Prick Dreams
(M/f, teen, size, mast)

by Kysa Braswell

I'm sitting up in the bed, covered with perspiration, breath coming in gasps. A dream? Maybe a dream inside a dream. Rising from the bed, I make my way to the bathroom. Turning on the cold tap, I wet a cloth and hold it to my face. As I look at my reflection in the mirror, I try to recall the dream and the man in it. Oh, yeah. I remember. It was that hunk who just moved in down the street with three other guys. Must be university students. In all honesty I must admit that his good looks had not gone unnoticed by me. Still, I'm surprised that he would pop up in a dream. Making my way back to the bed, I sit down and open the nightstand drawer. After the dream, I must admit that the sight of the revolver makes me feel better, but the sight of the vibrator just makes me feel lonely... and horny. Retrieving the ivory colored electronic marvel, I hold it in my hands looking at it as if I don't know what it's for. Then I laugh softly as my mind drifts back to the time I learned that a vibrator was for more than just a massage.

I was seven days older than thirteen then. I had been on the field with the other cheerleaders going through our routine for the homecoming game. We were in the process of building a human pyramid. Since I was the smallest, standing only 4'8 and weighing 94-lbs., I was on the top tier. Consequently, when one of the girls in the anchor slipped, I found myself pinned between thrashing limbs and bodies. Unfortunately, my body fell in one direction while my right leg was twisted almost backward as the pyramid collapsed.

At first I seemed to be okay, but the next morning I could hardly move my right leg. The doctor said I had a severely pulled muscle in my thigh and that it was probably my excellent muscle tone that prevented my femur from snapping. The verdict was that I should stay off it for the rest of the week. I was devastated about not being able to participate at homecoming, but my parents would hear none of my argument.

Mom and Dad both worked, so I was left home alone for those three days before the weekend. On the third day, Friday, I became bored, but was too sore to do anything but lay around. Tired of my room, I managed to go downstairs to my parents room. They kept the best TV and DVD in their room. They also had one of those adjustable beds. They bought it before such things were fashionable. So, with all the proper amenities, I was soon very comfortable watching one of their more private movies. It was rated "R" which I was normally not permitted to see. It just had the normal everyday violence, profanity and sex. As a thirteen-year old I was rather fascinated by it.

Furthermore, my sex life at thirteen was nil. I hadn't really dated very much except when a bunch of us kids would get together or at some heavily chaperoned school event. If any guy had ever touched me I would have knocked his head off. Of course, my Mom had had the usual conversation with me about "things" when I began my periods, and the 9th grade Health teacher was telling us about reproduction and the human body. The class was taught by the girls' phys. ed. teacher and she gave us a lot of information that we probably wouldn't have heard in a co-ed class.

On the other hand, I had never had a fixation on sex and had never really been interested in boys in that way. All I really grasped was that one day I would get married, have lots of babies, and live happily ever after. No one had ever sat down and talked to me about the sex act in terms of pleasure. Oh, it had been intimated, but it was relegated to "something mysterious" that I had noticed in movies and that some of us girls would giggle about when there was a "sleepover." Actually, I didn't think about sex very much at all which is probably why I didn't know more than I did. What happened to me on that day changed all of that for me forever.

As I lay on the bed, I began to fiddle around with the bed's control module. When I tried to pull it out of its holder, the cord seemed to be stuck. Leaning over the side of the bed to see what was wrong, I noticed an electrical cord trailing from the wall socket to somewhere under the bed. Leaning over the edge, almost losing my balance, I reached down and pulled on the cord. Instead of freeing the control I heard something sliding across the floor. What I retrieved really surprised me.

It was a vibrator - the kind that had interchangeable rubber cups, etc. When I flicked the switch on the handle, the resulting vibration startled me so that I dropped it on the floor. Then the thing began bumping and dancing very loudly across the hardwood floor. I grabbed it and switched it off. I pressed the red rubber cup which looked exactly like a miniature toilet plunger against the palm of my hand and turned it on again. This time, there was only a gentle hum.

I can still remember wondering what it was for. As it hummed its low-pitched tune I brought it down to my ace-bandaged thigh and pressed it very lightly there. The immediate feeling was marvelously pleasant and even though my thigh was still very sore, the sensation seemed to make it feel somewhat better. So there I lay watching the movie on the TV screen, rubbing the vibrator in light circles over my injury.

Since I was home all alone, I had not bothered dressing except for a long t-shirt and a pair of cotton panties. So when I was lulled by the very boring movie and the gentle vibrations into a semi-doze, I dropped the vibrator. It fell, still humming away, between my thighs, landing so that it was leaning against my panty-clad pubes. I was so startled, that I grabbed it and turned it off. There was an awareness that the vibrator, even though briefly, had felt strange against my private area.

I don't know why I did what I did next. I suppose you could call it "experimenting." I flipped the on switch and put the device to my thigh again. This time, as I rotated it over the bandage, I let it drift closer to my pubic area. Pretending that I was doctoring my injury, I let the vibrator get closer and closer to where it had been dropped just moments before. There was definitely a very pleasant feeling that was generated as the device came closer to the edge of my panties at the top of my thigh.

Each circular motion of the vibrator found it closer and closer to my crotch. Emboldened by the fact that I was alone, and driven by the brand new sensations, I Tentatively lifted the device from the surface of my thigh and pressed the head flat against my panty covered pussy. I wasn't sure what it felt like at first, but as I alternated applied and released pressure, I began to feel something building in my loins.

You have to understand that I had never masturbated before. Even at thirteen, I was very naive in many areas and I had never heard of self-arousal. So I thought that I had discovered something so secret that only I knew about it. The more I did this, the harder I pressed the rubber cup to me. After a while, I could tell that my panties were wet in the crotch. I knew that I had not peed on myself, so I became frightened, thinking I had perhaps injured myself. Maybe I had instigated my period early, and I was bleeding.

Quickly pulling the vibrator away and turning it off, I sat up and looked down at myself. Panic subsided into relief when I saw no blood. I pushed my hand inside my panties and felt around. I was soaking wet down there. Even at thirteen, I had enough dark pubic hair that it lay in damp ringlets. I looked at my fingers and saw no blood. Exploring with my fingers again, I inserted one in the top of my slit. I jerked the hand back as if I had been burned, because when I touched myself there, it did something that sent a jolt through me. It had not been unpleasant. So I felt again. This time I began to rub myself there. The intensity had faded, but it still felt very good. Associating what I felt with the vibrator, I turned it on again and pressed it against my crotch once more. This time, I had a finger on what I later learned to be my clit.

My hand had pushed the crotch of my panties aside and the vibrator now rested directly on my pussy. As I pulled the vibrator upward, the finger on my clit was displaced. Evidently, the finger had exposed the little nub by pushing back its fold of skin. This brought the vibrator into direct contact with that extremely sensitive area. I rubbed it up and down my slit, enveloping it in what I considered very long labia, or at least compared with other girls at school. I figured I would grow into them. But being over an inch long in their relaxed state always made my panties puff out.

The feeling my clit was experiencing frightened me at first because it was so intense. I pulled the vibrator away for a few seconds. When I replaced it, my clit was once more covered by its hood which had slipped back in place, so the contact, while not as electric, was nonetheless overpoweringly wonderful. Getting used to the vibrations, I began to experiment by pushing and turning the vibrator this way and that. I soon found that the most sensitive area was at the apex of my slit beneath the fold of skin there.

Then, totally unexpected, and without warning, I felt my pussy begin to pulse and throb. I wanted to take the vibrator away because I thought something was wrong, but my hand, as if paralyzed, only pressed it harder against me, intensifying the feeling. I felt heat pass through my body. My breasts began to tingle. Lifting one hand to one tit, I could feel the nipple standing rigidly outward. I couldn't help the moaning and groaning that followed as something totally unexpected, yet wonderful, was happening to me. It was like nothing I had ever felt, but wave after wave of pleasure rolled over me. It was butterflies in my stomach accompanied by an exhilaration that was pure delight. Then it began to fade. I was exhausted, but I didn't want it to end. I pressed the vibrator harder, but the feeling was gone. Soon, my pussy was so sensitive that the vibrator began to cause a little pain, so I pulled it away.

