched, spread legs and I saw his jock strap again. And I didn't even know to be impressed by what I saw, because his dick was sticking right out of the top of his briefs and it was huge. It looked twice the size of the dicks on the boys I had been with. The head was big and thick around and sort of plum colored, and the shaft was reddish, down to where it disappeared into his strap.

And then he peeled off his strap and let it hang out, and it sort of jumped out with a spring and hung dangling in the air between his thighs. It was too damn big and heavy to stand up straight. It was the biggest penis I had ever seen.

I've only been with four or five really big-dicked, well-hung men in my life, and he was the first. I honestly did not have any idea that there was such a thing as a big penis, except on a horse. I didn't have any idea what I was supposed to do. This may hurt a little, I thought.

Miss Pussy did not register a protest by clamping up and going dry, so I guess it didn't scare her. It was beautiful to look at. It was perfectly tapered and molded, hard and flaming pink, with a graceful helmet curving into a faint slit at the end.

His big penis seemed to be looming over me and I reached out my hand and touched it. It was hard and velvety. It twitched and I jerked my hand back in surprise.

I wondered how it could possibly fit in me and I remembered an expression I heard a girl at camp use once, "like fitting a two by four through a keyhole".

He leaned forward and started to rub the head of the big shaft against my slot, and I sort of went "oooh" and closed my eyes and started to drift away. So this is womanhood, I thought. I am about to get fucked by a big-dicked man.

I decided that all adult males must be that size, since I had only been with boys before. I was surprised and not a little disappointed later to discover that this was not the case.

Bruce continued to pet my pussy luxuriously while he put his mouth on my breasts and sucked. I was sensitive and tender there, and it was like lightning hit my nipples. His tongue flicked across my breasts and lapped up the sides of my nipples.

He continued to stroke my cunt alternately with his hand and his dick, warming my clit up to the point where I thought I would go crazy. I felt the big smooth shaft slipping past the mouth of my wet hole. My pussy was sucking wetly at it, trying to suck him in.

He played with my breasts and reached around and fondled my ass and our bodies writhed and entwined and we rutted against each other.

Just when I thought I would go mad if I had to wait any longer for him to put it in, he kneeled back so that he was between my legs with the head of his dick against me, and started to put it in.

I felt his hard knob touch the rim of my hole. My pussy lips were spread, my hole was gaping eagerly open as far as an inexperienced schoolgirl's hole could gape, and I could feel my juices drooling into my crack and running down my ass, but the knob on the end of his dick was wider than my hole.

It was a tight fit. It didn't want to go in at first, but we both wanted it to go in. I wanted him to get it inside me as much as I had ever wanted anything in my life. So with a little straining and grunting -- "Is this okay?" he asked -- "Yes! Go ahead!" I panted -- the head started to go in a little further on each try.

At first maybe only a quarter of an inch went in, then I stretched a little and maybe half an inch of the head went in. If my parents come home before he gets it in I'll die, I thought.

I lay back and rested the soles of my feet on his thighs, to open myself up more. Just like at the gynecologist with my feet in the stirrups. He grabbed my hips with his hands and pulled me against him, which was a deliciously heady sensation but didn't get him in any deeper. I reached down with my hand and held his dick and tried to guide it into me. It was very hard, and so thick around that my hand would not go around it.

I think we got a better angle at that point, or some- thing, because it did slip in further, and I felt this big stretchy thing invading me, like the way it felt when I lost my cherry at the ripe young age of 12.

Then I leaned back and relaxed and let him do it, and after a little while of poking back and forth I felt the head slip all the way in.

Once the head was in the rest should have been easy, since I was not a virgin, but it was so damn big. I didn't say "Oh, you're so big" while we were were doing this because I assumed he was normal and I was just an inexperienced, tight little girl who had been fool- ing around with adolescent boys in the training bra stage of penis development. I was only 15 and I really didn't know any better.

Now that he had the knob past the first barrier he was able to stroke in and out a little, just the first inch or so, and I was stretching a bit wider to accommodate him. It was uncomfortable at first, like if you open your mouth as wide as you can to try to swallow some- thing too big for it -- that's what it feels like.

I was worried about my parents coming home but we had all the time in the world. I had forgotten about the water boiling away on the stove, but there was no harm done except to the finish on the pot, fortunately.

Bruce proceeded slowly and tenderly, taking his time, not forcing it, letting me open up and take more of him in.

