Even though we waited online at the snack bar for ten minutes, it turned out neither one of us was hungry. I bought a large soda for us to share. As soon as we got back to the car, Suzie Bowen put the soda on the floor, got up on her knees on the bench seat, and stripped off her polo shirt again. She leaned forward and kissed me, then went once more for the button on my jeans.

“Can you pull these down some?” she said, and I lifted my ass and yanked my jeans and underwear halfway down my thighs. She pulled up my t-shirt a bit and I finished peeling it off. She leaned forward and kissed me again, her warm bare breast pressing against my upper arm, her hand going down between my legs and wrapping around my erection. We French kissed while I fondled her tit and she stroked me. Then she pulled away, scooted back a bit on the seat, and lowered her head into my lap. I watched her as she closed her eyes and parted her lips. Then, for the first time, I felt the silkiest imaginable warmth envelop the swollen head of my cock.

I imagined her reflecting on the books that she’d been reading as her lips firmly but gently caressed the head and shaft of my hard cock. As if the words, the narratives about sucking off a swollen dick, were going through her mind. She didn’t bob frantically up and down. I never felt a hint of teeth graze the skin. She twisted her head carefully from side to side. I held one of her dangling breasts while she sucked me.

She paused and breathed onto the head of my dick, “Do you like this?”

“Yes,” I panted.

“What do you like?” slowly stroking up and down my length with her hand.

“What you’re doing. I like what you’re doing.”

“Say what I’m doing,” taking my cock between her lips again.

“You’re blowing me.” She made pleasurable murmurs as she continued to fuck my dick with her mouth.

“I’m sucking you,” she said.

“Yeah, you’re sucking me.”

“You know the rule, right?” she said, pausing.

“I’ll tell you when I’m about to come,” I said.

“The woman in the book said when I’m ready to take your load, I should use both my hand and my mouth together. Give a little twist with the hand, all the way up to the head.” She brought her hand into play and started doing just that. The increase of stimulation and sensation on my cock was immediate and considerable. “She said you should talk, too.”

“Me?”

“No, me,” she said. She stopped again, took her mouth from me, and squeezed my shaft, making my cockhead swell. “Are you close?”

“A little more of what you were just doing and I’m going to come.”

“Good,” she said. “I want to feel your cum shoot in my mouth. I’m going to swallow it.”

She went back to stroking and sucking me, but her words did as much to hasten me along as her actions, and my orgasm was barreling down on me.

“Oh, shit, you’re going to make me come,” I said emphatically.

“Mmm-hmm, mmm-hmmm,” she sucked and twisted.

“Here it comes,” I grunted. “Take it.”

She kept murmuring and moving my cock in and out of her mouth as it pulsed and pumped what felt like a copious quantity of semen. I swore I could feel the force of the stream coursing all the way from the base of my dick. I watched the fine muscles of her throat rippling as she swallowed my sperm. I was getting blown. Sucked off. I was coming in a girl’s mouth and she was swallowing it, she was eating my cum. The hottest thing that had ever happened to me was also the hottest thing I’d ever seen.

She sat back on her heels on the bench seat. I could see she was sweating, her bare tits gleaming in the half light. She retrieved the soda from the floor and sucked some through the straw.

 “Cum and Coke,” she deadpanned.

.:.

“I’m glad I did that.”

“I’m glad you did that, too,” I said.

“No, I mean, I’m glad I wanted to do it.”

I didn’t repeat myself; it wasn’t necessary. In fact, I was conscious of a need to tread carefully, and weigh my words and actions. This might be a dream, or she might have been under some kind of spell, and I didn’t want to do or say anything that would snap her out of it. I was even worried that saying “Take it” when I started shooting in her mouth—it just came out; I hadn’t meant to say it—was maybe, I don’t know, too aggressive or something, the kind of thing that could piss her off.

“I’m afraid I’m going to become a sex fiend,” she said, sipping Coke. She was still topless, reclining against the passenger door.

“Naw,” I said. Yessss, I thought. “You’re just, you know, experimenting.”

I felt like I should anonymously send her mother candy and flowers for creating the Sex Box.

I was still almost naked as well, my jeans and shorts yanked down past my knees. My cock was mostly soft and resting against my bare thigh. When I saw her staring at it, I felt it begin to twitch back to life.

She said, “It was really exciting when you said you were going to come and told me to take it.”

“It just came out. It was really exciting for me when you said you wanted to swallow my cum.”

“I think it’s still exciting for you,” watching my cock continue to stiffen.

