Her breasts I imagine are better than any on the page. I had now watched them closely under her clothing and knew they were about the size of small oranges with a nice rounded underside. The tips were very pointed and came straight forward pushing up little tents against her blouse.
We do a lot of talking about penises. I told her that mine was pretty big. “How big,” she wanted to know. “Um... well, larger than any of my friends.” “When do I get to see it,” she said. Now that really took me by surprise.
I thought about it for a while, stalling so I wouldn’t have to answer. Then I had an idea. I told her she had to show me something first.
She giggled. “What do you want to see?” This was getting better than I imagined in my wildest dreams.
“How about your breasts,” I say, and lo and behold she turns to me and without pausing she unbuttons her blouse. Now I am slammed with the sudden, panic-stricken thought that knowing my luck, this would be the exact moment my father would come home early and catch us. All would be over. I look out to the driveway and see it is empty then I look back just in time to see her reach the bottom button. She opens her blouse wide open.
Now there is a light cotton bra with a catch in the center. She is bulging a little around it, out the sides and over the top. She grasps the clasp and clicks it open but holds it there looking up at me. I can hardly stand this. I am absolutely sure that my father is about to burst in the door and spoil everything but he doesn’t. Then pausing a moment, she spread her wings all the way out to the side.
They are the most gorgeous things I had ever seen. Not at all like the ones in my books, they are alive and they move with her breathing, and when she laughs they jiggle like they were laughing too. I ask her to turn to the side so I can see her profile and they stick out like bumpers on a ‘57 Cadillac. The skin appears tight on the surface as if the mound underneath were pushing up with constant force. The tip is a very light rose color, more pastel than I expected and it smoothes into a sweeping curve reaching to the apex. As she twists her torso side to side they elongate in the diagonal, assuming their shape once again as she straightens up.
Suddenly she snaps her blouse closed holding it there tightly in her fists. “Okay,” she says. “Your turn.”
What the hell, I think. If I could see her breasts everyday I’d run down the street buck naked.
I unbutton the top two buttons on my jeans and slide pants and briefs all in one motion half way down my thighs. My dick is hard and stands straight out, bobbing from the thwang of release. If she’s ever going to freak out she’s going to right now.
She shrieked. I thought for a moment I’d scared her shitless. But no. “Fan-tas-tic,” she says and starts peering at it from all angles. My skin feels hot from her hard looking and I am bobbing a little out of pure excitement.
“Turn to the side,” she says.
I do. I even lean back to let her get the full effect of my 6 and one-quarter inches.
“God,” she says. “How is it possible for any woman to hold all that inside?”
I had no idea how big females were, or how deep they went. Or what happened when push comes to shove.
“Let me look up at it,” she says. I spread my legs a little and she sits with her back to me and leans head back right underneath it, her hair brushing my thigh. I can see my penis straight out over her face, between her eyes, along the ridge of her nose, her mouth...
“That’s enough,” I say, and I pull up my jeans. Time to go. Mother would be home in ten minutes.
She looked sad as she snapped her bra and buttoned herself up all the way. She turned back and kissed me on the cheek, her tight breasts brushing against my sleeve. I watched her leave then whipped it out and jerked off. I was so excited it took15 seconds.
We’ve gotten to know each other pretty well by now. I have decided that I am definitely in love with her breasts. When she arches her back and lifts her arms over her head and the nipples rise and point upward I know why there is a reason for springtime.
“I didn’t know they did that,” I say.
“They do lots of things,” she says and pushes them up with both hands, then down, then out to the side. “Watch this,” she says and she rotates side to side, the tips rising at the turn-back point, then falling through the turn until the next turn-back point in which they rise again. Figure 8’s side by side.
The best part is the stuff they do when she’s not paying attention. Just the little sway when she moves her head. The elongation when she bends over slightly to turn a page. I can feel their presence without looking directly at them, know where they are instinctively. Two swans shepherded by the motions of her body.
And I see her heart beat pumping through the tight casing of the left one, the nipple dancing slightly with every beat. I am fascinated by the way they curve into their attachment at the side under the arm. This too, is nothing like the pictures in the book.
So we have gone along happily this way for a couple of weeks, looking from different positions at breasts and penis. I make her bend over and watch them sway. I make her lie down and observe them flatten against her chest, lower ribs pushed forward and upward to give a new prominence on the horizon.
One day she says she wants to see me in stages.
“What do you mean?” I say.
She remains silent a moment. Looks embarrassed. “You know. Soft. Medium. Hard.”
The instant she says it I get this tugging feeling that made me exhale all my wind, that kind of feeling I sometimes get when I’m trying to ask a pretty girl if I could sit by her, a pretty girl I probably would have no chance in hell with.
“We’ll have to... change things... around, I say.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll have to go first.”