I felt like I was in another world, a world where secrets are kept from me. I thought, "Oh, my god! This is so wonderful... so addictive: I could die from this." I tried to recount the experience in my mind. It had been as if my whole body had begun to radiate heat from the pit of my stomach. I had felt goose bumps on my arms and legs, my face had seemed on fire. Also there had been that strange tingling sensation in my breasts as my heart pounded as if it had wanted to leap from my chest. The blood had throbbed in my temples and I could hear it rush in my ears. For a frightful moment I had even thought I could be having some kind of heart attack. But remember as I could, the feeling was a fleeting one and could not be re- created in my mind.

I was stunned by what had happened. Not sure of just what it was, and not knowing if I had done harm to myself, I just lay there trying to collect my thoughts. There was no doubt that it was rather a good feeling, and I'm sure I would have enjoyed it even more, had I not been so frightened. I recall that I tried to associating it with a girl in school in the fifth grade who had had some type of seizure and they had to carry her from the room... but no, this had not been the same thing.

By this time I had calmed down sufficiently to think about other things... like food. It was almost noon and I had not had any breakfast. Getting up from the bed, careful with how I turned my leg, I decided I should put the vibrator away. Since my injury would not allow me to bend over, supporting myself with my arms on the bed and the wall, I let my feet slide over the waxed floor until I was seated beside the bed. Pushing the vibrator under it, my hand ran into a box. Curiosity, getting the better of me, I pulled the box out and opened it. It was the home of the vibrator. I could tell because the indentation in the box matched the L-shape of the device.

But there were other things there also, other attachments. There was a rubber cup, much larger than the one I found on the vibrator; a two-inch round flat rubber attachment; a scalp massager with little rubber fingers all over it; a hard rubber piece that looked like a wheel in a wheel, joined by spokes; and most interesting however were two white cylinders of four-inch and eight-inch respectively. Each was made of a soft smooth vinyl or rubber. In the bottom of the box was an owner's manual. Flipping through it, I knew that this was an "Adults Only" warning. It showed how to use the vibrator to "lessen tension," "give soothing relief," and even "aid sleep." But the pictures were of very scantily clad women with gorgeous men holding the device on certain areas (or near) of their bodies. One picture was of the two-inch white rubber attachment being applied at the top of the woman's thigh.

Dropping the book, I took the four-incher and put it on the metal shaft of the vibrator in place of the red one that looked like a suction cup. So there I was sitting on the floor between the bed and the wall, which was about four feet away, my legs parted and outstretched toward the wall, my head and back against the bed. As I considered the altered device, I let one hand move to my panty-clad chevron and pushed the crotch of my panties to one side. The cotton of the panties had seemingly soaked up all my moisture because when I felt my pussy again, it seemed to be mostly dry. Then as I did something that I only do when bathing, I slightly parted the lips of my pussy and found that there was still plenty of slick moisture there. I think my heart actually skipped a beat when I touched my clit. (Remember, I was ignorant of my anatomy and did not know that this was a normal reaction to clitoral stimulation.)

With one hand holding the panties to one side, I used the other to hold the vibrator which I turned on by sliding the switch with my thumb. It leaped to life in my hand and my breathing became labored in anticipation. Very carefully, I touched the white rubber appendage to the ace bandage on my thigh. After all, I didn't want to seem too anxious. After a few perfunctory twirls of it there, I brought the vibrator directly over my cunt again. This time, however, instead of rubbing it around on the surface, I wanted to try something else. It occurred to me that what I was about to do would be sort of like doing it with a boy, but I wouldn't get pregnant (That's how they taught it in Middle School sex education.).

Cautiously, I brought it closer with my right hand as my left hand used my forefinger and middle finger to try to spread my pussy. As I brought it closer, I got nervous. I bit my lip and closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to look. As it touched me, it was too intense and I had to jerk it away. I was not aware that moving it so slowly toward me, made me get a lot more vibration than if it were dead against my flesh. I had not known this, but what I did next taught it to me.

I turned it off and brought it to my cunny again. This time I was able to insert just a fraction of an inch into my pussy. I knew about my hymen and I didn't want it broken. I turned the vibrator on, but had to turn it off again right away - still too much, I removed my fingers and pulled my thighs tight around the vibrator and lifted my knees slightly to "trap" it. When I turned it on this time I was able to cope. It was heavenly. I just held it there barely inserted as it vibrated wonderfully against my clit.

Somehow, I thought this would be better if I were on the bed. Also I was having second thoughts about whether or not I should be doing this. In any case, I turned it off, got up, laid down on the bed, drew my left knee up and spread my legs as far as my injury would allow. It was far enough. Finding my opening with one hand, I pushed the extension into myself again. I forgot about the hymen and let the full two inched in. I didn't get much of a charge out of the entry, but this time when I turned it on, all I can say is that it was wonderful. I closed my eyes and pretended it was one of those men in the book.

My imagination, however, was not of sexual intercourse. All he was doing was holding the vibrator for me just like he was doing for the woman in the picture. Without being consciously aware of it, my hips had begun a rocking motion pushing and withdrawing. I let out a moan and a gasp as the waves of pleasure hit me again. My thighs closed tightly in an involuntary reaction as I kept the vibrator tight against me, wanting to wring every last drop of goodness from this feeling. I don't know how long I let it run, but it was far beyond the extent of my pulsings and throbbings.

After about twenty minutes, (I think I dozed again) I became aware that my juices had dried around the probe. It was stuck to my skin and was a little painful as I pulled it away. But in just a moment, I had a finger in my box to see if I had done any damage. I'm not sure, but I don't think I even had a hymen when the day started. I've decided over the years I probably lost it doing such innocuous things as riding a bicycle. Anyhow, not finding a barrier, I soon had my middle finger inside me as far as it would go. I wasn't sure what to do, but I began pulling and pushing it out and in over and over until I was wanting to feel something, but after a good while of this, all I had succeeded in doing was to irritate my pussy.

Starting to feel another urge, I got off the bed and walked to the bathroom attached to my parent's bedroom. I rarely ever went in there unless we had company or the other two bathrooms were occupied. Pulling my panties down, I sat down and let my bladder empty itself. I patted myself dry with some tissue, stood and pulled up my panties. Returning to the bedroom, I lay back down and watched the rest of the movie. There was now an acute awareness in my mind of every little innuendo of sexuality on the screen. Then in the midst of a particularly steamy love scene where the couple are obviously nude under the sheets and the guys chest is rubbing all over the woman's visibly naked breasts, I began to feel aroused again. Then a particular movement he made led me to know that he was putting his penis inside her (whether they do for real or not, I don't know) and I immediately associated that with what I had done to myself with the vibrator.

Knowing what I would find, I looked over the edge of the bed and saw the eight-inch attachment just laying there in the open box. "Why not?" I thought. Hanging over the edge of the bed, I retrieved it. After examining it for a few moments while I watched the woman on the screen having an experience that I was sure was the same thing that happened to me, I removed the four-inch piece and replaced it with the longer one.

I began by pushing the end of it against my slit and finding no ready opening, began to let it slide up and down the front of my pussy until the tip penetrated the outer lips. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine the guy on the screen putting his thing in me, but all I could see on my eyelids was the hunk from the book holding the vibrator for me. As I continued to let it slide up and down my slit, I could feel my opening being spread further apart. Then with both hands on the device, I pushed the full eight inches into my pussy - I was amazed I could take it!

As soon as I flipped the "on" switch, my pussy spasmed around the rubber extension imbedded in my cunt. I had noted such spasms earlier, but this is the first time anything was inserted into my pussy that the vaginal walls could grip. With only a thirty second or so delay, it happened again. As this orgasm (I'll use the word, though I did not know it when I was thirteen. NOTE: I had heard other girls talk about the BIG O, but of course that had no meaning to me. I just giggled when they giggled, acting as if I knew all about it. I seriously doubt if many of them, if any, knew what it was.) almost literally grabbed me, I began to huff and puff just like the Big Bad Wolf. My breathing became audible and I made strange sounds ranging from soft mewlings to heavy sighs of breath growing into moans. I though that it was never going to stop. And I didn't want it to stop, but after a while, just as before the vibrator again became more of an irritant than a stimulant and I had to turn it off. I knew that as good as it was, I should probably stop. So I finally got up and began to put the thing back like I found it, including the box. I suppose that nothing could surprise me now, but as I glanced under the bed, I found a couple of other interesting things in another box. Reaching for it, I pulled it out. In it I found a large rubber replica of a man's penis. A teaching aid, no doubt, is what I really thought. I could not think of any use for it except to teach someone about a man's anatomy. I thought that until I noticed a slide switch on the base of it.

