Angie was lying on a down-filled bed, dreaming. Out of the darkness, a man's voice softly whispered in her ear. "I love you." A gentle breath in her ear sent thrills through her body. She turned toward him and held his arms out toward him. Eagerly, he came into her arms and twined his own about her. She delighted feeling his body against hers. His strong sinewy muscles were commanding and protective. They kissed and fires started burning within her. Their fingers began to explore each other. Her mind began to reel as passion consumed her.
Suddenly, an intense light came on, so bright that it dazzled her closed eyes. She opened them and looked. Her lover was her father! Before she had time to sort out that fact, she felt a cold presence and looked to see her mother approaching the bed. The horrible expression on her mother's face struck her dumb. She couldn't breath. Waves of fear immobilized her. Her mother's cold eyes bore relentlessly into hers. She began to choke, to fight for breath…
And then she woke up. Startled, she looked around the room to see if her mother was there. She was not. With a loud sigh, she lay back and tried to relax – to think.
Why did she have such an awful dream? Her own father? She loved him but she hadn't really thought about doing it with him before. And her mother. That set expression. How cruel, unforgiving. What if she did find out? About her and Doug? Her mother would never forgive her. Never.
She shouldn't do it again. It was too risky. When Doug came on Friday, she'd tell him. No more. Enough. He has plenty to tell Brad now. More than enough. He'll be satisfied.
The argument sounded so reasonable in her mind. Surely Doug would go along with it. Peace flooded her mind for a time.
She began thinking about Doug. What a funny boy. Nice, really. Considerate. But he had his funny little ways. The way he sat his glasses so precisely on the nightstand. Always trying to explain everything. Think things through.
Oh, yes. Think things through. The words struck an alarm. His insistence on completing a project. He wouldn't want to stop until he felt he had found out all he could find out. How could she overcome that? Persuade him to stop?
She concentrated very hard, but no ready answer came to mind. It was hopeless to tell him she knew all she wanted to know. But… if she could tell him she knew all she wanted to know. Yes. If she could say she'd talked it over with her mother… She didn't need to know any more, thank you very much. We can still be friends. Maybe it would work.
The more she thought about it, the better the plan seemed to her. Cheered, she decided to ask her mother about sex at the first opportunity. Then she could go back to her old life. Not very exciting. Not exciting at all. But secure.
The alarm on the clock-radio rang. Angie reached over and turned it off. She decided to dress quickly so she could get to breakfast early. Maybe she'd have a chance to ask her mother then.
Angie watched her mother furtively, trying to discern her mood.
Mrs. Marlowe bustled between the kitchen and the breakfast nook. Anxious lines creased her forehead; her mouth drew stern lines around her set jaw. No sooner had she sat down at the table and spread her napkin in her lap the toast popped up and she noticed the jam spoon wasn't on the table so she got up and bustled off to the kitchen to get it.
When she returned to the table she meticulously set about buttering her toast. Her face was seriously intent, as if she were writhing the Declaration of Independence.
Angie decided that her mother was behaving normally so she might as well ask her now.
"Mom," she asked hesitantly, "why couldn't I go to the sex education classes this year."
Mrs. Marlowe looked at her sharply. "Why should you go this year? What makes it any different than any other year?"
"Our biology teacher says everybody should know about sex by the time they're fourteen. And I'm fourteen now."
"You're still a child."
"No, I'm not. I've been menstruating for two years."
"That doesn't matter. You're not old enough to marry. You don't need to know until then."
"Does one have to be married to be able to understand sex? How come Maggie could get pregnant without being married?"
Mrs. Marlowe screeched angrily. "Put that out of your mind. Maggie was just a maid – she was no lady."
"How come other parents let their children learn about sex?"
Mrs. Marlowe choked drinking her coffee. She banged her cup down on it's saucer. "Other people have no morals, no standards. I'm not responsible for what they do. They should know better, but unfortunately they don't. They should be made to act decently."
Angie's heart felt cold as she listened to her mother's venomous voice. She felt a lecture coming on.
Mrs. Marlowe warmed to the topic. "I'm not responsible for all the filth in the world. It's the other people. Flocking to see dirty movies and plays, buying dirty books and magazines. Corrupting their children and trying to corrupt decent people's children. Everywhere you turn, you can't escape from filth. Now they're trying to drag it into the schools. Filling innocent children's minds with dirty thought…"
Angie's mind got confused listening to her mother's tirade. The sex her mother ranted against couldn't be the same kind she and Doug experienced. Anger stirred within her. "Is sex so bad, Mother? Is it? I thought it was a way to love another person?"