I wanted him to fuck me and he smelled so sexy. My first grown man. I felt like I was in love. He went in and out of the first inch of my pussy for a while, and when I opened up a little more he went in deeper. And then I was getting stroked with two inches. This went on inch by inch, and I went back and forth between moments of painful discomfort and near ecstasy.

When I felt him stretching the walls of my vagina I began to wonder if a girl my age getting herself fucked by a grown man was such a good idea.

I was afraid he was going to tear me and I would bleed, but I didn't want him to stop. I looked at his big dick when it popped out and the wetness glistening on it was just my natural juices, no blood, so I relaxed.

I wonder today at Bruce's staying power in my tight teenage twat. He was a married man and I guess he had had plenty of practice, because he was able to keep it up and keep going until I was finally relaxed and open all the way and he went in as far as he could. I didn't know if he was bottoming out at the bottom of my pussy, or if he was at the end of his seemingly endless dick, but he was finally in me up to the hilt.

That big thing hadn't split me in half after all.

He lay on me, breathing hard, and I wrapped my legs around him and hugged him in triumph. Big girl, with a big man inside her.

Then he finally kissed me. I had been waiting for it and his mouth was finally on mine. Our kiss was long and sweet, and I pushed my tongue into his mouth and he pushed his tongue into mine and we sucked hungrily at each other. It was like our faces were clamped together.

He lay still inside me and my pussy adjusted to his size. His hairy groin rutted against mine gently and bumped my clitoris in a very nice way. I felt his big balls tickling my ass, and reached down to feel them. They were like two eggs in a sack.

"Are you ready?" he said, raising himself on his hands and peeling our sticky, sweaty bodies slightly apart.

"Ready for what?" I asked. I did have the vague feeling that since I hadn't even known how big adult men's penises were there might be something coming I needed to be ready for.

"This," he said.

And then he pulled himself almost all the way out of my pussy, till I could feel his plummy head spreading my lips, and then slowly pushed all the way back in. And then he went all the way in and back out again, and proceeded to fuck me in and out, slowly and gently. (Oh, ready for that, I thought.)

His big dick slid up and down in my pussy, smooth and sweet. It was like a velvet piledriver. I lay back, spread my legs and enjoyed it. It felt so strong and powerful inside me. I started to fuck him back, hesitantly at first, pushing my pubic mound up to meet him on the down strokes.

He pulled my legs up so that my ankles were next to my ears, resting against his shoulders, and he pulled my ass up to him and slid in really deep, and banged me in the cervix. Ow! I told him to stop and we went back to missionary position.

He resumed his slow, rhythmic humping of my soft pussy and kissed me while we fucked.

We went on fucking like that for a while and it felt better and better and we kissed some more and he played with my breasts. I was beginning to wonder if I might even have an orgasm, after all.

As I got more relaxed and into it he slowly increased his speed and strength, fucking me harder and faster.

"Is this okay?" he asked.

"It's okay," I whispered. "Fuck me hard, darling."

"I don't want to hurt you, sweetheart." (He called me sweetheart!)

"You're not hurting me. It's wonderful."

He fucked harder. This big male stud was fucking my brains out. I closed my eyes, and as he rode me I fantasized that he was a horse, a big black stallion, that had mounted me, and I was a frightened little mare feeling him go deep, deep inside her. I was making little shivering noises in my throat and trembling as we made love.

Our bodies were locked tightly together and I felt like I was starting to sweat like a pig. Mother always said "a lady doesn't sweat, she glows", so I guess I was glowing like a lady.

Not only had I never been with a boy with a dick this big, I had never been with one who had real staying power and stamina. I figured later that he must have been inside me, pumping in and out continuously as we fucked on the floor, for over half an hour.

That was a record for me. Two boys had come in my hand before they even got in, and two minutes seemed about the standard once you got a boy inside you, if you were lucky.

It was the first time I had screwed on a floor. I was getting rugburns on my ass and didn't realize it until later, when it hurt.

Bruce was pounding into me like a jackhammer now, breathing hard and grunting. I was grunting and squealing with my heels in the air. I could barely walk straight afterward, but at that moment it was heaven.

I was making noise, whimpering things like "Yes, Bruce, yes! Oh god, yes, oh god. More. Don't stop! Fuck me." I had noticed in books that the woman was supposed to say things like this when a man had sex with her, and moan a lot. The moans were coming without any effort as he was opening up places inside me where no man had gone before (as Captain Kirk used to say).