So instead of looking at magazines, then looking at her we start with me. I take my pants down and let it dangle out in the air a while, swaying occasionally so she could see it swing and flop. She looks like she is witnessing the resurrection.
I was already a little tumid just talking. And being watched and feeling the tweek of movement out in the air I can tell it is getting harder.
“Are you ready?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“Well, take off your top.” And she does. Then I make her do a little dance for me. Watching the movement of her breasts makes me rise quickly to firmness. I can tell it excites her to see me through all the stages because as it was growing and beginning to stand out she oohed and ahhed and bent around to watch from all sides.
She talks about how as it rises the foreskin draws back from its resting place behind the tip to the little groove between the bulb and shaft. And that the tip turns purple. Or was it magenta? “What a wonderful organ the penis is,” she says. “Don’t you just love it?”
“Now I’ve got something I want to ask you, she says. “So what do you do with these magazines?”
“I look at them like we’ve been doing.”
“Isn’t there more than that?”
Well, we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well by now and I figure I have no reason to hide anything. She’s certainly played along without withholding anything. So I look at her to see if there’s any mockery in her face. It seems earnest to me.
“I jack-off.” I said.
OOOOOhh, she said.
And I thought for a moment I was feeling the same thrill she was feeling.
“What’s that like?”
“Great!” I say.
“Oh, come on. You can do better than that. I mean, what does it feel like?”
I hadn’t thought about putting it into words. Tingly, was the best I could come up with.
“Where tingly.”
“Well, on the tip and - I don’t know - down deep inside somewhere.”
“What do you think about while you are doing it.”
“Girls mostly.”
“What about girls.”
“Pussies and asses, I don’t know. How the girls lie down and let me lie on top of them, I guess. How they touch me and press my hard-on against their breasts, maybe.”
That was more than I’d planned on saying. But she kept pushing. She’d just have to put up with the answer.
“I want to know what it’s like just as you are coming.”
I thought for a moment. “I lose control. I try to rise up to that high place as slowly as I can because it makes it... well, feel better longer. It makes the pleasure greater to have it slowed down like that so I try to draw it out. But then it feels too good and... I just lose control.
“What’s the feeling in the penis at that time?”
I thought for a minute, unable to find what it was. “I guess it’s like shooting out stars,” I say.
She just nods her head in a slow rhythmical fashion. And takes a deep breath. I don’t know what’s coming next. And she sure surprises me. “I want to see you do that sometime,” she says.
One day she arrives excited and nervous.
“What’s up,” I ask.
“I want something,” she says.
“What?”
“I’m not sure I can ask.”
“No harm asking,” I say.
“I want to watch you do it.”
“Do what?”
“You know. Do it.”
“Oh,” I say like I didn’t know already. Then after a while I say, “I don’t know. I’d be real embarrassed.”
“I’ve got a deal for you.”
“What?” I say.
“I’ll show you my bottom if I can watch.”
If she could have seen my thoughts she’d already know that I’d been fantasizing about doing it for her that way anyway. If she got a thrill watching me pound my meat, why not. Truth is, just the thought of her watching turned me on a lot. I wasn’t going to bring it up because I didn’t want her to think I was weird. But now she’d broken the spell.
And on top of that she was tossing in a rich peek at her privates. What a deal!
I play it a little tough and pushed for more. “On one condition, I say.”
“What’s that?”
“That you leave yourself naked so I can watch you while I do it.”
“No problem,” she said. “Are we on?”
She’s wearing short shorts, the kind that hug the folds of her underside like an extra layer of skin. I can see her pussy folds and everything. Her bottom is small and round, appears real muscular from outside her shorts. I can hardly wait to see what’s underneath.
She reaches down and unbuttons three buttons and stops there long enough to look at me, then slides the shorts down in a side-to-side, rocking motion - first one flank, then the other, one thigh... one knee - until she kicks them off with her feet. She’s wearing shiny pink panties. She watches me watching her a few seconds then rubs herself before sliding them all the way off in one graceful motion. Now she stands with her legs slightly apart, hands on her hips.
Her pussy hair is light blond, just like the hair on her head, rising like smoke over her wedge. And sparse, giving a clear view of the lacy slit carved into her underside. The silky fissure is bordered on each side by a soft ridge which rises from the milky skin just inside where the thigh joins the body, a little mountain range that followed the valley downward between her legs.
“Can you see?” she asks.
I lied. “Sort of,” I say.
She hops up on the feed barrel and spreads her legs, peering over herself to inspect the prize. “Let me help,” she says, reaching down with her fingertips to pull back the skin on either side of the widening furrow. Pink shows through. Moist pink, with a little white mucous glistening in the crevasses.
