Alan Edwards stretched his muscular arms back over his head of blond hair and stretched. His bronze-tanned body arched back as he yawned. When he came back to his relaxed sitting position up on the lifeguard tower, a smug smile came across his face. He was happy, feeling absolutely content and carefree.
He had it easy. A great job. Sit all day by the pool and absorb a great tan, swim whenever he wanted, keep his eyes on the people lounging around or swimming in the olympic-sized pool. That was the best part, watching the people-in particular the females. It was almost impossible not to keep his eyes on the luscious, reclining bodies in their next-to-nothing swimsuits. And the majority were women: that's who came to country clubs during the weekdays while their husbands sat in some hectic office.
Terra-Mar Country Club was one of the most exclusive and expensive country clubs on the whole San Francisco peninsula and he was lucky enough to land the lifeguard job. What a break, what a way to spend summer vacation from San Jose State University, where he was in his second year.
When he wandered into the heavily-gated grounds of Terra-Mar three weeks ago, his pulse was pounding. He never thought he'd get the job. There must have been forty other guys there with applications. But the woman in charge of hiring, some social bigwig named Mrs. Grace Cunningham, liked it when he said, "I need the money to pay for the treatments on the skin cancer I'll get from the sun."
For some crazy reason she thought that was funny as all hell. Next thing he knew they called and he was it. Weekday lifeguard, hundred and a quarter a week, pool privileges and his own private locker.
He had an inkling of Grace Cunningham's secondary motive three days later when she showed up at the pool. This time she was in her swimsuit, if it should be called that. It was a string-tie job, with abbreviated patches of red cotton to cover the last frontier before absolute nudity.
Alan was impressed. She had to be around thirty-eight but it didn't show. Her body was as tight and solid as any of the high-school girls constantly at the pool. Her mature, full-blown breasts filled the skimpy bikini top to the brim and bulged to each side with even more delicate meatiness. She had a flat, firm stomach and deeply cut waist above the husky, ripe thrust of wide, woman's hips. The graceful curve of her ass, only half-covered by the bottoms, slid abruptly down to long, smooth legs.
Grace's well-groomed head of short, jet-black hair was in a perky, "younger" style which complimented the full lips and large, wandering eyes of her face.
"Have everything under control?" she asked with her sultry, intriguing voice.
"Yes, ma'am," Alan replied.
"Good." Her hand touched his knee for an instant. Just enough to drive his metabolism into high gear, but not long enough for him to be positive about her motive. "I'm depending on you not to let me down."
She went to a chaise longue and stretched her enchanting body out where he couldn't help but stare. No, I won't let you down, he said to himself as he shifted weight to allow the semi-erection in his swimsuit some relief from the stretching confinement.
Then the bomb dropped in his crotch and blasted a half hard-on into the state of fully realized hard cock. Teresa Cunningham stepped from the clubhouse to the poolside and looked around for her mommy. Alan's hands clenched tightly to the armrests of his high chair to keep himself from plummeting to her gorgeous feet.
It was all there. Everything Mom had, she passed on to dear daughter. At eighteen Teresa possessed the bodily proportions and heavenly face that only the artsy cartoonists who have their creations on the back of male magazine fold-outs can imagine.
Her bikini was identical to Mom's, only white. White just like the whiteness of her untanned areas. She looked nude and hairless, like a grown-up baby, as the white flesh went beyond the cotton to the suntan line made by a larger swimsuit. The effect was more arousing than nudity; it was somehow obscene, just too much exposure for a mere man to take without having coronary problems.
Teresa's giant breasts sat high and solid on her erect, poised frame. Alan could see the youthful uplift of the tits, which went against all laws of physics. The pulpy lumps of her nipples showed like shadows through the white fabric. And down below where the vee of material covered her crotch was a more distinguishable shadow, a shadow caused by the small patch of jet-black hair sitting in there.
When she walked everything moved. The rounded buns of her ass hefted and dropped with each step, her breasts shuddered with solid self-support. She lay down next to her mother. Alan saw the daughter had long hair, jet-black too, but it hung down past her shoulders to the small of her back. Other than that, they were the same model: one young and firm, one mature and ripe. It was more than any man would dare dream of handling.