Silly me, I had to flip the switch. Guess what? That's right another vibrator. As I write this, I'm smiling as I recollect the smile this amazing discovery brought to my adolescent face. Not pressing the issue, I turned it off and went back to the box of goodies. There was a tube of something called "Wild Strawberry Sex Lube." I couldn't imagine what that was for. I opened it, sniffed, and found that it actually smelled like strawberries. I think I giggled.

Next was a book entitled, "A Woman's Sexuality" and one entitled "Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex but Was Afraid to Ask." Then there was a slick covered magazine that offered "200 Sexual Positions." As I thumbed through it, I felt myself getting smarter. I couldn't believe what those people were doing. There were pictures of guys with their big penises in girls pussies, mouths and asses. I couldn't imagine wanting to put one in my mouth (YUK!). And no one could ever get one of those things in my tiny little pussy, let alone, up my rear.

Gathering up what struck my fancy, and the artificial penis of course, I went to the kitchen and had a peanut butter and banana sandwich and a coke while I continued my education. By the time I finished, I knew that both men and women were able to have what is called a "climax" when they have sex. I also learned the "O" word, but misread it as "organism" at first. There were whole chapters devoted to oral sex. At first I thought that meant talking about it, but the graphic description of how to perform it on a man and on a woman was given in lurid detail... and I had pictures in the magazine that showed all the positions.

Then my eyes fell on the most fascinating picture of all. There was a naked man lying on his back on a couch. A woman, completely nude, was lying face up on him. One of her legs was draped toward the floor as she straddled his middle. Her other leg was raised to rest along the back of the couch. The man's left arm reached around her so that his left hand appeared to be pinching her left nipple and his penis was in her "back door," if you know what I mean.

I found all this very interesting, but what I found downright fascinating was something else. In his right hand, he is holding the twin of the artificial penis that I had found under the bed, and he is pushing it, with her assistance, into her pussy. The picture showed insertion of only an inch or two, but my imagination could see it going all the way in.

Imagine my surprise when I turned the page and found out that that is exactly what he had done. All you could see was the base of it, and it had a little black on/off switch just like the one in my possession now.

Oh yeah. I also found out about lubricants. They are recommended even for manual stimulation of a woman's labia to avoid "undue irritation." I wished I had known /about it earlier. Also the hardback books told about the use of vibrators. I really had taken in a lot of information in only a couple of hours.

By this time it was 3p and my parents would not be home until after they had gone out for dinner. They usually did that on Friday night, and I usually went with them, but since I was not supposed to be up and around, and since they really look forward to Friday night, I told them that I would be okay by myself. They said they would probably be home by 8:30p at the latest.

I continued to look at the pictures in the book showing all the variations in positions. Some of the made me laugh, others made me think that the pictures had to be some sort of hoax - some of them, anyhow. Either that or the man had to have a 14-inch penis to do it! Still, I kept coming back to the picture of the woman laying face up on the man, with the artificial cock in her pussy. By now I knew from some of the ads in the book that such a device is was called a dildo. What a funny name for something like that. Still poring over the books for more information, I cleaned off the table, washed my plate and silverware, poured another glass of coke and went back upstairs to my parents room.

Wanting to know more about all these new discoveries, I lay down on bed again, but not before I pulled off my panties. Before I dropped them on the floor I held them to my nose. The odor was quite unlike any that I had ever noticed on them before, not unpleasant, just different. I presumed it to be the natural lubricant mentioned in the book.

I had the soft rubber dildo in my hands and I was rubbing and stroking it trying to pretend it belonged to the huge guy in the picture. It was really large like his and I wondered if all men were the same. Examining it, I could see that it had what looked like veins running the length of it from its base to the mushroom-capped head. I flipped the switch on its base and it began to hum, sending waves of motion through my hand. It had a different feel from the other one I had used earlier. Getting up from my prone position, I reached down and retrieved the box from the floor. A piece of paper that had a picture of the cock on the front and directions about how to replace batteries. It even came with a one year limited warranty against defects in material and workmanship. Neato! There were no directions on how to use it, only a warning about prolonged use on sensitive tissue and membrane areas of the body. I wanted to put it inside me so bad I could hardly stand it, but there was a warning in the back of my mind that I was being bad. Laying back down with the box now beside me, I picked up the book on women's sexuality and held it with outstretched arms overhead to read it. The book sort of slipped out of my right hand and as it dropped on that one side a pamphlet of some sort fell out. I hadn't really looked at this book as much as the others and didn't notice that it had anything inside the back cover.

"FORUM," its cover declared. A woman in very skimpy lingerie was on the front with a dreamy expression on her face. She was in one of those round chairs and her head was sort of thrown back exposing her throat. Her head was covered with a generous amount of black hair that seemed to spread out around her head. I could see her nipples through the sheer white of her garment that opened in a long vee to below her waist. There seemed to be a hint of pubic hair that could be seen at the juncture of her thighs. I felt my face flush hot at I stared.

Then my eyes saw the word on the cover where the highlights of the issue were listed. DILDOS. I looked in the table of contents and found that the article was on page 43. I almost tore the cover getting there. The article as not an article but a series of long letters. There was a picture of a woman holding a different kind of dildo against her pussy but it wasn't inserted. This one was about six inches long and looked like white plastic. I think I liked this ten-inch one that looked like the real thing better. I started to read. I found that I was being turned on as both women and men talked about their experiences with dildos. One letter was about some guys who pushed them up their asses. I skipped over that quickly... how disgusting. By this time, I was holding the book in one hand while the other began to finger my private area. The more I read, the more excited I became. I was now pushing my forefinger into my slit. I was really wet by now.

It was as I read a letter from a girl named Kelly, that I let myself get into the story. She was telling how she was alone in a ski chalet, while all the others were out skiing. She had a broken leg. Now I had someone I could really identify with. I placed a sympathetic hand on my own right thigh as I continued to read. She went on about how lonely and horny she was. Horny? What's that? Anyhow, she reached into her overnight bag and pulled out a gag gift her roommate had given her for Christmas. It was a penis shaped vibrator - a dildo - and she had never used it. Ohmygod!

She told how she held it up and looked at it and rubbed. Then she put it in her mouth and sucked on the tip. Yuk! After a while she began to play with her cunny and rub the tip of it against the outside of it. I was really into the article by this time. I picked up the dildo in my free hand and began to rub it against my dark covering of pubic mound. As I continued to read, I tried to do everything she did. Then she got some KY jel and rubbed it all over the dildo. I quickly looked for the strawberry lubricant. Carefully, I opened it and squeezed some of it on my dildo. In order to continue to mimic her actions, I had to roll over on my right side and lay the book down on the bed with me looking down on it. I cocked my left leg at the knee and pulled my foot up behind my other leg. This left my crotch wide open. I could now use both hands to oil the dildo. I even put the tip in my mouth and sucked, sort of trying to catch up with Kelly. Hmmm. Not bad. Just like strawberries. I sucked on it again. As I read on, it was obvious that Kelly was sort of just as I was. Her right leg was in a cast and she was lying there with it stretched out and her other knee drawn up. I suppose she was on her back, however, since I don't think she was trying to read "FORUM."

Now with both our dildos greased, she put it at the door of her love nest - honest, that's what she called it - and began to rotate it against her pussy. As she was introducing the head of it into her pussy, I began to do a little rotating of my own. God, it was huge. But I just kept turning and turning it until it began to sink in. I now understood the word, "screw." That was literally what we were doing - screwing it in. When I thought I had completely shoved the dildo in, I looked down and was disappointed to find only about an inch and a half had made its way inside me. If I thought the small diameter doodads from the other vibrator were large, this thing was gigantic. Then Kelly, in the story, put the heel of her hand on the end of the vibrator and pressed it inward. Copying her, I did the same thing. The size of the thing made rough going and there was some discomfort, if not pain. It felt as if the walls in my pussy actually tore, then with almost no pressure, the thing sank in about three more inches. I realized that I had just "broken the cherry" that I thought I didn't have. It was deeper than I realized, or else it stretched considerably with any previous onslaught, whether bicycle, horses, or vibrator.