“This is my pee-hole” she says pointing to a dot near the top of the space shaped like the wedge curtains make when drawn to one side. “And this... this, is the best part,” she says, moving her finger to her hole. “This is my vagina.” And she giggles. She actually giggles. “I think that’s what all the boys want,” she says.
I couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Seen enough,” she says.
I nod.
“Okay, your turn.”
My heart rips along at the speed of light, as much from fear, I think, as excitement. But a deal was a deal and all in all it felt good. I never could have done it without a trade off. In spite of anxieties under such pressure things might suddenly not work I was set to go through with it.
I pull my penis out of my fly, squeezing it and playing with it, rolling the skin in a circular motion around the shaft, then massaging it straight on with stiff fingers, pinching the bulb and rubbing the trough behind the soldier’s helmet.
“What does that do?” she asked.
“Makes it hard.”
It’s about three quarters hard and because it’s been kinked inside my pants trying to get out most of the swelling had found a place at the tip end giving it an hourglass shape, which, as it hardens, evens out.
“Wow! That thing’s a shape shifter.”
There’s a little clear fluid of excitement coming out its tip. I take this and rub it on the underside of the bulb, lifting the tip to show her the sensitive cleft under the head. Then first with the flats of my fingers I started sliding the skin up and down. My foreskin is short and slides out to cover the tip then back to disappear in the stretch of the recoil. It will give her a real good view.
I am so intent on pleasing her I have forgotten to look at her. She’s still sitting on the feed barrel mewling in almost whimpering tones, oohing and aahing. Her legs are parted and her sex is directly in view. I imagine I am inside her and the motions I am feeling are the tight clinch of her sex against mine.
“Show me your top too,” I command. And without speaking she opens her blouse and bra and lets her breasts swing, revealing a subtle rocking motion I now realize her whole body’s been doing all along.
I am pointing 45 degrees away from her. I turn to the side to show her the full length and she squeals softly. She gets down to look up close. I keep the pace feeling my gism well up against the root.
“I’m about to come,” I say. “Let me watch your bottom as I do.”
She hops back on the barrel, spreads her legs and with her fingers separates her lips.
I am in her now. Pumping her. I can see she feels it too even though we are not even touching. She seems to be pressing herself open more and more and I am starting to lurch and stiffen my face... and neck... and my spine curling over... and I just manage to say... “watch, watch,” ... just before it shot out three feet in front of me.
She cheered.
I let it pump a few times to finish. Then take the cream in my fingers and hold it up to her, rubbing my fingertips together. Her eyelids droop and her mouth opens slightly. I fix her eyes in mine and sling the gism into the haystack.
After we put ourselves together she comes up to me and kisses me full on the mouth, letting her frontal parts press against my side. I grab her butt and press her against me, and she lets me, feeling her sex against my thigh.
Then she turns and goes away.
She stays away a few days then comes in shuffling her feet and looking grumpy.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“Not sure I can tell you.”
“Why not?”
She pauses, thinks a while then says, “Guess I’ll have to one way or another.”
“So go ahead.”
But she looks like words are poison to her mouth. She looks down to the ground working her jaw back and forth. Finally she spits them. “My sister wants to come,” she says.
“I didn’t know you had a sister. And what do you mean she wants to come?”
“She’s my younger sister, 11 years old. She heard someone talking about hard-on at school and asked me what it was. I told her. Then she asked if I had ever seen one and... I said... well... ”
“I get it.”
“Yeah, and she said she’d tell on us if I didn’t let her come too. Knowing her, she’d do it.”
“What does she want?”
“She wants to see a hard-on.”
A thrill shoots through my loins right up to my breath and stops it short. It’s a mix of pride she wants to see me and excitement at having another girl around. I definitely like the idea but its her sister. I have to read Stacy on this.
Stacy’s pissed. “She’s always getting me in trouble she says. I guess she has to come but we should make her pay for it.”
“Yeah, make her pay.”
“Yeah,” she says getting a sudden scheming look in her eye and a change in the angle of her face, “but how?”
“Something really bad,” I say.
“Yeah, really bad.”
Stacy’s agreement on this thrilled me. It gave us the power to do stuff to her and her being willing and all. I thought for a minute. “Well, maybe we could have an initiation.”
“Yeah.” Stacy was brightening up. “Yeah, we could make her do stuff.”
“We could call ourselves a club and say she had to go through hazing to become a member.”
“Oh, this is good,” Stacy says. She was really getting jazzed now. “Okay. Let’s figure this out.”
We decide that first she had to memorize all our models. She has to know who has the big penises and what size holes the women have.
“But she has to show us something too, I said.”
“She’s going to have to show us something. That can be the next step. Breasts. That’ll be stage two. Her breasts.”
This was incredible. I couldn’t tell if I was pumped more by the power I suddenly had to make girls take off their clothes or by the idea that Stacy was actually going to deliver her sister to me.
Secret in the Open Page 10