“Certain words,” I said, twisting to face her more, opening my legs a bit. “Hearing certain words can really be kind of hot. Like when you said about taking my load.”

“I know,” she said. “I like when the characters say raunchy things to each other while they’re having sex. A lot of descriptions are good, too, but I get most turned on when they say certain things, like you said.”

“What other things?” I said. But she looked down and shook her head.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” I said. “We’re sitting here, the both of us practically naked.”

She looked up again, focusing on my lower half, my fully erect dick and balls on display for her now, an arm’s length away.

“You’re bad,” she breathed.

“I want to see your pussy again,” I said. She looked me in the eye and held my gaze as she undid her shorts and slid them down, removed one leg from them completely. She mirrored how I was sitting, one bent knee up on the car seat, the other foot on the floor.

“There it is,” she said. “You’re certainly getting to see a lot of it tonight.”

“I guess you don’t mind.”

“I guess not.”

I knelt on the seat and started running my hand up her leg.

“When you came in my mouth it still seemed like a lot,” she said. “If I hadn’t already made you come, I don’t know if I could have swallowed it all.”

“It was your first time,” I said. “Mine too.” I didn’t tell her that that was actually my third pop of the day, not the second. The idea of saving up a couple days’ worth of jizz to put her new cum swallowing skills to a real test turned me on enormously.

“What are you planning on doing?” She was watching my hand stroking higher and higher up her thigh. I put my index and middle fingers in my mouth to moisten them with my spit, then ran them over her slit.

“I want to put my fingers in you again,” I said.

She slouched down further on the seat until her head was propped against the armrest. Slowly, I began to work the tips of my two fingers between her folds. She grunted softly as I moved them deeper into her hole. I was close enough that she could reach my cock. She took in her palm, underhanded, and started to lightly tug it.

“Deeper,” she said, so I went deeper. I could feel her insides opening around my fingers, and I began to pump them in and out, but slowly.

“Keep fucking it,” she whispered.

My urge was to go fast but I restrained myself, trying to build up the speed slowly.

“I want to make you come again,” I said. “I want you to come all over my hand like you came all over my mouth.”

“Oh yeah,” she breathed. “Finger me. Finger me.”

She was still performing an underhanded jacking of my cock. It was kind of erratic; she pumped it fast and then would stop, concentrating on what was going on between her legs. But it felt good nonetheless, and I was okay with that. I thought there was a better than even chance that she might suck it again tonight.

“Finger me,” she repeated. “Yeah… yeah… finger my…” she paused, then said, almost inaudibly, like she was trying it out, “cunt.”

“Take it,” I said. “Take it.” I figured, hey, she liked hearing that before. Why not?

“Yeah, yeah, that’s it.” Her voice was strained, pitched higher. “Finger that cunt… finger that horny cunt… my cunt… fuck my cunt…”

“Oh, fuck,” I cried, and suddenly shot my load, a single forceful stream that painted a line up the inside of her thigh. I practically didn’t feel it coming until it did, but her words and the sound of her voice pulled me over the edge, and it caught me completely by surprise.

“Uhhhnnnnn,” she moaned and bucked, looking down at the cumshot stretched along her leg, her bare ass thumping up and down hard on the seat. I continued to spasm but the rest of my load just oozed out over her wrist. She grabbed the hand I was using to fuck her and held it fast, staying my thrusting but keeping my fingers buried inside her as her orgasm wound down.

She used up all the napkins in the glove box to clean herself. We lowered the windows to defog and air out the car, and both sat in silence watching the last twenty minutes of Moonraker.

“This seems kind of dumb,” she said at one point.

“It does,” I said. “We might have to come back and not watch it again.”

She didn’t say anything, just sat there and sucked down the last of the Coke.

I dropped her off and drove home. I stripped, put on a pair of loose gym shorts, and flopped down atop the sheets. Air conditioning was a luxury back in those days, so whatever air wafted through the screens in my bedroom window was the only relief. The night was close and insect-loud. I thought about jerking off; the recollection of Suzie Bowen swallowing my cum and telling me to fuck her cunt would have been enough to get me off one more time, but I knew it would still probably take a while, and result in me soaking the bedding with sweat and shooting blanks. I remember thinking that finally, after all these months, maybe The Imbecile and I had forged a mutual interest.

Suzie Bowen called me early the next morning. I was awake, but still in bed, casually sanding down the edges of my morning wood, thinking about her swallowing my cum (and in half-disbelief that it actually happened) when my mother yelled up the steps to come down and get the phone. I pulled on shorts and a t-shirt. My mother was frowning at the bottom of the steps.