When my magazine heroine had it in as far as it would go, I decided I had reached my limit. She started to move it back out of her and then push it back in, I did the same, the natural upward pull of my hand, dragging the irregularly veined surface across my clit. The feeling was one of ecstasy and my breath caught in my throat. Then both of us pushed our toys back in and I slowly exhaled. There was still some pain but I was determined to do it. The girl in the letter had not mentioned turning her vibrator to the "on" position, and I had all but forgotten about it. I had mine planted about six inches deep and my small right hand was wrapped firmly around the portion still outside. My thumb rested on the base of it. Without giving it much thought, I flipped the switch with my thumb. There was about a half-seconds delay which was long enough to make me think that it wasn't going to work; and then it caught. I forgot all about Kelly and what she was doing in her letter. It felt as if my insides were being flipped inside out. Taking the initiative, I began to pump the artificial penis in and out, still gripping the end in my right palm. As my excitement began to build, I pumped faster and faster until I gave up some of the handhold, and on the next inward thrust, I went deep enough to bump something inside. It hurt like hell and I stopped moving. I was not aware that I had just banged the mouth of my cervix. It was not really as deep as I had been going, but I had evidently failed to bypass it on that one particular pass. I recovered enough to allow myself a few shallow strokes and then as I went deeper, I probed around until I found what I had hit. By raising my left leg a little more and shifting my hips, I found I was able to go past the obstruction. So I plied the tool a little deeper the next time. Now I was going much slower. The vibrations were great, but I was enjoying the pure thrusting also. I contemplated turning the vibrator off, but before I could really consider it, my pussy began its explosive contractions around the dildo as I experienced my strongest orgasm yet.

As I lay there in the warm afterglow, I smiled as I extracted my toy from the still pulsing cavity. I looked down and watched my pussy turn inside out as it clung to the soft rubber surface. My left hand traced the outline of my sexually stimulated nipples, adding to the pleasure of the moment.

My reverie was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. Flipping over on my stomach and reaching to the nightstand, I picked up the phone, "Hello."

A strained voice on the other end asked, "Shirley?" "No.

It's Cindy. Mom's with Dad." I paused as I thought I heard a sob. "Is that you aunt Kathy? Is something wrong?"

Kathy was married to my Mom's brother Malcolm. They lived somewhere in Cincinnati, Ohio where uncle Mal had a dental practice.

"Oh, Cindy. Mal's g-gone. He had a heart attack this afternoon and... and... the... the d-d-doctors ---c --c...ouldn't...." She broke down and began to sob uncontrollably.

"You mean he... died?" I asked incredulously. Why, they had just been here for Labor Day weekend. Uncle Mal had even played volleyball. I didn't need to wait for her answer.

"Oh, aunt Kathy. I'm so sorry."

"I know, Cindy. Mal thought a lot of you." She was obviously trying to regain her composure. I heard her take a long breath and say, "Can you get in touch with Shirley somehow and let her know... oh, and ask her to call."

"I can probably catch her right now, if we hang up right away."

"Okay, baby. Tell her to call me."

"I will. I love you, Aunt Kathy."

"I love you too, honey. Bye."

I immediately punched in my Dad's office number.

"Good afternoon. Anderson, Billings and Marshall. May I assist


"Mrs. Morrison? This is Cindy. Is my Dad still there?"

"Why, Cindy, I haven't seen you in months. How are you doing? Oh, I heard you had been hurt at school. Are you better now?"

"Much better, thank you," I lied. "Is he still there."

"He certainly is. Your mother just went in. Hold a sec and I'll put you through."

"Sid Marshall," my Dad's deep baritone answered.



Are you okay? Is anything wrong."

Swallowing, I began. "Dad, Aunt Kathy called... uh... it's about Uncle Mal... you see, he had a heart attack this afternoon, and died."

There was stone silence from the other end. Then I could hear my father whispering to Mom. 'Well I'll be', I heard her exclaim.

"Dad? Aunt Kathy wants Mom to call her right away."

"Okay, baby. We'll be on our way home as soon as she gets off the phone. You sure you're okay?"

"I'm okay, daddy."

"Bye, sweetheart"

I was almost overcome by an enveloping sense of loss as the reality of the moment began to sink in. Pappaw had died when I was only eight years old, but I hardly remembered him. There hadn't been a death in our family since then. Now, Uncle Mal was gone. I would never see him again... never hear his silly little jokes... never see the funny way he ate watermelon with a spoon. Tears began to roll down my cheeks.

Very carefully and dutifully, I began to put my parents' room back in order. All the books, the newly discovered toys, the DVD disc were all returned to their proper places. I straightened the bed covers and gave the room another once over. Then I went downstairs and tried to think of what I could do to help but my thigh was throbbing painfully, and I knew I shouldn't be walking around on it. Stepping very gingerly, I made my way to my bed- room and lay down on top on the bedspread. My mind raced as it wrestled with the events of the day. I just closed my eyes. When I opened them, my mother was sitting on the bed beside me. The room was dark except for the light filtering from the hallway.

Mom's cool hand was on my cheek. "How's my baby?" It wasn't so dark that I couldn't see that she had been crying.

"Still sore, I'm afraid. I thought it would be better by now."

"Now you know that Dr. Adams said that these soft tissue injuries take their own good time in healing. Have you stayed off it like he told you?" she asked with mock accusation.

"Honest, Mom. I only got up to eat lunch... and... I went upstairs and laid on your bed to watch TV."

"And what's wrong with the TV in your room?" her eyebrows were up.

Giggling, I responded, "Yours is better. Besides, my bed isn't adjustable," I added.

She laughed with me. "Want some supper? We stopped for Chinese."

My stomach lurched. "Not now. Maybe later."

"Whatever you say, but you know Daddy. He thinks he has to eat anything that doesn't go on the first pass."

"Let him. I don't care that much for Chinese anyway," but as an after thought I asked, "Are there any egg rolls?"

"Of course."

"Well, save me just one. That's all I want."

Mom patted my knee, "Whatever you say." She stood and started to walk out of the room. "Cindy, your father and I are going to have to leave tonight to drive to Ohio. Do you think you'll be alright here by yourself if we have Bob and Edna keep an eye on you and the house?"

I was surprised. "You mean I can't go with you? What will Aunt Kathy think?"

The overhead light in my room flipped on. "Aunt Kathy already knows and she understands. She knows you loved your Uncle Mal. We've thought about it and feel that you would do better to stay off the leg until you go back to the doctor. Okay?

"Okay," I tried to sound disappointed, but the truth was that even though I dearly loved Uncle Mal, I really dreaded going to his funeral. There was no doubt in my mind that the experience would be unbelievably sad.

Before she left my doorway, she said, "I'll call Bob and Edna and make sure they'll be available if you need anything. Then I'll bring your egg roll and a coke to drink?"

"Sounds good," my voice following her down the hall. I reached over the edge of my bed and picked up my Notebook and my Algebra I text and began to work on my makeup homework. Sometime during this effort, Mom brought me an egg roll and a coke which I consumed as I labored over my assignment. I had been an A-B student all the way through school - never making straight A's, but always above average. It was good enough to put me on the Honors Roll, and it seemed to please my parents.

I had heard my mother telling one of her friends how that I had never given my parents any trouble. I suppose you could say that I was a "good girl." I had never been sent to the principal's office, never received less than an A for deportment, never cut classes. It made me feel very special when she told her friend that. I never wanted to cause my parents unhappiness ever.

At about 8p that evening, my parents came in to tell me bye. Our next-door neighbors, Bob and Edna had offered to let me stay at their house, but thankfully, my parents declined the offer and told them that they would appreciate it if they could just be available in case I needed something or if there were some kind of emergency. Dad gave me three twenty dollar bills for "just in case." Then came the instructions about the electricity and the plumbing for the umpteenth time... be sure the freezer door closes, and all the usual.

"We love you, honey," came from Dad with a hug and kiss.

"We sure do." Mom gave me her hug and kiss.

"I love you too," I smiled.

Just as they started out of the room, Mom turned, "Oh, Cindy. I forgot to tell you that Truman will be here in the morning to do the lawn. Didn't want him to frighten you."

"All right, well bye then," I answered. Then they were gone. I felt a strange sense in being alone when I realized that this was the first time that I had been away from them overnight all alone.

I glanced at the clock. 8:15p. The game! I had forgotten about the school's game. It had already started. I turned on the radio and tuned in the local station that carried our games. We were ahead in the first quarter 7-0. Yeah TEAM! When I finally drifted off to sleep sometime after 9p. The last score I remembered was 27-6.

The next sound I heard was that of a loud thump as if something had hit the house. I jumped out of bed and almost fell on my face when the pain coursed through my still tender thigh. Limping, I made my way to the window. I didn't see anything but I could hear something. It was a lawnmower.