His big shaft kept plowing into me, stroke after stroke after stroke. I was humping back hard with my pussy without even thinking about it, raising my ass a little above the floor, fucking him back as hard as I could.

Oh god, that big dick of his. I get swoony just think- ing about it, even today. I was not even trying to come, I was just fucking on automatic pilot without even thinking about it.

After longer than I had known sex could last, I gradually began to get that feeling down there that I did not yet know very well, like something was going to happen, like a sneeze or needing to pee or something swelling to bursting. It was coming closer and closer, and I knew what was coming and I couldn't stop it even if I had wanted to.

Part of me was saying "no, not yet, wait, wait, hold back" to the explosion that I felt coming on, and then I couldn't stop it from going off any longer and it burst, gloriously.

I said "OH! OMIGOD! OH!!!" very loudly, not really a scream, and clamped my legs and arms around him very hard and panted into his shoulder and he kept fucking me steadily and I just came and came.

It was not a multiple orgasm. It was one long drawn- out orgasm, with peaks and valleys, that kept going even higher each time it crested. I honestly thought I might faint if he didn't stop, and he didn't stop. God, it was wonderful. It was only the fifth or sixth orgasm I had had in my life and it was far and away the best, then and for years afterward. My pussy was throbbing and spasming so hard that tears were coming to my eyes.

The earth moved, the heavens opened, and if space aliens had picked that moment to blow up the world, it wouldn't have seemed very important.

It took a few minutes for me to come back to earth. When I calmed down and got my breath back I started stroking him gently with my hands, my wonderful stallion lover, and he was kissing me and kissing my breasts and stroking my thighs, and I gently floated down from my cloud. I felt like a new girl.

"I need to go put on a condom," he whispered. (If you think he might have noticed that I had had what was virtually a religious experience, and that I was no longer the little girl who had shown him her boobs an hour before, you obviously have little experience with men.)

I wanted to feel him come inside me, but I was also afraid to get pregnant, so I said "Okay" (feebly -- if he had wanted to come in me I would have let him, and worried about the consequences later. I was not in my right mind) and he pulled all the way out of me with a big wet splort! sound and made record time running upstairs to get a condom out of his suitcase. He came back and rolled it on while I watched in amazement (how did that tiny rubber thing fit over such a great big penis?) and I lay back and put my arms around him and we went back to fucking.

He started off with a steady, regular stroke and as he got closer to his orgasm he went wild and started pounding me like a madman, holding his weight off me with his hands on the carpet while his dick hammered me like crazy. He was thrusting furiously, banging me across the floor with my hair flailing.

I had a mini-orgasm and another, my pussy triggering as he thrust, and then I felt his orgasm as he impaled me deep and his big throbbing dick gushed into me, deep inside me. I was wrapped so tight around him that I felt him coming like it was me, as his big thing swelled even bigger and then shot the condom full of sperm.

I wanted to feel his wet sticky stuff inside me, shooting into my little womb, but it was not to be. He shuddered and collapsed on me in sweaty disarray, and I kissed and caressed him as he came. It took about a minute for him to be done.

Then, of course, we peeled ourselves apart again, and he went and flushed the condom down the toilet, and we got dressed and had breakfast.

I had kept my pajama top under my ass while we were fucking so I wouldn't leave a wet spot on the rug, but there was a little faint damp spot on the rug anyway, in a dark part of the pattern where it didn't show. I did my best to get it out, and sprayed the room with air freshener.

We didn't talk about it much before our respective families got home. I couldn't say what I was think- ing -- I'm only half your age, you're married and I love you -- and I couldn't imagine what he was think- ing. When we heard the car in the driveway he gave me one long sweet kiss, and then we went back to being on a formal basis.

They flew back home the next day. I didn't dare write him or anything. He didn't dare write or call me, if he wanted to, and I didn't know if he did. My teenage head had been completely blown by that titanic orgasm. I gradually realized (after crying my eyes out on Cindy's shoulder several times) that he was a happily married man who lived far away and that I had to put him out of my mind.

After that I had some kind of a thing about older men for a while, and attempted a couple of unsuccessful seductions. I had just had beginner's luck with Bruce. It was a long time before I saw him again.


Comments

  • Anonymous said:
    3 years ago
    Very good story..had me jerk by myself
  • Anonymous said:
    3 years ago
    Had me jerking off
  • Anonymous said:
    4 years ago
    Very hot. Thank you.