But Mrs. Cunningham never went beyond an occasional pat on the shoulder or wink to show she was pleased with his performance on the job. She showed no interest in seeing his performance off the job. So Alan decided to let the mother have her way and concentrated on Teresa.
She was a coy chick. Smart, well-schooled and pursued by half a dozen guys. Rich guys with Jaguars, tennis rackets, big smiles and styled haircuts. Alan's green Volkswagen didn't stand a chance: his tennis was more of an embarrassment than a game; his hair a collection of wisps, streaks and split ends. But he did have a smile.
He used it and she smiled back. Then he used his nicest, friendliest personality, which seemed to get him nowhere. So he switched to the commoner-than-thou routine he reserved for emergency cases. His desire for the girl was quickly becoming a five-alarm emergency.
The humbleness did it. He was pretty sure it would. Rich girls can't stand it when someone agrees that they're the greatest thing on earth. They get enough of that crap from parents to guarantee they'll hate it. And she did.
"Why do you act like I'm such a big shot and you're a nobody?" she bluntly asked Alan.
Alan grinned inside and looked hurt outside. "I'm sorry. I didn't think it showed."
"Well, it does. Why do you act that way?"
The vehemence of her questioning let Alan know he was under her skin, right where he wanted to be. "I don't know… I guess it's because you have everything I want. Money, social status, beauty and charm."
His words pounded in like solid-gold nails. She loved it but refused to admit it. "That's not true!"
When she stamped her foot to enforce her protest, the tops of her mounded breasts jiggled like Christmas Jello molds. Alan held tight to his armrests and tried his smile.
"I'm sorry, Teresa, but it is true. Look at it objectively. You're from a wealthy family that enjoys a respected social position in the community."
"That's no reason to feel inferior!" she argued.
"And you are very beautiful and extremely charming."
"Oh, I am not… " Her foot failed to stamp down on this protest.
"There's no reason for you to be interested in someone like me. I'm from common stock, second-generation immigrants. And when I see someone as cultured and intelligent as you I automatically know you're above my class."
She reacted with shock to the word "class." It was a dirty word, as bad as the word fuck in the 1950's. It was the one word to carry all the accusations of repression, bigotry, intolerance and snobbery that an eighteen-year-old girl looked forward to changing.
When he saw the pink flush in her smooth cheeks Alan knew his veiled challenge was being taken. He had pressed the right button, tricked the Jaguars and taken a giant step into the attention of Teresa Cunningham. Now it was a matter of making her do all she could to rid him of this misconception-all she could.
It started off slow, with frequent poolside talks and a noticeable lack of interest in tennis. Soon Teresa was coming to the country club for one reason alone, to see Alan and indulge herself in "adult" conversation. And Alan took his steps slowly to guarantee she never suspected his ultimate, insomnia-causing motive.
After a week her boldness started to press through. Alan noticed that the casual positions she assumed while talking displayed more and more of her anatomy, in as appealing a way as possible. And it was impossible not to present it appealingly! Her interest in social righteousness was waning, a new drive was compelling her. Why hadn't he asked her out?
She dropped every conceivable hint: expressed her boredom with the other guys at the country club, said how she usually had nothing to do at night, latched onto everything he showed interest in with the vehemence of "things in common."
Alan finally couldn't hold back and asked if she'd consider going to a movie with him. His request was practically an apology for not being able to afford something more lavish. She hit him with an instantaneous "Yes!"
Next came the dreaded meeting of the parents. He already knew Mrs. Cunningham and honestly wasn't looking forward to her reaction to his courting Teresa. He inhaled a deep breath to quell his nerves while pulling into the long Hillsborough driveway that curved up to the palatial, pillared-front entrance of the mansion.
Mr. Cunningham answered the door, introduced himself, shook Alan's hand and smiled. Alan relaxed; the grey-templed man was okay, he appeared to be used to a kaleidoscope of young male callers after his daughter. But Grace Cunningham was a different story. She greeted Alan with visible coolness, a curt smile and a frigid "Hello, Alan."