The sound of the mower made me glance at the clock on my radio. It was 7:30a in the morning. I knew right away that it must be Truman, the neighborhood boy who mowed our lawn on a regular basis. Looking out the window, I caught a glimpse of him as he walked briskly behind the roaring machine. I could see that he was dressed only in swimming trunks, t-shirt and tennis shoes. He seemed to enjoy his work in the warm early morning October sun. It wasn't odd for folks in this part of the country to have to cut grass right on up until Thanksgiving. Indian Summer had a lot of staying power in Jackson. I hobbled down to my regular bathroom and took off my panties and t-shirt. I couldn't believe I had slept in the same outfit I had worn all day the day before. Then very carefully, I removed the bandage from my thigh while I let the shower water warm up. With a definite goal in mind, I took a leisurely shower and washed my short Bobcut hairstyle. Not in any particular hurry, I turned off the shower, closed the drain to let the tub begin to fill. Mom always kept some of her own bath salts, bubble bath and oils in this bathroom because the master bath only had a shower. She enjoyed a long soak every now and then, herself.

I poured a little of the best smelling bubble bath and matching bath oil in the water under the streaming faucet. Huge billowing bubbles began to be formed as the water worked on the ingredients I had poured in. The feeling as I slid into the warm bath was wonderful. The heat felt good on my injury and I was enjoying my idea of luxury. As I bathed, I imagined myself as a gorgeous model doing a soap commercial. I posed and turned until my breasts showed above the bubbles. I squealed as if embarrassed and slid all the way under the water.

When my game was finished, I meticulously washed every square inch of my body. I felt that I must be ultra clean. I washed my hair again and used Mom's most expensive cream rinse. The bath oil made my skin as soft as a baby's butt. I must have been in the bathtub for at least an hour. My fingers were all wrinkled, but I knew that would pass. I let the water drain, then used the shower head to wash away the residue of soap and bubbles, cleaning the tub as I went. Then I dried myself on the big soft beach towel making sure I left no wet spots even between my toes. Standing clean, dry and naked before the mirror, I used my blow dryer as I brushed out my hair. When I was finished, I appraised my reflection in the mirror. I remarked, "Not bad."

Limping to my bedroom, I put on some panties. Today, instead of cotton, however, I donned my best lacey nylon bikini panties. The bra I picked was the one my Mom called "impractical." It was also very lacey, low cut and it fastened in front. I talked her into it for a formal occasion. We had to arrive on a compromise between a "low cut" or a "strapless" evening gown. Mom won on the "low cut," so I got the bra.

The lawnmower was silent, so I assumed that Truman had finished that part of the chore. Just as the thought ran though my head, I hear the gas-powered weed eater start. It was now 10a. Sneaking a peek out my window, I could see him using the weed machine as an edger as he worked along the border of our patio. Truman had removed his t-shirt and was now bare-chested. There was a sheen of perspiration on his well-tanned upper body. His legs had a lot of hair on the thighs, but his chest seemed void of any such growth.

By the time my nails were completely dry, it was 10:30a. I heard the banging of the garbage cans as Truman pulled them to the backyard for the clippings. I had timed it just about right. I'm not sure for what but for some reason I wanted to be friendly (in a nice girl way) with Truman. I slipped a knee length pink dress over my head. It was nothing special. It had buttons running down the front to the waist and the skirt portion was pleated all around. Mom said it "flounced," whatever that means. I left the top three buttons open so that a little lace would show. If I had had more in the breast department, I suppose there would have been a little cleavage too.

Rarely do I wear makeup even at school, but I quickly used a pink lip gloss and gave my eyelashes a swipe with some mascara. No eye shadow or liner. I couldn't resist just a touch of blush, however, as I applied the brush softly to emphasize my cheekbones. Giving myself a nod of approval from the mirror, I started toward the patio door. I had been right. Truman had finished the front and was now just about through with the back. Next week he would have to be raking leaves, but that day the autumn colors were at their peak. When the mower died, I slid the patio door open. "How about some lemonade when you're through."

Truman seemed startled, "Oh. Hi, Cindy. I thought I would get an early start. I wanted to get it done before the temperature got too hot today."

"I would have come out to help but... my leg, you know." I offered.

"Oh yeah. Sue told me about it. How's it doing?"

"I'm supposed to stay off it for a while, but I'm getting pretty bored with it. Want to come in?"

"Sure. Just give me a minute to put things away and get my shirt. Lemonade sure sounds good."

I turned and went to the refrigerator and frantically looked for some lemons. There were two very old looking ones that were a little shriveled. I grabbed them and the bottle of Realemon. Reading the instructions for lemonade on the Realemon bottle, I moved as fast as I could... cold water... sugar... slice the lemons... ice... glasses.

"Now where's that lemonade." I caught my breath as I turned, tray with pitcher and glasses in hand and limped to the table in the center of the dining area. Truman had his t-shirt on now, but was bare-footed, evidently so he wouldn't track grass in the house. He pulled out a chair and plopped down as I poured. For the first time, I noticed how sweaty he was from his outdoor exertion. I also noticed how cute he was. Truman was my best friend Sue's brother. They had lived next door for about three years. Sue was on the cheering squad with me, but Truman was 18 and a senior in high school.

Sitting across the table from each other, we sipped our lemonades in silence. He sort of glanced around the room as I looked at him. When I would look away, his eyes would be on me when I looked back; then he would look around the room some more.

Finally, "Sorry to hear about your uncle. Mom and Dad told me."

"Yeah, it was a real shock."

"My parents talked to yours last night, so if you need anything, just let us know.

"I really appreciate it," I sort of sighed, feeling very self-conscious and a little uncomfortable.

"So, how's the leg?" he asked just to make conversation.

"It's still awfully sore and I have to wear this awful bandage," I replied as I slid my chair around to my right to show him the bandage. It wasn't until I had pulled my dress up to the top of my right thigh that I remembered that I hadn't put the ace back on. I just sat there looking at my bare thigh and so did Truman. My first thought was that I should have at least put on a pair of hose. Color rose in my face and I pushed the dress back down. When I looked up, Truman was red too.

"Anyhow, I'm supposed to wear the stupid thing. I-I guess I forgot to put it back on." Oh how I wanted to die right then and there. It was at that thought and at that very moment, I realized that I was thinking of Truman as a sexual being. I knew that I wanted to either seduce or be seduced. Oh, it wasn't as sophisticated as all that, but that was the underlying motive of me getting dressed and inviting him in even if it was only in my subconscious up until now.

"Sue said you fell from a pyramid and that your leg was pinned back by someone falling over you."

"I guess that's the way it happened. At least it seemed that way," I replied, trying to restore my composure.

"I had the same thing happen to me in football last season. That's why I'm not playing this year. I have to wear a bandage in basketball still."

"Yeah, I wondered why you weren't on the team this year," I commented. "Oh, did we win last night?"

"Nah. They beat us 28-27 in the last quarter. We had 'em 27-6 in the third. They missed an extra point in the second period. Then in the fourth, it all fell apart. Rodney Gooding sprained an ankle as the quarter opened and we were essentially without a quarterback. Then Gus Martin was ejected for fighting. Next thing we knew, Central was in the endzone and had a two-point conversion. Bert Beasley fumbled the next kick-off and Central scored on the next play from scrimmage. They faked a kick and passed for the two points. That made the score 27-21. We marched down the field and Beasley got into the endzone on a fantastic screen pass and go. It was called back for an ineligible man downfield. With two minutes left, we had fourth down and three on their 12-yard line so we attempted an easy field goal. The snap was bobbled and Mike Forntney, instead of covering the ball, tried to pass to the endzone. Central intercepted and ran it back 100 yards for the touchdown. Then their kicker who missed his first attempt in the first quarter, put it away with an extra point 28-27.

I didn't understand a word he said. I was a cheerleader, but all I knew about football was that one team has the ball and the other team tries to take it away before the first team scores. But I sat there wide-eyed, taking it all in, pretending to know what he was talking about nodding in agreement. When he finished, we were back to the awkward silence that had ruled only minutes before.

Trying to change the subject, "So how is your leg getting along?" Somehow the question wasn't worded right and I felt sort of stupid.

"Coach gave me some good exercises for it, though. And I went in to the gym for some special treatments that seemed to help," he added.

"Really? What kind of treatments?" I asked, genuinely interested.

"Theraputic massage mostly. They did a few sessions for me and then taught me how to give them to myself since it was on my thigh," Truman explained.

Caught up by the prospect of an early return to the squad, I asked, "Do you think you could teach me?"