“Why is she calling so early?” she said. “Didn’t you just see her last night?” My mother didn’t like Suzie’s mother, Stella, and so by association didn’t like Suzie.

“I don’t know,” I said. “She must want something.”

Suzie said, “Were you still sleeping?”

“No, I was awake. Just up in my room.”

“Were you masturbating?”

“What? No.”

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” I lied. “I was thinking about it, but… yesterday was a, um, very busy day. So I wasn’t feeling a strong need at the moment.”

“You need to come over here,” she said.

“Now?”

“Yes, now. My mother’s gone, there’s no one here.”

“Okay, but, I’ve got to work today. My shift at the grocery starts at 10.”

“It’s only 8. So come over here first and then go there.”

“I’ll be done by six,” I said. “I can come over then.”

“And my mother will be home at 6, and for the rest of the night. Would you rather masturbate in the shower this morning, or have me suck you off and swallow your load?”

Suzie Bowen answered the door wearing a short satin robe, loosely belted, and looked as sexy as hell. She bolted and chained the front door behind me, then led me into her bedroom and locked that door as well. The Bowens house was even smaller than ours, a sort of quasi-ranch, everything on one floor over a finished basement. Her bedroom was tiny, cramped. I’d only been in it a few times. There were a couple of Penthouse Letters booklets in the tangle of sheets on her bed. Suzie had already shed her robe and gotten down on her knees while I was still giving the place the once-over. She yanked me toward her by my belt, then started undoing it while I pulled off my shirt.

I looked down her, completely naked on her knees, as she cradled my balls and took the head of my flaccid cock between her lips and began to suckle it. I thickened into a meaty hardness in less than a minute, and she immediately began that technique from the previous night, using her mouth and hand in tandem. She only stopped sucking occasionally to speak.

“Don’t hold back,” she said. “I’ve been thinking about eating your cum all morning.”

Her tits looked amazing, with those big, dark areolas tipped with stiff nipples. I took both in my hands and played with them while she sucked me.

“Shit, you’re going to make me come,” I said. My legs started shaking. I put my hands on her shoulders to try to steady myself.

“Give it to me,” she said, pumping my dick. “Make me take it. Shoot your hot cream in my mouth. Fill it.”

That was it for me.

“Oh, fuck,” I said. “Here it comes. Take it. Take my cum. Take that hot… fucking… cum…”

The first spasm felt strong and the force of it caught her off guard. She choked, then coughed, and cum sprayed out around the cock still in her mouth and splattered my lower abdomen. But she kept sucking and pumping as I continued spurting jizz into her mouth.

When I’d finished, she let my cock drop from between her lips. She brought her hand up to her mouth, bent her head, and let a generous load of semen spill from her lips into the palm of her hand. Then she started coughing, trying to clear her throat.

“Sorry,” she said between coughs, “first shot went down the wrong pipe.”

I stayed where I was, my spent dick dangling before her face, and looked around her bedroom for some tissues.

But she didn’t need them. After she’d coughed it out and cleared whatever semen she’d aspirated, she bent to her cupped palm and tipped her head back, letting my cumload slide into her mouth like she was eating an oyster, and swallowed it.

I can safely say that, over the years, I’ve had a satisfying variety of women eat a great quantity of my cum. Some have jacked me off into their open mouths, letting me see my jizz coat their tongues before gulping it down. Some have scooped it from their tits or bellies and fed it to themselves. One was particularly good at swallowing my entire cock at the critical moment and taking my cumshots straight down her throat. But no one has ever swallowed my load quite like that again.

I dropped to my knees and kissed her deeply, gratefully.

After that, I got Suzie to lie crosswise on her bed, and I knelt between her legs and ate her out, licking her and finger-fucking her like I did the night before. She seemed to be struggling a bit with her orgasm until I starting giving her some verbal encouragement. When I told her that if she didn’t come all over my mouth soon, I was going to have to shove my thick, hard cock into her horny little cunt and fuck it, she went off like a Roman candle.

We were both soaked, covered in sweat by this time. I imagined that her stuffy little bedroom must have smelled like cunt, but then my face was well bathed in her juices and that may have been what filled me senses. We lay next to each other, still crosswise on the bed, but not touching.

“Can I take a fast shower before I go?” I asked her.

She craned her neck and looked at the clock on her bedside table.

“If you take a shower, there won’t be enough time for us to fuck.”

I propped myself up on my elbows and looked down at her.