As soon as Teresa appeared, her beautiful body dressed in pure white slacks and a soft yellow tank top, Alan dragged her off. It was the first time he ever saw her dressed. What her bulging breasts and swerving rump did to the clothing was sinful. The delicious curves of her anatomy refused to be confined, obscured, or dimmed by something as foolish as clothing.
Alan took her to a drive-in and by the beginning of the second feature had her in the back seat with her arms tightly wrapped around his shoulders. Their tongues danced to the introductory music and titles of the film they never saw. Teresa's generous, giving mouth made frantic sucks on the deep stabs of Alan's scooping tongue.
His hands went to the breasts and pressed into the pliant masses of heaving softness. Teresa arched, jammed her hot tits fully into his plying fingers and groaned with ecstatic happiness before suddenly collapsing away and defending the honor of her flesh.
"Alan, please…" she meekly scolded.
"I knew it," he said.
"Knew what?"
"That you didn't mean the things you said, that I'm really not good enough for a girl like you." He turned his back in a pout and waited.
She couldn't allow it. "No, Alan, it's not that… it's just that I… I… "
Her sudden silence was unexpected. Alan turned and asked, "What?"
She was crying, glistening tears rolled from her large blue eyes to drip down her cheeks as she admitted her reason for stopping him. "I'm a virgin."
Alan felt like a Chinese gong had just been clobbered by a Sumo wrestler in his head. Impossible! Eighteen, stacked to the limits of nature, beautiful, popular-and a virgin?
He coughed away the tightness in his throat before stammering, "Really? You're a virgin?"
With an embarrassed nod of her head she readmitted the condition. "I'm sorry," she meekly whispered.
"Sorry? There's nothing to be sorry about. We can overcome it," said Alan as his arms went protectively around the poor invalid.
"I'm afraid," she whispered in his ear.
Alan's guts were about to explode with excitement. He couldn't believe it, what a treat, an honor, a rarity! His hands tenderly lifted her tear-streaked face up to his and he kissed softly, caressingly until all the wet was gone. Then he sat back with her comfortably cradled in his arms. A thought ran through his mind.
"Not here," he said. "Not in the back seat of an old Volkswagen… not even in the back seat of a brand-new Rolls Royce, dammit!"
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"A hotel. We should go check into a nice hotel and enjoy it in comfort."
With her face deeply buried in the crook of his arm, Teresa grinned. Presto!
Alan crawled to the front and started the car. His head craned back and he asked, "That is if you want to go through with it? Do you?"
"Okay," she quietly whispered. Her face went down to hide the mischief in her eyes. It worked like a charm, always did. Like she told her girlfriend Eileen, "If you ever want to get a guy to treat you right, tell him you're a virgin."
Alan whined the transmission of the car into high gear and headed straight for the El Camino Real, where hotel after hotel sat along the road like toothpaste in a drugstore. Fortunately he had his pay in his pocket. Money wasn't something to consider during such a once-in-a-life-time event as a hymen breaking.
"Guys and their games are great," she told Eileen. "They love to put one over on us girls… The only thing to do is let them think they're doing it and put a bigger one over on them."
Alan pulled into the first hotel he found-a new, brightly-lit structure with gardens and the standard spraying fountain. Teresa sat in the car as he checked them in, paid the $22.50 and came bounding back from the office. "Room 14B!" he announced. "King-sized bed, color TV and a vibrating mattress!"
"Oh… I've never been to a hotel with a guy before," she lied. "Don't they check to see if we're married?"
"Hah! Not if they ever want to rent a room!"
The room was expansive, colorful and brand new. Alan bounced down on the bed and sighed. "Nice place," he said.
Teresa hung near the door and fearfully nodded. He went to her and gallantly took her into his arms. "Don't worry, Teresa, everything will be fine."
"I hope so," she said. "I'm trusting you, Alan. Please be easy and understanding."
His face glowed with flattered confidence as he steered her to the bed and eased the heavily breathing beauty of her body to the mattress. Alan lay down beside her and put his lips to hers. She kissed him with gulping lurches of her mouth as his hands delicately caressed across her neck, shoulders and back down to the blossomed breasts.
She shuddered and made sure her warm breath was hitting his ear as his hands kneaded ever so gently into her tits, as they roamed from one to the other like they were trying to decide on an angle of attack.