"Uh... yeah, I guess so," he said haltingly. Honest, up to this time, until his reaction, my thoughts had been purely therapeutic. Only now did I feel a stirring of butterflies in the pit of my stomach. I know now that he was aware of the eroticism of the moment.

Not knowing what else to do at that point I softly asked, "Where should we do it?"

"The couch in the living room?" I thought for a moment. "No, lets go to the couch in the rec room downstairs." The excuse in my mind was definitely that the rec room would be more intimate. How wicked I had become after just one short day.

In the basement he suggested that I sit on the couch as he pulled up an ottoman. Sitting on the ottoman, he reached for my right foot as I lifted it to lay on his left knee. My bottom was lower than my leg, so I had to push my dress between my thighs to keep him from seeing my panties. Truman scooted the ottoman forward so that my right leg draped over his left one, my foot now hanging toward the floor. His movement placed his right knee between my legs pointed directly at my crotch.

He put both his hands on my right thigh about 3 or 4 inches above my knee on the outside of my dress and began to squeeze gently. I squinted my eyes with the pain.

"Hurt?" he asked

"A little," I responded. He kept up the massaging motion running both hands up and down my thigh. He would let the one on the outside of my leg move higher than the inside hand, always stopping well below my crotch. I could see him swallow to hide his nervousness. The bottom of his shirt was hanging low enough to cover his bathing trunks, so I could not see his crotch.

"This would work a little better on your bare skin," his voice cracked.

"Okay!" My simple reply was followed by me carefully baring my thigh up to the hem of my panties. But no panty showed. I was careful of that.

When his hand returned to my thigh on my bare skin, I was surprised at the heat I felt. Not only were his hands very warm, but the warmth sort of passed through my body as the butterflies took flight and rose within me. The gentle hands just kept up their ministrations to me. As I glanced up at him, I found him looking straight into my eyes which I quickly averted to watch his attention to my thigh again.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" I blurted. Oh my God, how dumb dumb dumb! Of course he has a girlfriend - Heidi, the head majorette. What a fool I must have looked like.

He didn't seem phased. "Well, sort of. Heidi Schanz and I have been dating sort of steady like. Nothing serious I suppose. How about you?"


"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Uh," I thought about lying, but thought better of it, "No."

He smiled as he massaged, "You mean a pretty girl like yourself doesn't have a boyfriend?"

Boy, was I ever slain. If his smile had been flame, I would have been butter. "Do you really think I'm pretty?" I asked, blushing.

What happened then startled me so bad that I almost lost it. His face was getting closer and closer to mine and he was standing to turn to sit on the couch. I tried to lean away from him, but my back was against the arm of the sofa. Before I knew it, his mouth was on mine and he was kissing me. The major problem was that as he stood and turned, I turned with him so that I had my injured right leg behind him, between his body and the back of the couch, and my left foot was still on the floor.

So there I was, lip to lip with Truman, and I didn't even know how to kiss. Oh, I knew how to use a dildo and a vibrator with various attachments and such things as that, but I didn't know how to kiss. I just sat there with my lips pressed against his. Then, gentleman that he was, he shifted so that I could turn to sit properly on the couch with my legs together. Both of us were breathing a little hard.

"I'm sorry, Cindy. I shouldn't have done that."

"Why not?" I asked, disappointed that it had ended so quickly. I was worried that I hadn't done it right.

"For God's sake, you're just a kid." That cut me to the quick.

I put a hand on each hip and let him know in no uncertain terms, "I'm thirteen now, so don't call me a kid."

"I didn't mean to offend you. It's just that you're so... tiny, and I'm... I'm... well, I'm so... forget it. I'm sorry I called you a kid." Then he was just staring at me again. Not my eyes, but just at me, in general.

I let my eyes followed his gaze. Looking down at my body, I noticed that a fourth button had popped loose and the tops of my breasts were now plainly visible. My fingers came up and quickly buttoned the guilty fastener. "Are you sorry you kissed me... I mean really... sorry." I searched his eyes.

"If you mean did I like kissing you, then no, I'm not sorry. I said I was sorry because of the difference in our ages."

I could feel my eyes cloud as I looked up from lowered eyelids and restated through almost clenched teeth, "I'm not a kid."

Truman's expression softened as he whispered, "No, I guess you're not a kid." He sighed and pulled me to him again. This time he had both arms around me and when he kissed I just went limp. I noticed that his kisses were not exactly what one could call "dry," so I surmised that his mouth was open. I opened mine. When I did, his tongue went straight between my teeth. I was appalled, so I pushed his tongue away with mine. The surprise was compounded when he literally sucked my tongue from my mouth into his. About that time I decided that it wasn't so bad after all.

Up until then, I wasn't sure where all this was going. It sure was enjoyable, but I still could feel something on the inside ringing an alarm. I kept seeing pictures in my mind of the people in the magazine doing things with their bodies that intrigued me. I had a flash of the couple in the DVD movie that had been playing. I thought about the vibrator, the dildo and then I could see a picture of Truman and me naked under the sheet with him making that move to put it in. What brought me back to reality was his hand pushing my bra cup off my right breast. Not resisting what happened in any way, I closed my eyes and savored it, feeling my whole world go topsy-turvy. I felt I was on a high speed turntable and had to open my eyes to make sure we weren't actually moving. This is wrong, a voice in my head spoke. I brought my left hand up and took hold of Truman's wrist. Pulling downward to remove his hand, I discovered that his fingers were hooked over to top of the lacy cup so that all I accomplished was the baring of one breast. Just as I was about to speak to tell him to stop, his hand abandoned my breast, and was just as quickly replaced by his open mouth. The hot wet feeling as he opened wide enough to take the whole of it into his mouth was overwhelming. I was melting all over again. My whole frame went suddenly limp in his arms. Each of us knew that I was his to do with as he pleased. At thirteen, I just couldn't call up enough resolve to fight it. It just felt so good.

Half expecting him to push me into a prone position, I was surprised when Truman shifted so that both of his feet were flat on the floor, his left side against my right. He slipped his right hand under my right thigh and shifted it so it draped across his left leg. My left foot was flat on the floor so that in this position my knees were almost a foot apart. I felt his right hand slip under my dress and move up along my injured thigh, giving it a gentle massage. It hurt when he squeezed, but yet, it didn't hurt. Each time he reached the top of my thigh, he paused and squeezed, his thumb on the outside of my thigh, his fingers at the edge of the crotch of my panties.

Truman leaned into me and pressed me back against the cushioned arm of the couch, his lips once more seeking mine. Then both of his hands were opening the rest of the buttons to my waist. I heard him "Hmmmm," as he discovered the front clasp of my bra. Gently opening it, he proceeded to push it away until it was sort of stuffed under my arms.

Once again he was lip to lip with me, his tongue swapping visits with mine, each of his hands on one of my breasts. My nipples were still "little-girl" tiny, but he brought them to erection, pulling and twirling them between his thumbs and forefingers. I had sucked in my breath and held it there so many times that I was starting to get dizzy, but I thought it was love.

With his left hand on my right breast, his mouth left mine and bent to the task of my left breast. I brought both my hands up. One to press his head to my breast and the other to assist his left hand. I was sure I knew what was coming next. He was going to "go all the way" with me, but I didn't know when or how Truman would accomplish it. I still had the very erotic picture of us naked in bed under the sheets running through my brain.

I was wrong, but what happened was so natural that it caught me totally off guard. My right leg was bent at the knee draped over his left leg. My thigh rested directly atop his. The hair on his leg tickled the underside of my smooth thighs. Although I had a generous amount of pubic hair for a thirteen-year old, my legs were covered only by a very light downy softness that did not yet call for shaving, or any other depilatory for that matter.

So Truman merely let his now free right hand lay lightly along the inside of my right knee and he just slipped it along the smoothness of my inner thigh until he laid his palm flat on my crotch. I was so startled by this turn of events that I sort of jumped. Then he began a gentle stroking of that area by rubbing his fingers from the bottom of my pussy to the top.

Since I was wearing bikini briefs, he was not hindered by the waist- line of my dress. After about 15 or 20 strokes from bottom to top and top to bottom, he had worked up far enough that on a return trip to the bottom, his whole hand slid smoothly inside the waistband and his fingers were stroking my hairy mound. This time he stayed at the bottom, not rising again.

I wanted to raise my bottom off the couch and remove the panties, but I feared that he would judge me to be some kind of "slut". I mean, I was ready to be screwed right then and there. Truman did not seem disturbed by my panties, he just continued to stroke the hair over my slit very lightly while his mouth claimed mine again.