"That's not love," her mother said scornfully. "Love is pure. You love someone in your mind, not with your body. Love is not physical and – and – dirty!" She shook with revulsive excitement.
"How can it only be in the mind," Angie objected. "Why is it, when I feel love for Salome, I want to touch her. Hug her and kiss her?"
"Salome's just a cat," her mother said coldly.
"But can't you feel this way about people, too?" Angie insisted. "Once you get to know them, you want to touch them?"
Mrs. Marlowe leaned toward Angie, her eyes glaring. "Nasty!"
"What's nasty about it?" Angie challenged. "Shouldn't people love each other that way?"
Mrs. Marlowe pulled herself back and sat up straight. Her face showed anger, confusion and suspicion. "You're not doing anything dirty, are you?"
Angie thought of the sensual love she and Doug felt together. That wasn't dirty. That was exciting and good. It couldn't be dirty. Her eyes met and held her mother's eyes. "No, I'm not doing anything dirty. How can I? I don't know what it is."
"You'd better not," her mother snapped. "You'll answer to me if you do."
Abruptly, Angie said, "It's getting late. I've got to go to school."
All the way to school, Angie's mind was in a turmoil. She felt she should stop having sex with Doug. Somehow, it wasn't right; she didn't know why. If only her mother would help her, but she was hung up on the subject. If they could only sit down together and talk about sex openly and honestly. What was it all about. What it meant. How much sex could she take part in at her age. Then she should know what she should do. Instead, her mother got embarrassed and angry. Saying stupid things and then accusing her of doing something wrong. Angie sighed deeply.
What could she do? The dream scared her – it seemed so real. How she wished she could tell someone everything and they would comfort her and tell her what to do. If only she had a mother like that! Daddy was more like that. When he was home. Maybe he would help her. The thought gave her hope. She decided she'd definitely try to talk with him after dinner. Privately. She would feel better if she could get rid of this undercurrent of fear and guilt. Why should she feel guilty when she didn't feel it was wrong to do? Why did her mother keep insisting that sex was dirty and bad? Was something wrong with her mother? Or was something wrong with her, herself? Her troubled mind went over and over her problem, becoming more and more confused by it.
Doug finished eating his lunch and carefully put the waxed paper and the apple core back in the lunch bag; then he laid back on the grass and closed his eyes to nap in the sunshine.
"Hey, Fleming, I've come for sex instruction," an arrogant voice said.
Doug heard a body plop down on the grass beside him and opened his eyes to see Brad.
"What do you want to know?" Doug asked calmly.
"What do they do?"
"That question is so general it's hard to answer. What specifically do you want to know?"
"What does a male do to a female?"
"Basically, he puts his penis in her vagina."
"And?" Brad prompted him to continue.
"The woman lays on her back and the man lays on top of her on his stomach. The male pumps his sperm into the female."
"How?" Brad asked avidly.
"They get a rock-n-roll motion going. If everything's going right, they really get turned on," Doug added enthusiastically.
Doug's enthusiasm raised Brad's suspicions. "How do you know all this?" he asked.
"Oh, reading books – talking around," Doug said vaguely.
"Really?" Brad asked, unconvinced. "The sex education classes didn't have all that stuff in them."
"Take my word for it." Doug assured him.
"What kind of books were you reading?"
"Oh – medical books – marriage manuals."
"Where'd you get them?"
"The university library."
Brad studied his face closely. Yes, he could have got those kind of books at the university library. But why would he say, 'If everything's going right, they really get turned on?' Who's he been with lately, he asked himself. He searched his memory. Let's see. Hadn't he seen him with Angie Marlowe?
Doug stared back at Brad, smiling enigmatically.
"What have you been up to?" Brad said suspiciously.
"Me?" Doug veiled his eyes with an innocent look. "Nothing. Well, I must be off. I'm working on a new research project. It takes up a lot of my time."
Doug got up and started to walk away.
"Not so fast. Wait for me." Brad fell into step beside him. "Come on now. Quit holding out on me."
"Well, if you must know," Doug said with a patient sigh, "my dad told me."