She arched up and felt his squeezing pressure on the warm globs. "Ohhh, it feels so good," she sighed.
Alan dug deep into the flesh until he could feel the constriction of her tightening nipples before slowly sliding one hand under her top. His fingers caressed the sleek skin of her stomach, moving upward toward the bra-less mounds. She started to shiver when he reached the beginning slope of the warm, heaving tits.
"Umm." Her head rolled from side to side with closed eyes as the relaxation of the exploring hands flooded through her torso.
Her nipples were like spiraled wood-screws jutting off the tops of the succulent masses. Alan caught them between his fingers and squeezed tightly. The heated jugs flowed like masses of putty around his hands with swinging, rocking movements of her shoulders.
"Oh, Alan, that feels so good," she sighed into his ear with a breathless whisper.
He pushed the top up to her neck and exposed the gelatinous mountains. In the dim lamplight of the room he saw that the suntan line of her older bikini was overlapped by the later sun-tan, which stopped at a new border. Triangles of white, tender flesh surrounded each rose-red, puckered nipple.
"Kiss them… Please kiss them," she muttered as an uncontrollable whine came to her voice.
As soon as his lips touched the burning fire of her nipples, Teresa threw herself up fully to his face. The pliant mammaries mushed against his chin, nose, eyes to pillow his face with warmth and eager comfort. He sucked one nipple deep inside his mouth and battered it with his tongue as her hands went to the back of his head and pulled him hard into the pile of mellowness.
Alan applied pressure to the rubbery cap with his teeth and heard her suck for air. As he rolled the teat over his ivory sharpness, Teresa frantically jammed her hips up against his and started grinding. She twisted and humped until the feel of his stiff erection met her hunting body.
She maneuvered herself so that the big rod grated right into the tight crotch of her white pants. The harder Alan bit on her nipple the more feverishly she scrubbed her cunt against his bulge.
He rolled onto his back and removed his shirt quickly. But before he could get to his pants she was on top of him, grinding again, humping excitedly on the massive growth from his crotch. Her eyes were darting at his, she was licking her lips and delicately perspiring.
For a virgin she's going at me like a vengeful divorcee, he thought to himself.
Alan put his hands on the heaving roundness of her ass and felt it go tight. The big balls of muscle were flexing with power as she drove her sweltering crotch up and down. His fingers came up and slid down under the waist of the white pants to follow the rising field of her bald ass.
"Ohh…" she weakly whimpered as his hands moved deep down to cup each asscheek like a large melon. The plowing of her hips increased to non-stop fluttering jams against his hot pipe.
The crease of her rump was wet with perspiration even though the globs of each bun were cool, refreshingly smooth. Her constant movement allowed his fingers to probe deep into the wet crack, past the anus and down to the boiling tissues of her screaming gash.
The instant he touched the bottom-most part of her slit she shuddered throughout her whole body, pressed her breasts forcefully down to grind against his chest and plastered her cunt and exploding clitoris powerfully onto the pleasure-giving steel of his pecker.
"Uhhhhhhhhh!" she groaned as a climax swelled through her and the ultimate pleasure was released from her guts.
The crazed banging of her cunt against him was driving Alan to distraction. She was climaxing before he even got her pants off! Now he was convinced the girl was a virgin, pure, practically untouched… and all his.
As the trembling wash of the orgasm passed, Alan rolled Teresa onto her back and went straight for the buttons of her white pants. He could see the crotch was stained from the abundant flow of her juices. As he opened them up she sucked her stomach way in and hoisted her rear up to assist. He slid the pants down and away to leave her in nothing but a pair of white, see-through undies.
The healthy pile of her black pubic hair was easily visible under the inadequate cover. The matted wisps of hair curled up against the diaphanous satin until he slipped it down. The crotch hair sprang up in a high fluff to tickle his fingers as her panties were swept away.
While Alan struggled out of his slacks Teresa pulled the tank top from her head and lay back to watch. She felt good. The orgasm was real-it was such a turn-on to feel his gentle, cautious caresses, to know he was treating her like a rare delicacy indeed. And the gigantic feel of his erection! It was the largest cock she ever felt and for sure the hardest. She watched expectantly as he removed the slacks and saw the long pole jabbing high in his briefs.