While we kissed, I felt a finger separate my pussy lips. The attempt at entry was very gentle and the feeling was unbelievably erotic. I went totally limp again and my arms felt so weak that my hands fell to my lap. Actually, we were so close that my right hand fell in Truman's lap. That's when I discovered that his own sex organ was not dormant. I started to pull away but he stopped kissing long enough to whisper, "It's okay," while his left hand pressed my hand palm down over the enormous bulge in his swim trunks.

I just let my hand lay there at first, but Truman quickly returned to his kissing and feeling. A finger very pleasantly insinuated itself between the folds of my pussy and began stroking the moisture that had begun to accumulate. At the same time that I felt the finger sink slowly into my body until it was buried to the knuckle, Truman sucked my tongue into his mouth and twisted my left nipple. I let my hand squeeze his sex. As the finger eased inward until it was palm deep, I began to stroke the material of his swimsuit. I felt it throb under my touch.

The finger inside me began to withdraw and I hunched my hips forward to stop its escape, but to no avail. I thought he was stopping so that we could get on with the real thing. Actually, he knew exactly what he was doing. I could feel something larger going in and then I felt his thumb and forefinger feeling in the top of my slit for the little nub I had discovered earlier. Evidently he had two fingers in my pussy as he began to do the same thing to my clit that he had done with my nipples. My hips began an involuntary rocking motion which, to my delight could regulate both the pressure on my clit and the depth of his fingers in my pussy. My hand also increase the pressure of its rubbing on the outside of his garment. Both of us were breathing rather rapidly and loudly by now.

Just when I began to wish for my vibrator so that I could have another "organism" I uttered something like, "Uuhhnngg," as my private world exploded around me once more in a kaleidoscope of color and delight. I moaned out my newest release into his mouth and I could feel my pussy throbbing itself around his digits. I seemed to last much longer this time in comparison to the other times. It seemed better just because Truman was the one doing it. I put both my arms around his neck and hugged him to me. It was as if I wanted to take his whole body into myself and become one with him. I've never had that same feeling about anyone since that time. I just closed my eyes and luxuriated in the feelings that were bathing me.

As the feelings subsided, I opened my eyes and found Truman looking at me as if I were someone he had just seen in a different light. "Gosh, Cindy, you're something else."

Not knowing what to say, innocently (if that's possible) I asked, "Are we going to do it now?"

Truman looked puzzled. "Do what?" I looked for the words.

"You know," quickly discarding screw and fuck, then settling on, "go all the way."

"My god, Cindy. Are you crazy? Do you want to get pregnant?" He seemed aghast. "Besides, you couldn't even begin to..." he trailed off.

I thought he hated me. I began to cry and tried to say, "I couldn't what!? Of course not - to you I'm just a little baby!" I blurted out.

"Cindy, you haven't scr... uh... gone all the way with some other guy, have you?" Truman asked.

"N-no!" I answered still crying, "and I never let anyone d-do those o-other th-things that y-you j-just d-d-did." I didn't think it proper to tell him about my electronic friends.

His arms went around me and he let me cry against him until it finally subsided. "Cindy, I want to make love to you, but it wouldn't be right. I'm afraid that what we've done here tonight could have a bad effect on you because of your age." He paused as he looked down into my upturned face. "But I'm not going to say I'm sorry, because I'm not."

I know I smiled when he said that. and then he kissed me again... very softly, very slowly and much too sweetly. When he looked at me again he asked, "You had an orgasm, didn't you?"

His question shocked me, "Orgasm? Oh yes. Yes, I had an... uh... orgasm." Not knowing what to say, I went further, "Did you have one?"

"Well, no. At least not this time." Truman's face turned beet red.

"Didn't I do it right?" I didn't know what "right" would be anyway.

"Well, not exactly, but don't worry about it," he responded. "No,"

I blurted, "I want to do it right. Show me." I know I sounded a little imperious, and to prove it, I reached for the waist band of his trunks.

His hands stopped mine, but I looked up at him and saw his resolve (if he really had any) weaken. "Okay, Cindy, if you're sure."

"I'm sure. After all, you did it for me. It's only fair, isn't it?" I know I rolled my eyes at him when I said that. Since that time and over the years, I've been left wondering if I fell more into his plan than he did into mine.

That's all it took. Truman stood up and stripped of his bathing suit and I just stared, mesmerized by his absolutely gigantic sex organ. I was surprised that it was just hanging there like a huge, heavy salami. It appeared to be about a foot long, semi-hard, and had a bushy nest of pubic hair that encircled the base of it and ran down to cover his sack. He also had an extremely long foreskin that covered his entire cockhead, which I had not noticed while looking at the photos in the books. It looked much larger than when I touched it through his clothes. Probably because of its sheer thickness. My god, it was thicker than my upper arm! I was not an expert on the male arousal process and didn't know it was about to grow. I could have sworn that it raised its head slightly even as I looked at it. A churning feeling ran through my stomach as I remembered pictures in the magazine showing women sucking on these things. I wasn't sure what I had gotten myself into, but I was determined that Truman would have an orgasm. Besides, I'd never seen an orgasm before.

Truman sat down beside me and stretched his legs out on the ottoman. Then he leaned forward and pulled his t-shirt over his head so that he sat there totally naked beside me.

Nervously I asked, "Okay, what do I do first?"

Truman licked his lips. He was nervous too. "Just take it in your hand like so." He wrapped his right palm around the length of it, then removed his hand. His prick was so thick that even his hand couldn't fully clasp its girth! I reached over with my right hand and wrapped my fist around it just like he showed me. My little hand look like I was trying to hold onto a large tree trunk. "Now, with you hand around it, just move your fist up and down on it."

It had grown visibly since I first laid eyes in it. The head of it took on a similar appearance to the one on the artificial penis, only Truman's had a long foreskin. I peeled it back several inches, only to reveal just his cocktip - it was like unwrapping a present! His immense penis jerked in my hand and I looked up at him unknowingly. He took my other hand and placed it on his big prickshaft and just looked back at me, saying: "Here, you better use both hands. Like that. Just keep going."

I had thought that the spasm I had felt was his orgasm, but I had been wrong. So I continued to stroke up and down his shaft. I noticed that the head of his penis was getting a darker reddish purple, the more I pumped on it. Truman drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, groaning slightly. This caused me to slow down again, but he nodded for me to keep going. My arm was getting tired, so I slowed my hands. His hips began to pump just like mine had on his fingers. Soon my arm and wrist was tired.

"When do I put it in my mouth," I asked bravely. An anguished look came over Truman's face and he stuttered for a few seconds and sort of muttered, "Oh, just anytime now."

"Is now a good time?" I asked impatiently, yet fearful of the experience. I knew I would throw up. But I guess I had sort of promised him.

He coughed and cleared his throat, "Uh... yeah. Now." Bending over his lap, I closed my eyes and guided the end of his cock into my mouth. Since I had never tasted anything like whatever it tasted like, I did not know how to describe it. It was actually sweet, but other than that I didn't know that the rest of it was a neutral taste. Well, I'd never tasted precum before, since that's what it was. "Lick it." he said, or rather groaned. So I did. I'd never licked one before, so I swathed this one good. I got his huge prick coated with lots of my saliva and soon there was not much taste at all. I did notice, however that the thing was much larger now. It was at least ten or eleven inches long, but was as big in diameter as his upper wrist - ohmygod it was huge! I needed both hands and I still couldn't reach around his incredible thickness. The more I jacked that big cock into my mouth the more precum I swallowed that steadily oozed from his long foreskin, still covering his immense cockhead.

"Now suck it while you use your hand," he moaned again. So I sucked it, and as I sucked, I let my hand continue pumping up and down. The reason I kept pumping was that he didn't tell me to stop. His body seemed to flutter in the midst of all I was doing and suddenly the penis jerked in a spasm and simultaneously I had a mouthful of liquid. My hand also felt his penis flex accompanied by a suitable moan from Truman. Before I could react, the was another distinct throb and my mouth was even fuller so that in order not to choke, I had to swallow. I jerked my head away, the stuff running out of my mouth onto my chest and down to my dress when his member jerked again and a glob of the liquid hit me in face.

"No don't quit," Truman said as his hand wrapped around mine and continued to pump it up and down the length of this rod that had suddenly taken on a life of its own as it kept on jerking and spitting rope after rope of cum on me. He came almost twenty full spurts all over my face, hair, and breasts and it was ucky!

