Betty was probably the only real girl friend I ever had, in the boy-girl sense. She was a tall, well-built girl with long blond hair and sturdy bones. Her breasts were well developed and she had a way of wearing tight sweaters that said she knew that she had a real nice pair. Her pale complexion was accented by a mild case of adolescent acne and her hazel eyes gave the appearance that she was about to cry. She was a popular girl in school, popular with the "in" group, of which I was not a member. Yet for some unknown reason she was crazy about me, a no-body, instead of the school sports heroes.
She caught me at just the right age, not yet fourteen, and an eighth grader. I was old enough to know a little and still young enough not to have been really fucked. We were normal in every way. We held hands in the halls at school, walked home with our arms around each other, went to shows, dances, and school affairs together. I brought her home to meet my parents on several occasions and they thought we were awfully cute, even though Betty was a shiksa. And, of course, I spent all of my efforts trying to get into her virginal pants, without success.
Looking back, I wish that I had known more virginal little Bettys. I never got a chance to go to a high-school dance, or to rent a tux for a prom or to buy flowers for my date. After Betty I never held hands in the hallways again. I never had to worry about what I would say to a girl on the phone; never had to make up speeches to ask her out, or be crushed if I was refused. These were just some of the disadvantages of learning too much too soon, of growing too old too young.
While I was going with Betty my drumming talents were discovered by older, high-school musicians, who often played dances at private clubs and parties. Everything was kept quiet because both the people who gave the dances and we scab musicians were afraid that the union would find out. Union goon squads had been known to crash dances where scabs were playing and bust up expensive instruments, not to mention noses. As time went on I was contacted more often to play with groups around town. This meant that I had to arrange to borrow drums from a friend or from the school, and then arrange to be picked up and driven home, since I was still too young to have a driver's license. It also meant that my hours were becoming quite late and irregular, a source of constant friction and bickering at home.
One night I got a call to play a gig at a rental hall in the Sunset district, south of Golden Gate Park. It was a Greek wedding reception. We arrived at eight-thirty to start setting up, so we could play from nine to one. To bring in the drums and get them ready was a fairly long and complicated operation. As I went about nailing in bass drum studs and screwing on cymbals the thought never occurred to me that this would become a banner night.
We started playing at nine with a little "Stella by Starlight." It was apparent that most of the guests had been drinking heavily all day; they were gloriously drunk. By nine-fifteen the men decided that they wanted to have Greek folk dancing instead of our music, and a phonograph and pile of records appeared magically. The host apologized to us, paid us each our ten dollars, and had drinks brought for us.
I was standing with my drink, watching the festivities, when I felt a gentle tug on my sleeve. I turned to face a girl of about eighteen, blond but with dark eyes and a dark complexion. She was wearing a pink formal gown, cut low at the neck, so I could see the swell of her breasts above the material. She had a long, thin neck, narrow, bare shoulders, and spindly arms covered with fine, dark hair. I looked at her arms and wondered if her cunt was also hairy.
"Would you like to learn?" She pointed, smiling, to the guests dancing wildly around the room, both men with women and groups of men together.
"Sure," I said.
She led me onto the dance floor and began to demonstrate, but had to hold on to me for support as it developed that she was pretty well bombed. I seemed to have twelve left feet, tripping all over myself to the intricate steps that she did so easily, even drunk. The more I stumbled, the more she laughed, shaking her head and saying, "No, silly, not like that, like this," She would demonstrate once more, and I would fall or stumble once more, only to be laughed at still harder. Finally, weak from laughing and dancing, we staggered over to a vacant corner and slumped to the floor, exhausted. Still breathing hard, I turned to face her and saw a small mouth, a longish straight nose, and dark, torrid eyes regarding me very seriously. Then I became serious, too. We looked into each other's eyes for what seemed a very long time.
"You have the most beautiful eyes… " she said softly.
"So do you," I answered, meaning it. Just the way she looked at me had me hard.
"What's your name?" she whispered.
"Richard."
"I'm Ellena." She gently took my face into her hands and brought it toward her. I started to throb between my legs, and I had already jacked off about three tunes that day.