Teresa knew Alan was big; it was obvious in the swimsuit by the pool She had even dreamt at night about the ultimate size of the long, curled worm she occasionally made a quick, hungry inspection of. But now it seemed much larger than she ever dreamed, tremendous, beautiful, massive.
Alan stripped his shorts down and Teresa made a silent gasp. The flared head was as wide as the head of a poised cobra and sat over a loglike stump which didn't seem to end. It all was based in a bush of brownish hair which curled down to fuzz his hanging scrotum. The shaft was red with a large blue vein circling and running directly up to the glans, which amazed her with a red-purple color. He was hot.
Alan lay next to her. They were both completely nude. As his mouth came to hers Teresa experienced the greatest anticipation she'd ever known. She couldn't wait to feel her cunt straining around the fat cock, to have it whacking into her deepest pussy like a pile-driver. Her arms went eagerly around his neck and she started to jut her hips to his but stopped. That was not the action of a virgin. She waited.
Alan took his time; he didn't want to frighten or scare her now when the moment of truth was so near. Gradually he pulled her close until her nipples touched against the hair of his chest. Then his hand slid to the small of her back and applied gentle pressure. Inch by inch she moved closer to his hot body until their thighs touched.
She held her ass and cunt back away from the cock she was crying for. Alan eased his erection cautiously toward her until it touched her belly. She trembled. His hand moved to the jutting buns and pushed. She came fully against the fire-hot spike and let out a low, breathy sigh.
"It's so big," she whispered.
"Don't worry," soothed Alan.
He had had one virgin before in his life and that was three years ago. She was a fourteen-year-old girl he casually met on the beach who bluntly asked him if he fucked. After admitting he did every time the chance came up, she asked if he'd mind doing it to her.
The skinny little girl went berserk around his shaft, shed profuse tears, cried in pain and climaxed every half-minute. When it was over she thanked him with great sincerity and hobbled down the sand to rejoin her girlfriends, one of whom had been bragging about "getting it."
But Teresa was eighteen; she had managed to make it through the toughest years without giving up; she had to have a strong will. Alan knew the last thing he should do would to be cause her unnecessary pain now. She deserved the best screwing he had in him.
He waited until her body was grinding against him again before gently easing her onto her back. She rolled over with her legs tight together and looked up at him with doe-like questioning eyes "What do I do?" she asked.
"First, relax," he said as his hands slipped her legs apart to open the path to her waiting cunt. And what a cunt! The vulva was an inflated mass of circling flesh around the bright redness of her juice-soaked slice. The black hairs of her crotch ended abruptly just above the gash like they were trimmed to the position; everywhere else was bare, hairless skin which glowed with pink ripeness.
Alan was dying to eat into the cunt, to suck the lips into his mouth, to jam his tongue deep into the boiling wetness and suck her guts out. He wanted to explore her asshole and eat her from the coccyx to the navel. But he resisted the temptation; it was now time to break open the main channel. He could suck everything into his lips later.
She didn't do a thing without his help. Teresa let Alan place her legs wide apart and watched as he came to his knees between her open thighs. He was being so kind, so fatherly that she almost giggled. She really liked Alan, he was the cutest guy she'd met in months.
Alan gently laid his weight down to her body and kissed passionately before moving the broad head of his hard muscle up to touch her tender crack. Teresa tensed, he smiled, she relaxed and closed her eyes. Alan worked the pecker head back and forth across her juice-dripping lips until they parted to each side.
He pressed in. Teresa groaned. He eased back, paused, pressed in again. She grimaced and smiled. He stopped.
Her eyes opened. "Don't stop, Alan. I know it will hurt but I have to do it sometime."
What a girl, he thought. What a brave girl. He pushed the thickness of his pillar deeper and felt the tight collapse of her lips around his glans. So far so good. Alan slowly worked his cock further into the incredibly tight hug of her slick, gushing walls.
Teresa held herself in tight flex while making sure the rest of her body didn't display any tension. It wasn't tough to do, just squeeze down, on the fantastically wonderful hardness of his cock. It felt good, she was pleased with the size, the way it slipped in and peeled her hungry cunt open with the spade-shaped glans.