"Your dad?" Brad howled. "Don't give me that shit."
"Well, don't believe me then," Doug said indifferently.
"I don't," Brad assured him. "Parents don't have the guts to tell their kids the truth about sex."
"Have it your way," Doug said mildly.
"But I'd still like to know what you've been doing."
Doug smiled easily. "A special research project."
"On what?"
"It's a secret."
"Tell me."
"Later," Doug promised, "after it's finished."
He'd told him enough. He didn't owe him any more. Now he had to get back to his studies. Persistent types were a bore.
Doug stopped walking and faced Brad. "I'm due at the language lab. See you around." He turned and walked away.
Brad jumped on him from behind. They rolled on the ground, wrestling. Brad was heavier and had the advantage. He soon got Doug pinned down and sat on his back and twisted one of his arms behind his back.
A crowd of students gathered around him. The boys, excited, shouted encouragement; the girls, attracted yet repulsed, called for Brad to stop.
Brad shifted his weight to add more pressure on Doug's arm. He panted, "Tell me."
Doug moved his body to adjust to the added pressure on his arm. When he spoke, his voice was weak. "None-of your business."
Brad added more pressure on Doug's arm. "I'll break your arm."
The pain was excruciating. Doug began panting. "Sadist," he managed to get out.
In the distance, Doug heard a girl's voice screaming insistently, "Let him go. Let him go!" Doug concentrated on not feeling the pain.
Angie had only been walking by and hadn't intended to stop. Mary Jane saw her and called, "Its Doug and Brad, Angie. They're fighting."
Doug? He was not a fighter. Angie pushed through the crowd to see. When she saw Doug's contorted face, she forgot herself. Brad can't hurt him. He can't. He can't. Frantically, she ran over to Brad and pummeled his back.
"Stop, stop!" she screamed.
Brad didn't seem to feel her blows or to hear her. She tugged at one of his arms ineffectually. It was hopeless. Doug would be hurt. She stood up and screamed, "Somebody help."
One of the boys shouted back at her, "Stay out of it. Girls can't fight!"
Angie stamped her foot. "He'll hurt him. Can't you see?" She began crying uncontrollably. She pummeled Brad's back again with her fists.
She screamed. "Let him go! Let him go!"
Brad ignored her.
She pounded on his head with her fists. Ugly old ears, she thought. They gave her an idea. She leaned over and bit one, as hard as she could.
Brad screamed and clapped a hand up to his ear. "Bitch!" he bellowed and began hitting her.
Doug scrambled to his feet and started punching Brad again. The students cheered him on. The two began wrestling again.
Finally, a teacher rushed over and separated them. "Come with me. Angie, too. To the principal's office." He shouted gruffly and led them away.
In the anteroom to the principal's office, Doug, Brad, and Angie avoided looking at each other. They straightened their clothes and smoothed their hair. Each stole glances at the door to the principal's office. They each dreaded the moment when the principal, Mr. Bailey, would step out.
Brad sat hunched over in his chair, drumming his feet on the floor. Doug sat straight up in his chair, his arms folded across his chest, staring across the room at nothing. Angie sat relaxed in her chair. She fussed endlessly in her purse.
Finally, Brad broke the silence. "What's with you two anyway?"
Angie glanced at him scornfully. "Nothing."
Doug sat unmoving and silent.
Brad looked at Doug, then back at Angie. "You're lying," he stated flatly.
"A lot you know," Angie said.
Doug gave her a warning glance to shut up but she ignored him.
"A girl doesn't try to save a boy in front of the whole school unless there's something between them," Brad stated confidently.
"It makes me furious when people are cruel to each other," Angie said haughtily. "Why were you two fighting anyway?"
Brad met her gaze. "Because I wanted to find out where he got all his information about sex."
Angie's insides recoiled in alarm. She blinked her eyes to hide her feelings. She looked at Doug. He didn't look at her. Suddenly, she knew why they had fought and she knew Doug hadn't talked. She felt warm to him and wanted to help him. "He told me his father told him about it."
Brad snorted disbelievingly. "That's what he told me, too."
"Don't you believe him?" Angie asked. "His father is a scientist. Scientists have different attitudes about things than other people."
"How stupid do you think I am?" Brad asked indignantly. "He's just a father like any other." He turned to Doug. "Don't worry, I'll get it out of you. Sooner or later."