“You want to have… you want to fuck?”

“Don’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but… I don’t have any rubbers. I mean, I had one, but it was in my wallet for so long that I finally got rid of it. I was afraid it wasn’t going to be any good anymore.”

“You don’t need one. I’m on the pill.”

“Since when?”

“Wintertime. My doctor put me on it to regulate my periods.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why should I tell you?” she said. “So you could pressure me into having sex?”

“I wouldn’t have done that,” I said.

“Yeah, right.”

“Okay, well, it doesn’t matter now,” I said. “But why didn’t we just do it first, as soon as I got here?”

“I told you, I’ve been thinking all morning about eating your cum. Besides, I figured if I blew you first that you’d last longer. That you wouldn’t start shooting off as soon as you put it in me.”

“You’re such a romantic,” I said. She shrugged. “Well, after last night and this morning, I don’t think there’s much chance of that. ‘Shooting off’ as soon as I ‘put it in you,’ I mean. In fact, I’m just not sure I can get hard again right now.”

“Oh, you’ll get hard again,” she said sitting up, leaning over my dick, and taking it in her mouth.

I reached the timeclock in the A&P breakroom at 9:59, still panting from my bolt across the parking lot. Sally Speaker, my co-worker, another non-union shit-work grocery bagger like me, was just punching her card.

“Oh, good, you made it,” she said. “I was debating on whether I should punch your card or not when it hit 10. I didn’t want you to get docked, but I wasn’t sure you were coming. No one said anything about you calling off.”

“Thanks,” I said. “But you shouldn’t do that, even if you know I’m going to be here. They’ll fire you in a minute. I’ll just get docked.”

She shrugged. “I don’t give a shit. It’s not like I can’t get another minimum wage job.”

Sally was cool. I dug her. She was my age, a petite brunette, and thinner than mountain air, couldn’t have weighed a hundred pounds. In summer, she always wore a tube top underneath her A&P jacket—we had to wear these stupid, oversized red-and-white striped jackets, like some bad barbershop quartet costume—and unbelievably tight jeans. And I mean tight, as in pronounced camel-toe tight. Her breasts were only just large enough to disqualify her as flat-chested.

And I thought she was sexy, in a mildly loose, slutty kind of way. She was the only girl in our teenaged bagging crew, and she liked me the best, mostly because all the other guys were always hitting on her or just out-and-out propositioning her. I never did because, well, I really wasn’t much good at hitting on girls. I found it kind of embarrassing. And, as I think I came to learn in the situation there with Sally, it didn’t really work. I was the only one she was friendly with, and it wasn’t because I was better looking than everyone else. I just didn’t act like a dick.

I also thought that, if I’d asked, she’d have gone out with me. But I didn’t. Mostly because I wasn’t sure how to pull it off. For one thing, she lived up north of Warren: not an especially convenient location for someone who didn’t have his own car. Also, between my other jobs and my “girlfriend,” it might have been difficult to arrange a date.

Also, I was a little intimidated by her. We were the same age, but to me she seemed older than her years, more mature. She had a savviness about her, and a clear, no-bullshit kind of certainty. I felt like, if we would ever actually go on a date, I’d be a bundle of nerves, tripping over myself and my words, while she would just fix me with her gimlet eye and ask herself what in the hell was she doing with this young boy.

Sometimes, if we were working the closing shift together, we’d sneak a cigarette in the large trash room at the very rear of the store, during our clean-up chores. No one ever went back there except us grunts who were responsible for dealing with store garbage; we called it The Shithole. Don’t think I never fantasized coming up behind her on those brief rendezvous and wrapping my arms around her waist, running my hands up under her jacket, and pressing my hardon against her tightly clad denim ass, because I did, a lot. But I never did it. We just talked instead. Most of the time she talked about her various disappointing situations with men. She seemed to go out with a lot of different guys, many of them much older. Sometimes she asked questions about me and The Imbecile but I didn’t like to talk much about that.

Sally was rolling up the too-long sleeves of her jacket as I leaned across her to punch my card.

“What, do I smell bad?” I said. “I got kind of sweaty running from the parking lot.”

“No,” she smiled. “You’re good.”

We went out to the floor, and the cool of the store, and I realized that I may have been redolent with something more like eau du vagin.

Instead of getting that quick shower I’d hoped for an hour earlier, I’d gotten fucked. After Suzie Bowen had sucked my cock back to hardness, her full breasts swaying and brushing my thigh as she bobbed up and down while I lay fully naked and supine on her narrow bed, she straddled my hips and guided the bulging head of my dick between the slick lips of her cunt.