I received my first real kiss. She kissed me and I responded, learning silently by example. Her breath smelled sweetly of liquor. She twisted her lips against mine slightly, as I felt her arms slip around my neck and her tongue against my almost closed lips. It was rapturous until she pulled her head back slightly with a quizzical expression on her face. "Don't you french?" she asked.
French? Hell, the only kind of french I knew about was the kind they gave you in the whorehouse. But, not being that dumb, I got the idea.
"Come here," I said, kissing her this time as she had taught me. I felt her mouth open and plunged my tongue in, with some vague misgivings about sanitation and germs and things like that. Her tongue darted around mine, then pushed its way into my mouth, where I promptly rubbed my tongue all over it. We slobbered a lot, Ellena because she was drunk and me because I was inexperienced, but it did feel awfully good in spite of all the spittle gurgling around.
We sat there and kissed for about an hour, and between mutual mouth washings we talked a little. She raved on drunkenly about my eyes and I tried to find out as much as I could about her, mainly if and where I could get her alone. I did find out that she was a senior at San Mateo High on the peninsula, and that she had driven her father's car up for the reception, along with a girl friend. We decided that we wanted to be alone, so the problem became what to do with her girl friend. Herb had already left with the drums in his car, giving me a big wink and a wave as he went out the door. When one of us was working on a chick, the others always covered, so I knew I didn't have to worry about knocking down the set and loading it.
But this was my night and providence smiled, for as we were talking about it a commotion erupted across the room. A plumpish, mousy-looking girl had passed out on the dance floor. It was Ellena's girl friend, overcome with ouzo. With the aid of two burly Greek guests we dumped her into the back seat of Ellena's car. The girl friend was dead weight; from the way she looked, I noted with some satisfaction that she probably wouldn't wake up for about six years.
Ellena offered me the car keys and I panicked. If she found out I was just fourteen she would clump me as quickly as Donna had. "I don't want to drive," I said. "I want to sit and look at you."
For a change I said the right thing. I was learning. Ellena beamed proudly and we got into the car. I gave her directions to the parking lot across from the zoo and facing the ocean, a notorious make-out place not far from where we then were. It was foggy and- she drove slowly. I put my head in her lap, nuzzling down into the crevice between her legs. She opened them a little more and I began kissing the area that I thought was her cunt, pressing hard through the material of her dress. She slumped down a little to give me better access, still playing the game as though she didn't know "what I was doing. I was so hard I had to shift my weight onto my side to avoid putting undue pressure against the car seat. I was afraid that I might blow my load before we even got there. I tried sniffing a little but could only smell the silk of her dress. Each time she went for the clutch or the brake my head would be moved and I would have to find my place all over again.
Finally we came to a stop and Ellena killed the engine. With my head in her lap I couldn't see anything, but the sound of deep snoring from the back seat was unmistakable.
"We're here," she said.
Neither of us moved. I didn't want to sit up and start kissing her again when I already had my head between her legs. I kept thinking about the picture I had seen of a guy eating cunt in Slave Master and wondering what it was like. Then I felt the seat move back and my head slid away from the bottom of the steering wheel. The girlfriend snorted loudly and we both laughed. Ellena's soft hands began running through my hair and caressing my face as she spread her legs wider apart and with a slight pressure of her hands moved my head more tightly into her crotch.
I moved my free hand up the front of her dress, felt her lean forward, felt her hands go away from my head, then heard a zipper. Then her hand was on mine, guiding it to her throat, then slowly down across the breast bone, then down still further onto her naked breast, then over her nipple, where she began to push my hand in a slow, circular motion. My sensitive inner palm felt her nipple come erect and hard.
Ellena seemed to be only a body and hands. To be honest, I didn't quite know what the hell was going on, what she wanted me to do, or how far I could go, but I was content to let the hands show me. They cradled my head and lifted it slowly up her body. I could see that she had pushed her dress and strapless bra down around her waist. With my palm still circling the nipple of her right breast, her hands brought my head to her left nipple. Her breasts were small, but she was far from flat-chested, even though I noticed that her bra was padded. Like many girls with small breasts, she had small nipples that seemed to stick out a long way when aroused. Using pure instinct, I began kissing and sucking her nipple as I moved my right hand between her legs, still through her dress. She responded by moaning and started to hump lightly against my hand. It was great sucking her breast, but what I wanted was cunt. I was thinking how I could get her naked. I moved my right hand to the bottom of her skirt, caressing her legs and moving up them slowly. I got to the top of her stockings, stroked the bare soft flesh of her thighs, and then moved on to what I thought was the crotch of her panties. But they didn't feel right.