Doug finally spoke. "We ought to be thinking up an excuse to tell Mr. Bailey so we don't have to stay after school."
"What'll you be late for?" Brad sneered.
Doug gave him a disgusted look.
The door to the principal's office opened and Mr. Bailey came out, blinking at them from behind his telescopic-lensed glasses. He rubbed his hands together in a repulsive ingratiating way and grinned at them maniacally.
"Well, now," he said jovially, "why were we kiddies creating a disturbance in the quadrangle?" He looked at each of them in turn.
Doug's face took on a patient expression, Angie looked wary and Brad put on an innocent injured look.
Right away Mr. Bailey could see that he wouldn't get any cooperation from the Fleming boy or the Marlowe girl. Thank God there were pliant people like the Harker lad. He beamed professionally in Brad's direction.
"What have we to say for ourselves, lad?"
Brad cleared his throat nervously. "Well, I was just standing there minding my own business…" he stopped to try to think up a believable lie.
Doug spoke up. "Somebody hit him accidentally and he thought I did it. That's all there was to it."
Mr. Bailey turned his attention from Doug to Brad. "What do you say, young man? Is that correct?" He hung on Brad's words.
Brad rapidly reviewed what he should do. Damn! He should have thought up a story to get Doug in trouble. Serve him right. But, with old Bailey breathing down his neck, he didn't have time to think up a good story.
"Yes, that's what happened," he said unconvincingly.
"You're sure now?" Mr. Bailey pressed.
Brad looked from Doug's expressionless face to Mr. Bailey's kindly countenance. He nodded. "Yes, I'm sure."
Mr. Bailey turned to Angie. "And how did you get mixed up in the fight, my dear?"
"It looked like Brad was going to break Doug's arm," Angie said indignantly.
"Oh?" Mr. Bailey's tone implied that he was offended to find trouble existing in the troublesome situation.
"No, I wasn't," Brad protested angrily.
"It looked like it to me," Angie insisted.
Mr. Bailey raised his hands to signify for them to stop talking. He looked like he was making a benediction. He smiled oilingly at Angie.
"Very commendable, I'm sure."
His glance veered playfully at the boys. "We know how easily young ladies get upset about fisticuffs. Things look ten times worse to them than they really are." His demeanor said, we men share and understand something women will never share or understand.
Angie read his meaning clearly. She snorted loudly in contempt.
Doug gave her a warning look to be quiet. Brad laughed, enjoying her discomfort.
Mr. Bailey rubbed his hands together playfully. "I'm glad there's no trouble after all."
Brad jumped to his feet. "Can we go now?"
"Yes," Mr. Bailey beamed. "Don't forget to report to the office after school."
"If there was no trouble," Doug objected, "why do we have to stay after school?"
"Misunderstanding or not," Mr. Bailey said sanctimoniously, "there was a Physical Disturbance and for that you have to stay after school."
Brad escaped out of the room first with a secret smile on his lips. Doug followed with a cross expression on his face.
"Any way you look at it," Angie said loudly on the way out, "it's a rotten deal." She gave him a sharp look as she closed the door behind her.
That evening, after dinner, Angie waited a discreet length of time before she followed her father into his den. He was sitting in his brown leather chair, puffing on his pipe and paging through a medical journal.
Angie stood hesitantly in the doorway. "Daddy, are you busy?"
He turned to peer at her, then took his pipe out of his mouth and held his arms out to her. "Not too busy for you, pumpkin."
Angie walked quickly over and curled up on his lap. She relaxed, enjoying the sensations she felt. Men had such strong, firm muscles. And they smelled different from women. She didn't know the words to describe the odors. She just knew she loved men – every part of them.
Her father set his pipe and magazine on an end table. He caressed her silky hair and delighted in the feel of her rounded body and soft muscles.
"Remember when you were little," her father said. "You used to come running into the room and jump up on my lap and I'd read you stories. Do you remember?"
Angie nodded. "I remember. You'd read and read and I'd fall asleep. Then mother would come to take me off to bed and I'd wake up and cry because I didn't want to go."
"Those were the good old days."
"I used to be so warm and comfortable on your lap." She circled her arms about his neck and pushed her head onto his shoulder to one side of his chin.
They sat still, enjoying each other's presence. Her father said, "Soon you'll be sitting on some young man's lap, just like this." His tone expressed both joy and sadness.