I was half-hoping for a slight pause, a moment of recognition about the threshold we were both about to cross. But she was focused on the actual sight of this penetration. That was okay. I realized, in hindsight, that this was a purely carnal moment for her. It didn’t take anything away from how incredibly hot the episode appeared to me: her head bowed and her hair hanging down, curtaining either side of her face; her hand wrapped around the base of my shaft; on her knees with her legs spread and her thighs trembling slightly from the effort to go slow, or anticipation, or both; that light, brown puff of hair slowly eclipsing my ruddy cockhead. I reached up and took her soft dangling tits in my palms. Everything was on display and tracing an erotic visual trajectory. This virginity-losing snapshot was better than most get.

I imagined the narration going on in her head at that moment, reciting a description from one of the stroke stories she’d read that morning before I arrived: Slowly, I brought myself down over the thick, bulging head, until the entire throbbing length of his engorged, meaty cock was buried to the hilt in my tight, needy little cunt.

“God, that feels good,” I said.

“Yeah?” she grunted. She had my entire cock inside her.

“Yeah. Are you going to fuck it?”

“Gimme a second.” She was shifting her hips slightly from side to side. “Okay,” she said finally, put her hands on my chest, and began to slide up and down on my cock.

She fucked me, bouncing up and down on my hardon, riding it with increasing intensity until she was literally slamming herself down on me, our hip bones banging. I tried to give her the words that I thought she needed, or enjoyed.

“Take it,” I repeated. “That that cock. Fuck it. Fuck it with that hot pussy.”

“My cunt,” she panted.

“Fuck it with that hot little cunt,” I said.

“Ahhh… fuck!” she barked. “Fuck my cunt. Fuck. My. Cunt. Don’t stop… don’t stop… keep fucking it…”

But I really wasn’t doing anything. She was the one pounding the shit out of me.

“Oh fuck!” she slammed down especially hard and stayed down. Her fingers gripped my chest. Her eyes were closed and her entire body shook with an orgasm.

After about half a minute she opened her eyes and, I swear, looked at me like she was surprised to find me there. She sat up and raked her hair back.

“Did you come?” she said.

“Not yet,” I said.

“Okay,” she exhaled heavily, still panting from her efforts. She dismounted me, turned around, straddled my stomach facing the other direction, and knee-walked back until her pussy was above my mouth.

“Just lick it a little bit,” she said. “But not too hard. I’m a little sore. Don’t worry about making me come again, I don’t think I can right now. I just want to feel your tongue.”

Her pussy was soaked. There was a white froth around her cunt lips and clinging to her bush. I smeared it around a bit with my fingers, then lightly brought my tongue tip in contact with her hole. She had a mildly astringent and faintly metallic taste.

She immediately went to work on my cock, using her technique of sucking lips and twisting hand—that finishing move she’d read about. My mouth and chin were soon slick with her cum, juices, and sweat.

She took her mouth from me but kept stroking my spit-soaked dick.

“When you’re ready to come,” she said, “tell me to take it. Like you did before. Tell me to take your load.”

“I’m really close,” I said.

She took me back in her mouth, sucking and stroking.

“I’m gonna come,” I said. “Oh fuck, take it. Take my load. Take my hot load!”

“Mmm-hmm, mmm-hmm,” she repeated as my hips heaved upward and I spurted another load of jizz into her mouth. She kept sucking, stroking, and swallowing through the entire cumshot, and a little beyond, until my body was jerking involuntarily from her lips on my over-sensitive cockhead, and I begged her to stop. She sat up and climbed off me, turned around and knelt on the bed, back on her heels.

“Not so much this time,” she drew the back of her hand across her mouth.

I lay there panting. After months of necking, tame petting, and a couple reluctant handjobs, we’d combined for eight orgasms within a little more than twelve hours. She’d come on my face, my fingers, and my cock. She’d swallowed three loads of my cum and jerked out two.

“I’m surprised there was any at all,” I said between deep breaths.

Weekday mornings at the A&P were often slow. Only two registers were open, and Sally moved back and forth between them filling paper sacks while I did some of the other heavy work in advance of the typically busier afternoons. The grocery bags came in 60 pound wrapped bundles, and I had to drag them all the way out from the back on a hand truck, unwrap them and restock the registers. I’d finished that, and just come back in from the sweltering parking lot after rustling a long train of shopping carts. When Sally finally caught my eye, she motioned me over with a wag of her head.