Now the problems started. She was wearing one of those damn rubberized panty-girdles. Alternately stroking her crotch so she wouldn't lose her excitement and trying to get my fingers under that damn, tight elastic, I finally gave up.
But Ellena didn't. "Sit up a minute," she breathed. I let go and sat up, as she shifted her hips up and pushed her girdle and stockings down around her knees. She knocked off her pumps and, with me helping, peeled the stockings off entirely. Except for her dress, pulled around her middle, she was now naked, and I had been right about her. Even in the dim, foggy night I could see a beautiful mass of dark, curly hair.
I didn't have much choice. She grabbed my head with both hands and put it between her legs, scrunching down almost sideways on the seat. I would have loved to have gotten a good look at it but I didn't have time. The next thing I knew, my lips were against something soft and warm and very slippery. I could feel the fine, curly hairs against my face and for the first time my nose caught the sweet aroma of a passionate cunt. Mixed in was the odor of urine, but, Ellena's lack of hygiene aside, it was altogether pleasant.
Here I was, me, with my face actually buried in the real pussy of a real girl. This was no fantasy and I was enjoying it, not only the feel of it but the experience of it.
Her hand continued to guide my head, but there seemed to be a minor tug-of-war going on. Although by this time I was cramped and uncomfortable, kneeling on the floor of the car, I kept trying to lower my head slightly between her legs, where I could feel the soft, wet slit. But Ellena kept trying to raise my head up slightly. I mean, what did I know about a clitoris? I thought the cunt was all there was.
The battle went on for a few minutes and I was getting confused. Finally. I guess in exasperation, she cooed, "Lick it, baby, lick it." I had just been kissing and pressing my lips against it, which is what I thought you were supposed to do. After all,-the pictures in Slave Master weren't that clear. But I figured, what the hell, she must know what she wants, so I relaxed my head, letting her hands guide me, and started licking vigorously with my tongue. "Not so fast," she moaned.
I slowed down the action, and it was like a revolution. Suddenly she started pumping rhythmically and moaning, "Ugh-ugh-ugh," over and over again. She got very wet and my face became soaked with her juices. It smelled different, sweeter, and the odor of urine disappeared. The tempo of her pumping increased, and my licking increased with it, as her hands pressed me harder into her. Her breath began to come very fast. She stopped moaning and just panted, putting one leg onto my shoulder so I could feel the soft flesh of her inner thigh. It was then, and it is today, one of 'the most erotic sensations I know. Her knees began rocking in and out, opening and closing against my head. Her pumping became inhumanly fast, and then she seemed to stop panting and hold her breath. Her ass raised off the seat of the car, her hands pushing my head into her so far and hard I thought I would either suffocate or drown. Ellena shuddered, vibrating while her knees still opened and closed around my head. Then she sighed and slumped back onto the seat, legs relaxed beside me, her hands toying playfully with my hair.
I had a feeling that something had happened, but I wasn't sure what. She didn't seem the same. I continued licking, only to have her push my head away from her and pull me up for a kiss. She didn't seem to mind my wet face, although I was embarrassed about it, thinking that I should at least have dried it, or something.
Ellena still panted, but it seemed to be more from exhaustion. She began caressing my shirt front and fumbling at the buttons. I sat up, slipped out of my blue cardigan band jacket, took off my bow tie, and undid my shirt, belt, and pants button. She held me loosely, smiling and rubbing her hand all over my chest, which was pretty hairy even at that age. Her hand slid slowly down over my pants, feeling the big bulge, moved to the belt, and, finding it undone, went to the zipper. She started to tug because she didn't have the right leverage to get it down, so I unzipped it and she slipped her hand under my jockey shorts, just able to feel my hair and the base of the shaft, because of the position it was in. "Why don't you sit up?" she suggested softly.