Angie was quick to make use of the opening. "I'm glad you noticed I'm growing up. When can I find out about sex? Everybody else at school gets to go to sex education classes and Mom won't let me go to them and she won't tell me about sex either." She ended with an abused tone.
Her father looked at her with mild amusement.
Angie defended herself. "I'm fourteen now. Old enough to know, don't you think?" She stared at him aggressively.
A gleam came into his eyes. He laughed. "Fourteen is quite old enough. What do you want to know?"
Angie sat up, excited. She waved her hands out wide. "Everything. How it's done. What it means…" She looked piercingly at her father. "Especially what it means. And anything else you think I should know." She looked at him, waiting expectantly.
He laughed at her enthusiasm and hugged her with one arm. "Well, let's see. Where to begin? Let's start with something easy. Like sex is the method of reproduction – to ensure the continuity of the race. But it's more than that. It's a physical need. A way that a man and a woman can express their feelings toward one another. Each one accepts the other and by so doing they reassure each other." He stopped and shook his head. "Am I making any sense to you?"
"Oh, yes, Daddy. You do!"
"You're sure now?"
"Yes, yes. Go on. Then sex is not bad?" Angie asked.
"What are you telling that child?" a harsh, furious voice interrupted. Her mother stood in the doorway with an angry face.
"She was asking me some questions about sex," her father said in a neutral tone.
Her mother raised her voice louder. "I told her I'd tell her at the proper time."
"Louise," her father objected. "She's old enough to know now. She should know. Times have changed since you were a girl."
"I didn't bring a daughter into the world to be a slut," Louise retorted angrily.
"Telling her won't make her a slut. It'll give her some knowledge so she can make good judgments about it."
Louise's face contorted in anguish. "Judgments like yours, Stuart?"
Stuart sat up straighter, trying to control his temper. "For God's sake, Louise. Leave our mess out of this!"
"How can I? When I have to live with it day by day?"
Stuart's voice became low and passionate. "Give me a divorce. More for your own sake than my own."
"Never," she shouted, "never! I won't be pushed aside, unwanted, unloved, and let you marry one of those hot-pants nurses of yours."
"Then live with me, as a wife."
"You keep your dirty hands off me," she screeched. "And Angie, too. Come here, Angie," she ordered. "Don't let him touch you."
Angie threw her arms around her father's neck. "No, no! I love Daddy."
Louise's tone took on a dangerous edge. "Stuart, send that child out of this room. If you don't, you'll be sorry. I'll make so much trouble for you, you'll never practice medicine again."
"Louise," Stuart protested. He saw by her face that it was useless to protest. He took Angie's hands from behind his neck and stood her on the floor. Kissing her lightly on the cheek, he told her, "Go to your room now, Angie, darling. We'll talk another time."
As Angie walked out of the room, her mother shouted. "Not another time! You won't talk together another time. If I catch you at it, you'll both be sorry!"
Her father raised his voice louder. "Louise. For God's sake, not in front of the child."
"That's what you always say," Louise ranted. "'Not in front of the child.' What do you care? What have you done to care for her? I had to carry her until she was born. I had to go through the pain and travail. I had to take care of her, day in and day out, all these years. While you've been chasing nurses…"
Angie ran down the hall to escape from the angry voices. Her fears didn't dispel until she was safely in her room with the door closed. Emotions were zigzagging through her body. Her mind reeled around and around. She wanted to scream, to howl, to die.
Her parents seemed so engrossed in their own problems that they didn't have time to be concerned with her. She felt lost, alone.
The she remembered Doug. He liked her, cared about her. Some, at least. He hadn't told Brad about them. He had endured all that pain for here longed to comfort him. On Friday, she would accept him with her naked body; she would reassure him, and she giggled at the thought of the word, with her little pussy, whether her mother liked it or not.
This time, as soon as Doug stepped into the hall, Angie threw her arms around him and kissed him. Doug was a little surprised, but the demonstration stirred the protective urge within him and he responded. They hung onto each other as they walked to her room. They both felt better when they stepped inside and closed the door.
Wordlessly, they drew together and kissed deeply, their tongues exploring each other's mouths. Doug's hands stole down inside her robe and a finger gently teased the tip of a nipple.