“The Hillbilly wants us to take our breaks,” she said. “You should go first.”

The Hillbilly was her name for our store manager, Mr. Byrd. A&P had just transferred him up from a West Virginia store a few weeks before. He was a tall, lanky guy who really didn’t smile or talk, just gave orders and hid up in the cage most of the day chain-smoking.

“You sure?” I said. “You can go if you want, I’m okay.”

“No, go ahead, it’s cool. You need a butt?” She took a Marlboro and book of matches from the pocket of her jacket and slipped it into the pocket of mine.

I took a piss and splashed cold water on my face and neck, then went out the back to the receiving dock. Out in the back lot beyond the bay there were several “boulders” scattered. All the cardboard the A&P discarded—there were mountains of it—were tossed into this great, infernal device in the rear of the store that compressed it into bales bound with thick steel straps. The bales were enormous, probably seven foot square and weighed a ton. They were solid, immobile, so we called them “boulders.” If you crashed your car into one, well, then you had a fucked-up car: the boulder wouldn’t budge. I knew they ran them out of the store and dropped them back there using a fork lift, but I never got to see whatever monstrous behemoth came and gobbled them up, took them away.

I’d smoked about half the cigarette when Sally came out.

“Shoot, are my fifteen minutes up?” I said.

“No, you’re good,” she said. “You still have a few minutes. The Hillbilly just had me haul a bag of trash back to The Shithole.”

I handed her the cigarette and she took a drag.

“Late night, busy morning?” she said.

“Yeah, I guess. Kind of.”

“What’d’ya have for breakfast?”

“Huh? Um, nothing really. Juice.”

“You should eat more.” She handed me the Marlboro. “I’m going back. You have five more minutes.”

“Okay,” I said, and thought, What did I have for breakfast?

That night, Suzie Bowen sucked me off in the dark on her front porch swing while her mother was inside watching television.

Like when she jerked me off the night before at the drive-in, I had my pants open and I pulled the waistband of my underwear down while she jerked and sucked my dick. My balls were wet from her spit running down my shaft. I’d pulled up the back of her sundress and was running my finger up and down her wet slit from behind. I could hear Charlie’s Angels theme music coming from the living room as I pumped my load in her mouth. She stayed in that position, my softening cock still between her lips, as I continued to finger her from behind, not sure if I was hitting the right spots for her until she grunted and started to shake. The porch swing chains twanged from the vibrations.

After a little recovery time just swinging and saying nothing, she went to the screen door and told her mother we were taking a walk. Instead, she led me to a dark strip of lawn between her detached garage and the next-door neighbor’s house. I lay bare-assed in the dewy grass while she rode my cock like she had that morning. She came again, then lay flat atop me, trying to catch her breath. She asked me if I’d come and I told her I hadn’t. I was still hard inside her.

“You need to come in my cunt,” she whispered. “I need to feel what it’s like when you come inside me.” She sat back up and started riding me again, this time intent on making me finish inside her, which I did, in short order, for the very first time.

Over the next five days, I pumped so many loads into Suzie Bowen that I can’t reliably remember every instance. We kept a standing morning date at her house, after her mother went to work. If I had my ten o’clock morning shift to go to, we usually had enough time for both of us come twice, sometimes three times for her.

Sometimes we read one of the Penthouse letters and followed the pattern of the encounter described. I read the description of the fucking aloud if the narrator was a man, or she would read it if the narrator was a woman. I didn’t need to tell her anymore when I was about to come, but I usually did because she liked to hear the words, and I really liked to hear them too. Sometimes we’d say the actual dialogue from the story if it was something we agreed was hot, dirty, and turned us on. She’d say, “Take me from behind and pound my horny pussy.” She’d say, “That’s it, fuck it, fuck that teenage cunt.” She’d say, “Pump all your hot, thick cream in my mouth, give me a big load.”

She got on the bed on all fours and let me fuck her from behind. She lay on her back and had me bend her legs back toward her head while I pile-drove her missionary style. She stuck out her tongue and jacked my cock off over it, so I could see the spurts of my cum shooting into her mouth, because that’s how one of the woman in one of the stories finished her partner. She asked me to pull out and shoot my load on her chest, and then massaged the semen over her breasts until they were all slippery and shiny.