I squirmed upright, peeling my shorts and pants down to my ankle. "God!" she said, reaching down to grab it with both hands. It was the second time that a girl had mentioned my size, and I was beginning to think that I might be unusual. As she worked on me, I was glad I had jacked off before, during the day. Also, I had now been hard for so long that it hurt, and I had lost some of my urge to ejaculate.
Ellena moved her hands lovingly up and down the shaft for a few minutes. Then, without any preliminaries, she lowered her head and took it into her mouth. Christ, what a feeling! If her cunt felt anything like her mouth, it was going to be just great. She sucked me for quite a while, moving her head sometimes slowly and sometimes fast up and down the shaft of my cock, until I began to get that old, familiar feeling. I put my hand down to stop the motion of her head.
"Let me put it in you," I said, remembering my trip to Vallejo and determined not to be cheated again. I was thinking about shifting her down onto the seat and getting on top of her, but Ellena had other ideas. Without giving me a chance to move her, she climbed on top of me, straddling my legs, and kissed my very hard, shoving her tongue far into my mouth. I had the thought that the lips that were just sucking my cock were now kissing me, and I began to wonder how clean I was, and tried to remember if I had taken a shower that afternoon.,
Realizing that she wanted to be on top, I reached down, grabbed my organ, and tried to shove it into her by a series of upward thrusts. All I got was skin. It always seemed to slip off to one side. Once, thinking I finally had the right place, I damn near shoved it into her asshole. She winced and reached down with her hand to guide me, whispering urgently, "don't come in me." Suddenly I felt the softest, warmest, wettest, squishiest sensations over the head of my cock, which seemed to travel down the shaft in ripples. If I thought a mouth was great, I never dreamed what a really wild, voluptuous sensation a nice cunt would offer.
Ellena moaned and her eyes rolled up in her head as she sank down on me. "God, it's beautiful," she said as she began to move up and down, her arms tight around my neck. Once she moved too far up and it slipped out. Reaching down, she had it back inside of her in just a second. She started to pant again, moving fast and moaning loudly. Then it slipped out again. Once more she put it in and continued, going from long, smooth strokes to sharp, jerky ones. This was just too much for me. The sensation was too great, the feeling too good. I held on tightly to her and with a large shudder emptied my load into what felt like a squishy sponge. She tried to pull away, but in the throes of delirium I held on to her too strongly.
Ellena quickly pulled herself off of me. Breathing hard more from exertion than passion, she yelled, "What in hell did you do that for?"
"Do what?" I asked stupidly.
"Come inside of me, idiot!" The sweet girl seemed to have disappeared, replaced by a shrewish hag.
"I don't know," I said defensively.
"Christ! He doesn't know." She fished a handkerchief out of her purse and began hurriedly wiping herself. I could see gobs of white goo dripping out of her.
"Do you want to get me pregnant?"
"No. Of course not."
"Well, Jesus! I already had my goodies. I just let you put it in 'cause you said you wanted to, and 'cause I wanted to see what one that size felt like." She pointed to my deflated prick, which didn't look so proud at all, anymore. "Then you go and ruin it all." And she started to cry. Suddenly the car became chilly. The windows were all fogged up from our breath. I felt tired and nauseated with no more interest in Ellena. I just wanted, to go home to my nice, warm bed.
But the worst shock was yet to come.
"Ellena, I'm gonna tell your Mother on you!" The girl friend, whom we had completely forgotten, was hanging over the back of the front seat leering.
Ellena did the only thing a nice girl who had had too much to drink and had just been fucked hard could do, she opened the door and vomited out into the parking lot for five minutes.
I asked her to drop me at the corner of Fortieth and Balboa. This was several blocks from where I lived, and if I did get her pregnant she'd have a hell of a time finding me, since she didn't know my last name. Come to think of it, I didn't know hers, either.
We drove to the nearest open service station, where both girls, bickering loudly, disappeared into the John. They bitched all the way to Fortieth and Balboa as to whether the fat girl friend would keep her mouth shut. By that time I really didn't care. I had gotten what I wanted and Ellena's problems were now of no interest to me. I just wanted to get home.
In bed a few minutes later, exhausted from a long day and a longer evening and just the general tension of it all, I felt a great deal of personal satisfaction. At the age of fourteen, after three years of dreaming what it would be like, I had finally done it.
I had been fucked.