Desire emanated through her body at each stroke. She caught her breath and a deeper, warmer desire began to burn between her legs. She thought, here goes, Mom, too bad you've never taken this trip! She reached down and brazenly unzipped Doug's pants and felt around inside for his penis. Her fingers felt his wiry pubic hairs; they explored downward and touched soft and wrinkled skin. She grasped the round, snake-like shaft in her hand and gently slipped it through her fingers. She felt it grow hard in her hand. Her heart tripped a beat. Triumphantly, she massaged the shaft up and down faster and faster. She tickled the tip with butterfly touches.
Doug groaned. He pulled away from her mouth and tore open her robe and dropping his head, sucked noisily on her breast. He could feel the nipple erect in his mouth. His lips trailed down her soft pliant belly and into her soft curly nest of pubic hairs. He gently parted her cunt lips with his thumbs and lightly tongued the head of her clitoris. The tiny, fleshy tip swelled and hardened under his lewd but gentle touches.
Angie moved softly and swayed her body, tipping her vagina upward and flexing her buttocks. Her eyes were closed and she dug her nails in to his shoulders.
Blood racing, breathing rapidly, they tore their clothes off and Doug carried her over to the bed and threw himself on her. They teased each other with lips and fingers. They rocked their bodies together with mounting excitement. Their twined arms and legs held tighter and tighter.
Angie arched her body against Doug's body; she pressed her pubic mound against his penis in an undulation motion – slide up, push, slide up, push – trying to entice his penis to enter her vagina. His cock pushed more frantically against her and while Doug readjusted his body weight, Angie spread her legs further apart and pulled her legs back. She arched her whole pelvis area against him, flexing her buttocks to push strongly up against him. Doug raised his buttocks away from her body for a moment and grasped his erect penis. He groaned and pressed his hips forward and slowly, with the tip of the round, hardened head parted the soft, tickling pubic hair, wormed it slowly into her gently pulsating cunt. The lubricated vaginal walls pressing on all sides of his shaft gave him a pleasure jolt. Angie felt it too. She clenched her buttocks together, as if to lock the hungry, throbbing penis within her. Doug pulled his cock up and almost out and then pressed harder in her. Their excitement grew with each in and out thrust. Their bodies fought each other, moving faster and more frantically against each other. His hardened rod of boy-flesh pounded deeper and deeper into her; her engorged vaginal walls pressed closer against the plunging shaft of his excited cock, lengthening the tunnel to swallow more and more of it deeper and deeper inside her smooth quivering belly. She pushed her body harder and harder against his to keep the foraging cock as far within her as humanly possible.
Their writhing young naked bodies meshed, moving in and out and up and down, and quickened. Hearts pounding, minds spinning, breathing light and fast, their bodies knew only burning pleasure. Their pleasure heightened and grew and grew until it became unbearable and their bodies locked in a desperate embrace and stilled. The locked bodies turned off and their minds turned on. Raw emotions swirled and danced in their minds and emanated through their grinding, interlocked genitals. And then it burst… burst for both of them at the same time.
They lay quietly for several minutes.
"I wish you'd smash into me so hard that we'd never separate," Angie said longingly.
"I wouldn't want to hurt you," Doug said solicitously.
"I want you to," Angie said fiercely. "It feels good. Love makes me strong. It can't hurt me."
"Do you feel my semen squirt into you?" Doug asked shyly.
"Yes."
"That's when it feels most pleasurable to me. So intense it hurts."
"I can't tell what happens inside me when I feel the most pleasure. But I think it feels the greatest when we reach our orgasms together," Angie said warmly.
"I think it does too," Doug agreed. "Am I getting too heavy for you?"
Angie hugged him harder against her. "No, I like your penis in me. I wish it could stay in me forever."
Their eyes met shyly and they were both surprised to see the other's face bathed in an indistinct glow. Angie had never thought Doug was that good looking before and Doug had never thought Angie was so beautiful.
"You know what?" Doug said wonderingly. "I think I love you."
Angie's eyes shone with pleasure. She hugged him tightly and reached up and kissed him virginally on his lips. "I love you, too."
"It's odd," Doug said seriously. "I hadn't planned on it happening. Did you?"
"Well," Angie said blushing a little, "I thought it might happen and I decided I wouldn't mind falling in love with you."
"Wow?" Doug said. He rolled from between her still spread legs onto his side and held his head in both hands and closed his eyes. Girls certainly were mysterious. How could Angie guess what the outcome might be? Guess that's what older men meant when they said they were trapped by a girl. Well, it was certainly a nice way to be trapped. He felt a surge of protectiveness for her. He must assume his responsibilities and take care of her.