She liked to say “cunt,” and liked to hear me say it when she was close to coming. We discovered that she liked me eating her out while she straddled my face, grinding her pussy against my mouth. She came hard that way. We further discovered that she really liked it after I’d filled her pussy with cum. Prior to this whole turn of events, if someone had asked me if I would lick out a girl’s pussy after I’d come in it, I expect I would have said “no.” But in the raw, carnal context of what we were doing, I didn’t hesitate. It wasn’t like I was swallowing my own cum, though I was to a certain extent. But it wasn’t “straight”; I had Suzie Bowen’s juices as a mixture, and while I could taste my semen on her, mostly I tasted her.

And it was hot, an extremely hot moment, because of how much it turned her on and how hard it made her come, bracing herself against the bedroom wall above her headboard, raking her pussy back and forth over my tongue and mouth, and repeating “eat my cunt, eat my cum-filled cunt.” She was lost in it, in the act, the stimulation, and ultimately the climax. Afterwards, next to me on her narrow bed, she’d just lay there panting, eyes closed, her naked body gleaming with sweat and radiating so much heat that I had to roll off the bed and lay on the floor.

Of course, the printed porn also had things going on that were new to both of us. There were threesome stories. She found the male-male-female ones most exciting, but she said she couldn’t imagine ever doing such a thing and not feeling like a whore afterwards. She didn’t find the girl-on-girl stories interesting at all. And stories with anal sex, well… she skipped over those completely, and that was fine with me. At that point in my still very new array of sexual experiences, I had no interest in sticking my cock in her ass or anyone else’s. To be honest about it, until I read one of those stories, I had no idea that men and women even did that.

We got lucky on Saturday night. My parents attended a wedding of the daughter of one of their friends, so I brought Suzie Bowen to my house and we spent four hours fucking in my upstairs bedroom. It was hotter than hell, temperature-wise, so I had to keep the windows open. Plus, I wanted to be able to hear my parents’ car in case they came home early for some reason. Not that I would have been able to get Suzie Bowen out of there in case they did, but we might at least have enough time to get our clothes on and get downstairs. Though I can’t imagine how we’d avoid looking the worse for wear. We were both sweating our asses off the entire time. I could have brought up a box fan that we used downstairs, but thing was as loud as a turbine engine and I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to hear a car pulling into the drive.

Because of the open windows, had to keep our filthy exchanges to a soft volume. While she rode my face, grinding her recently fucked cunt against my mouth, I used a free hand to stroke my cock back to hardness. When she realized what I was doing, she spun around and took it in her mouth. Sixty-nineing like that, we both came at the same time.

Sunday was my only day off from all my jobs and from The Imbecile. She had some family picnic to attend, and that was fine with me. I wasn’t pining for her or anything. I wasn’t even horny until that evening after I went to bed, and lay there thinking about all the stuff we’d done. And then thinking about doing that same stuff to Eleanor Kaminski.

And then, sort of unexpectedly, I found myself thinking of little Sally Speaker: her fine straight hair and bud breasts and sharp hipbones. I imagined her tiny, skinny body atop mine, barely any weight at all, squeezing what was probably a very tight pussy down over my erect dick. Leaning down and kissing me while we fucked. The potency of that spontaneous fantasy surprised me—my cock was harder than a lamppost—but there was also something sweet about it, as well.

But I kept my hands off myself. I couldn’t remember the last time I went an entire day without getting myself off or, now, having The Imbecile get me off. I flipped my pillow to the dry, cool side, and went to sleep.

I suppose it seems unkind that I still referred to Suzie Bowen as The Imbecile, but the truth was, she hadn’t gotten any smarter. Wanting to have sex with each other was the only thing we had in common. In between those activities, things were essentially the same. I remember thinking it was too bad that eating cum didn’t improve a person’s intelligence, because I would have had Suzie Bowen on track for a Mensa membership.

The next morning, after our day of rest, we didn’t even make it into her bedroom for the first fuck of the day. She yanked open the front door before I could ring the bell. She stood there, her shorty robe unbelted, and gave me a few seconds to take in the sight before pushing open the screen: her bare chest and the inner curve of her breasts, her nipples dark and plainly visible beneath the pale peach satin, her belly and soft bush. After she slammed, bolted, and chained the door behind us, she pulled me into the living room. She knelt, undid my jeans, and pulled them down. She lay back on the living room carpet and held out her hand to me, beckoning me down. I pulled off my t-shirt and knelt between her legs.

“Fuck the shit out of me,” she said.

I moved the head of my cock up and down her slit to get it wet, and notched it in place. Then I took both of her wrists in my hands, pinned them to the floor on either side of her head, and thrust myself into her as hard as I could.

“Fuck!” she shouted.