Alan was less than half-way in when she grimaced, gasped and went real tense. The hymen. She gazed up at him; dots of perspiration were on her lips but her face glowed.
"Wait just a moment," she begged.
Alan did. Teresa inhaled, exhaled, relaxed and nodded to him with self-assured readiness. He pushed in and felt the taut resistance of her cunt walls. But Teresa did a brave thing, she humped her hips up at him and busted the hymen away with one swift motion.
"Oh! Oh…!" She smiled. Pride. Happiness. "That didn't hurt at all… Oh, Alan you're so good."
She broke down easily but Alan expected it. After all, she played tennis, had years of ballet as a child, was an athletic girl, all these physical activities in time served to shred and destroy the virgin head.
Teresa was now lifting up to meet his short, gentlemanly thrusts. She was taking him in completely and sighing with each deeper insert.
"Oh, Alan, it feels so great! I love the way it feels when you do that!" Alan was proud. He had steered her into a painless, joyous first time with no difficulty at all. He believed all men owed it to the rare virgins they found to treat them right, guide them well and teach them all the greatness of the pleasure they were embarking upon.
Now his pecker was making full-depth plunges into her and she was taking it with eager pleasure. Her body was pounding up to his, shifting left and right, swinging under him on the pendulum of his stiff meat. Suddenly her body shook with the spasms of another orgasm.
Perhaps the greatest thing about being the first cock into a cunt is that the tight hole just cries and explodes with appreciation around the pumping meat. Virgins climax easily if you go at it properly. They make up for a lack of coordination and practice with youthful eagerness. But Teresa was coordinated, she knew how to handle her body-another aspect of athletic upbringing.
Alan's rod was pounding with explosive force. The head burned like liquid wax as it dug in and out of the clamping, shuddering tunnel of climaxing muscles. The tension in his loins turned to a flow of tingling heat, his testicles rumbled with release and he felt the delivery of his thick, hot cream coming.
She was bucking up fiercely on his cock as he plastered it straight in, down and deep. She grunted and grabbed at his neck. Then the flood of his jizm sprayed into the newness of her glorying twat.
"Ohhh," she sighed as she felt gobs of paste gushing inside her cooking hole. Geletinous streams of his sperm pumped with gush after gush to coat, paint and billow into the deepest channels and froth back up into the cock-filled tunnel of seething flesh.
Alan eased up on his thrusts after climaxing. He knew she couldn't take a lot of cock on her first trip, better to go easy, give the sweet pussy a chance to toughen and become accustomed to the stretching and grating. He slid his long cock free of her hole and a sticky stream of goo dripped off after following the tip of his cock a good three inches away. It splattered down across the flawless white skin of her supporting ass.
Teresa smiled. She dug his cock. Inside she felt great even though it didn't last long. So what? There'd be more times, she was sure of that. If one thing guaranteed true devotion and dedicated honor it was the virgin routine. And he'd never brag about the conquest to any guys, he was too smart to do that. Alan would know such talk only brings out competition. "Oh? She fucks now? Great, I'll ask her out and get the fucking she wouldn't give me before!"
Alan rolled onto his back and cradled her head in his arm. It worked! The humbler-than-thou routine paid off with a great jackpot. What a girl! He was right all along, treat a princess like a queen and they'll do anything to destroy the image. Make a virgin feel like a virgin and she'll want to fuck like an overpaid whore.
Yes, he'd be silent and cool, she decided. And she could play the social difference right back to him when she wanted to go out with one of the other guys. Tell him her mother set it up. Slowly put things on the basis of a secret romance like she had going with Larry. That'd be perfect.
She'll be fucking like a wild bronco next time, Alan figured. She showed all the potential tonight, real skill. I bet she goes for some cock-sucking and cunt-eating too. And then we'll get to the asshole…
Beautiful cock, such a beautiful cock, she mused. Then she sat up and said, "Alan, you won't tell anyone about this, will you?"
He smiled. "No, no, never."
"Good. I really loved it," she continued. "Can we come here again real soon? I'd like to get here early and do it a lot so I can learn. You'll teach me, won't you?"
He was beaming. "Of course."
"Everything? Everything you know that's fun?"
"Sure."