"Are you all right? Do you need anything?" he asked.
"Huh?" Angie asked, caught unawares; then she caught on. "I'm fine, I don't need anything. Do you?"
"Just to rest beside you for a while," he said.
They cuddled together and rested for about a half hour.
Angie stirred. "Did you want to try something new?"
"I'd thought of trying 69, but we don't have to if you don't want to."
"But I want to if you want to. What is it?"
"It's oral stimulation. We arouse each other by stimulating the sex organs with our mouths."
"Let's try it," Angie said.
"You really want to?" Doug asked dubiously.
"Yes, I do." Angie kissed him lightly on the mouth. "Tell me how it's done."
"Well…" Doug sat up energetically, all enthused. "We have to lay with our heads in opposite directions, our bodies curved. See? Like this."
He laid down on his side facing her with his head opposite her feet.
"Now you take my penis in your hands and put it in your mouth. While you rub the shaft with your hand and caress the end with your lips and tongue, I'll lick your clitoris and put my tongue in your vagina."
Angie felt a sudden fear brought on by Doug's explanation. What would her mother say? Intercourse was bad enough – perversion was infinitely worse. Now that she thought about it, she had read about it in the marriage manuals. She hadn't been looking forward to trying the act.
Doug saw her reluctant expression and guessed what she was thinking. "You don't have to if you don't want to."
Angie looked at him. He had that funny gleam in his eyes he always got when he was really interested in something. A feeling of love engulfed her. "No, no. I want to."
She moved over closer to his legs and gingerly enfolded his limp penis in her hand. It was red and wrinkled and the forest of pubic hairs it sprouted from looked obscene. She fought against her feeling of revulsion. It was so limp it felt awful. She wanted to drop it and run away and hide.
"Go ahead," Doug encouraged. "Just lick the end with your tongue to begin with."
She leaned over closer to the penis and the odor of his genitals grew stronger. Angie started to choke.
"You don't want to," Doug said in a disappointed voice.
"I will – I will. Give me time," she said hurriedly.
She stuck out her tongue and touched the shiny red end of his penis lightly. It felt warm and slippery. She twirled her tongue around the round end. She could feel Doug licking her clitoris with his tongue. Electrical shocks surged through her body. Her vaginal area began to burn. Angie began to caress the shaft with her hand while she licked the end. She felt triumphant when the penis hardened in her hand. She pushed the penis farther back into her mouth and began sucking it. The penis grew in her mouth, filling it. She rubbed the shaft with her hands faster and faster, a sudden sense of power engulfing her.
Now she could feel Doug sticking his tongue in and out of her vagina. Her body began to burn and it started to undulate. Her pulse quickened. She began circling the penis around in her mouth, sucking it, pushing it in and out with loud sucking sounds. Saliva oozed out of the corner of her mouth.
The end of the penis swelled and filled her mouth. Her tongue could feel the slippery shaft harden even more. She sucked and massaged it faster and faster. The distended red banana jumped into a life of its own. It began contracting back and forth, pushing against her throat. She began choking and grew frantic. She tried to twirl it out but it pushed faster and harder against her throat. Faster and harder, choking her and pushing all her breath out of her.
Suddenly, Doug cried out. He seized her head cruelly to stop her movements. Semen spouted into her mouth, sprayed her throat and dribbled down her chin. She choked and another spurt came. She started swallowing and spitting for dear life. Doug let out agonized cries with each spurt; they frightened her. Another and another came. She sputtered and swallowed them in painful gulps to keep from choking.
Finally Doug let go of her head. He lay panting heavily, and then he collapsed utterly weak.
Angie spit out the rest of the semen and wiped her spattered face on a blanket. She laid back exhausted, too tired to think or feel. She regained her strength first. "Are you all right, Doug?"
"Yeah," he said weakly.
"You cried out so. It scared me."
Doug shook his head in amazement. "The sensation is stronger than regular intercourse. The pleasure turns into unbearable pain," he explained in an almost clinical tone.
"I liked the ordinary way better."
Doug patted her head condescendingly. "So do I."
She turned around and slid into his arms and they lay quietly and dozed.
"We've still got a lot of other things to try," Doug said. "But I can wait until next Friday."