I held myself all the way inside her for a second or two, then began to pump. I fucked her as hard as I could. I wasn’t concerned about whether she would come or not this time.

“Take. That. Cock,” I said, each word timed with an in-thrust. “Take. That. Hard. Fucking. Cock.”

She was flexing her hips up to meet mine. She raised her head to look down and see the action of us violently connecting, my angry dick pounding into her slick, hot hole.

“You like the way that looks?” I said. “You like to see that cock pumping in and out of your little cunt?”

But she didn’t answer, just continued grunting at my thrusts.

I wasn’t going to last very long, and I didn’t try to.

“This first load’s going to be a big one,” I said. “I hope you can handle it.”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” she panted.

I felt that pressure, that urge, from behind my balls rising rapidly.

“I need to come,” I said. I stopped fucking her.

“No, keep going, come!” she said.

Instead of continuing and finishing inside her pussy, I let go of her wrists, moved from between her legs and knelt by her head, my red, bulging, shiny cock in my hand.

When she realized what I was doing, she said “Oh, yeah,” in such a dirty, hungry way that she etched the moment on my brain forever.

She turned toward me, lifted her head off the carpet slightly, closed her eyes, and showed me her tongue. I was squeezing my cock tightly, just below the head, and when I released the pressure, a thick, forceful, and abundant stream of cum jetted into her mouth. It was a strong first shot, and it choked her, as had happened that other time. She barked out a spluttering cough, spraying my cock with some of the cum, the rest of it spilling out over her lips, down her cheek, and onto the floor. I was still coming, the shots of jizz coating her lips and chin. As my spurts subsided, she began rubbing the cum around her mouth and pushing some of it between her lips.

“Eat all that cum,” I said. Then, after only the briefest hesitation, I leaned over and kissed her sticky mouth.

That morning, she was as turned on as anyone I’d ever known: probably more horny than usual because of our Sunday hiatus, but after I kissed her mouth when it was still thickly coated with my spunk, she went off like a cherry bomb as soon as I went down between her legs to lick her pussy. I kept eating her out—this was becoming my standard recovery-time activity—and with a persistent combination of tongue, fingers, and foul language, coaxed another orgasm from her. We finally relocated to her tiny bedroom where I fucked her from behind, a somewhat lengthier session where the sweat was pouring from me, raining hot on her propped-up ass, and she reached between her own legs and rubbed her clit—again, something she’d learned about through her reading—while I continued pounding her. When I told her I was going to coat the inside of her cunt with a big load of cum the way I’d coated her mouth, she started slamming her ass back against me erratically, bucking and coming. I had to wait for her to finish before I could resume the steadier, vigorous thrusting I needed to drain my balls for the second time that morning.

Despite this unexpected turn of sexual events with Suzie Bowen, as I’d mentioned when describing my previous night’s musing, I hadn’t lost my unrequited lust for Eleanor Kaminski. But my thoughts about her had taken a definite turn. Having very little first-hand sexual experience until recently, I typically fantasized sucking her big tits while she jerked my cock. But I’d just spent such an enlightening, sweaty number of hours with Suzie Bowen’s naked body—fucking it, eating it, filling it and covering it with my semen—that I wanted to fuck Eleanor Kaminski, because now I could envision it: her broad ass jiggling like a Jell-o dessert while I fucked her from behind; her huge soft tits flopping back and forth while I pounded away on top of her; her doing that flirty little thing, biting her lower lip, after she swallowed down a big load of cum I’d just pumped into her mouth.

Yeah, maybe I was still just imagining it, imagining that she was seducing rather than merely flirting. But the dynamic had changed for both of us now. For one thing, I wasn’t a frustrated virgin anymore. She didn’t know that, of course. But that new condition gave me a certain confidence that I didn’t have before. I didn’t expect I would be so completely passive in the face of her flirtations, especially if they continued to grow more overt.

And how had the dynamic changed for her? Well, I was pretty sure that Eleanor Kaminski was looking for something very specific when she went into her garden shed after she’d thought I was gone the previous week, and had probably found it: a generous load of my cum dripping down the rusty shed wall. Which meant she also, whether she wanted to or not, had thought about me in there, stroking my hard teenage cock while thinking about her. It was an emblem of male potency and sexuality, and her effect on it, that, once seen, couldn’t be unseen. I’d sexualized myself in her imagination.

Like Suzie Bowen with the Sex Box, Eleanor Kaminski, by going into that shed, and looking for and finding my cum, had stepped up to the edge of the rabbit hole. In her case, though, I might help her along with a little push.