By the time it had stopped, my hands were covered with a white looking liquid that had also soaked my face, tits, the front of my dress, not to mention a good portion of it inside my mouth. Truman was in no condition to help just now. He just sort of leaned back and collapsed. I was furious.

"What is this stuff? Why did you keep squirting it so long? Get it off!"

Truman looked surprised, "That's my cum," he said as if he were surprised that I hadn't known that all along. Then he saw my confusion and consternation and reached behind me for a box of Kleenex on the end table. I started to calm down as he very meticulously began to wipe all of it away. First he cleaned my hands, then my face. I don't know what happened to the stuff in my mouth. I suppose that some ran out and that I swallowed the rest. Then he wiped what he could off my dress. By the time he was cleaning the dab that went on my chest, I was giggling and so was Truman.

"So that's how boys orgasm?" I laughed.

"That's it."

"Well it's not fair," I said still laughing. "What can we girls do to you guys to get back at you?"

Truman quit laughing, "Drive us crazy." We looked at each other for a few moments, aware that we had shared in something, although forbidden to us, also very special. His arms went around me and he held me close very tightly for a long time.

I looked at the clock. It was nearly 2:30p. I couldn't believe that it had been three hours since I had invited Truman in. I leaned down and began to clean his dwindling, but still extremely large penis. It was not much smaller than it was when I first saw it!

"I better be going," he said at last.

A little apprehensive, I asked, "Will you be back?"

"You know I'll be back."

"Why," I asked, suppressing a smile.

"You're MY little girl now. That's why."

"What about Heidi?" His forehead wrinkled, "Heidi who?" My laughter fairly tinkled like little bells as I threw myself in his arms and we kissed once more. "Can't you stay just a little longer? I'm all alone here all day with nobody to even talk to." I tried to sound just a little pitiful.

"Okay, but only if you feed me some lunch. I'm starved."

"It's a deal," I said as I stood. I'll have to put on some other clothes. Are you going to wear your trunks and t-shirt?"

"I better," he laughed, "I can't go around like this." He began to dress as I went upstairs to find another dress. When I came back down, Truman was looking in the refrigerator. When he turned, he let out a low whistle. I'm not sure why I did it, but instead of putting on something sensible, I stood there before him wearing only a long t-shirt that barely covered my bikini panties. It couldn't escape his notice that I was no longer wearing a bra either.

Mimicking the movies, "I thought I would slip into something a little more comfortable," I said in my most sultry voice and then giggled.

Truman got a very serious look in his eyes as he walked toward me. At first I thought he was angry, but when he kissed me I knew he had been pushed to his limit. I didn't know anything about "teases" and will power. I was just wanting to be grown up, now that I had discovered sex. What I didn't know was that neither of us were really "grown up." We just thought we were. So right there in the middle of the kitchen, his hands were all over me again and before I knew it, he was carrying me into my bedroom.

"Cindy, I don't have any protection to keep you from getting pregnant, but I'm going to show you something that my uncle told me about. He said if he knew at my age what he knows now, he could have driven any girl in school crazy." Then looking my in the eyes, he added sensually, "I'm going to try it out on you."

I didn't know what Truman was talking about except "going all the way," but it sounded exciting. He stood me beside my bed and took my t-shirt by its bottom hem and pulled it up so that my arms raised with it until it was gone. Almost reflexively, I crossed my arms in front of my breasts, then dropped them to permit his eyes to savor their full, rounded shape.

I felt a shiver of delight run through me when Truman said, "My god... you're beautiful." He hooked his thumbs in the waist of my panties and pulled them down my legs to my knees. I raised each foot, first the left, then the right, to leave the garment in a heap at my feet.

Truman discarded his shirt, but kept his trunks on. He pulled me close and bent down to kiss me, then guiding me backwards laid me across the bed. Somehow, I felt that we should be under a sheet, but it really didn't seem all that important. When Truman stretched out on the bed beside me, I began to feel a little scared about what was happening.

In a little girl voice, I asked, "Truman, what are you going to do to me? It won't hurt will it?"

He smiled. "I'm going to make you crazy."

My eyes widened. "Come on. What are you really going to do."

"I already told you," he answered as he came closer, "and I promise it won't hurt, not even a little bit." His mouth covered mine.

My arms went around his neck as his hands began to explore my body. Truman's right hand was stroking up and down the outer part of my left thigh. I raised the knee to give him access to my pussy, but he did not seem to notice my offer. Instead he let his kiss trail off my mouth until his face was buried at the base of my throat. This was a new sensation as he let his tongue lick and probe in the tender junction of my neck and shoulder. He shifted his body so that his left hand could work on my right breast. His tongue began to lick wetly from my neck around to my ear his tongue dug deeply there. I felt goose bumps raise up on my my arms and breasts. These sensations were definitely new and my body began to squirm in response. I closed my eyes and was horrified at the picture that came to my mind of Truman doing this to Heidi Schanz. My body stiffened, but for just a moment as the tongue bath continued. I wasn't sure what he wanted when he put a hand under me and tried to roll me over, but I relaxed and allowed my body to be turned so that I was laying face down. Truman's breath was warm on the back of my neck as he began to kiss be there, the kisses turning to playful nips with his teeth. He lifted me so his left hand could slide between my body and the bed to cup my left breast. As his kisses and licks left my neck to continue downward to my shoulders, his right hand began to stroke my rounded ass. Even I knew that I had what guys call a "nice ass." I remember when my breasts were an early disappointment, that my Mom patted my bottom and said, "Honey, I know women who would kill for a tush like yours." I was pleased, but even more so when I finally filled out in the chest department. Of course, I still had a little way to go. I would have been extremely happy to know then that I would even increase in stature by more than two inches, as well as, go from an A cup to a full D-cup!

The hand on my ass moved downward to stroke the back of my left thigh, then it slipped to the inside of my left knee and pulled my legs apart. When I had been turned over, I had allowed them to close. Shifting my body a little, I moved my legs even further apart so there was a little more than a foot of distance between my knees. The hand came back up to my ass and squeezed each cheek separately while the mouth continued to roam over my back. I wouldn't have wanted Truman to know, but this had turned into more of a massage than any kind of so-called lovemaking. That's what I was thinking right up until the hand on my ass, made a detour to my pubic area. I must have been soaking wet down there because, I felt a finger make a single backstroke along my slit and it was buried inside me. Before I could even let out a suitable moan, It was withdrawn and replaced by two fingers. The two fingers left and I could tell that his thumb was now my slit's sole occupant. Truman let it stroke in and out as his kisses began to dance lightly across my tight rounded ass. He was not touching my clit, but it was still powerfully stimulating.

The thumb eased its way out and the two fingers went in as relief. My body reacted next to the thumb tip placed directly at the opening of my ass. I felt the thumb press inward, but I tightened my hole and whispered, "No, Truman, not there." The thumb was gone instantly.

My body was set in motion again as the left hand under my left breast lifted and caused me to turn on my back again. Truman tried again to swallow one of my tits whole and as he did so, I felt the thumb at my pussy again. Going in from the front with his thumb brought a second finger's knuckle across my clit with each thrust. I felt myself climbing toward a release once more. But it wasn't to be. As the thumb withdrew, I actually moaned in disappointment and uttered, "Please, Truman."

Truman paid no attention to me, but rather began a trail of licks and kisses down from my breasts to my belly. He paused briefly to lick and suck at my "insy" navel. I wasn't too pleased with it because stimulation of any kind to my navel had always caused me to feel a little nauseous... sort of seasick, but somehow this was different and I survived.

Next he licked a line down my belly from my navel to the top of my pubic bush. I was a little alarmed when he pulled at my hair with his lips. A great relief came over me as he bypassed that area and began to kiss and lick my thighs. I felt just a twinge of pain in my right thigh as he turned my thighs so that they splayed outward and lay flat on the bed. The kisses here were like tiny flames and I shuddered with pleasure at each of them.

My wish was, however, that Truman get back to fingering or thumbing my pussy. That was the best part.

I felt my lower torso being shifted as, Truman lay face down between my legs. He worked his arms under my thighs and had me lay them across his shoulders. What was he doing? Then I felt his thumbs as they were evidently working to get back in. I sort of shifted my bottom a little to lend some assistance to the effort. The thumbs very plainly peeled me open. The next thing I knew, Truman's nose was buried in my slit. I tried to pull away, but my legs over his shoulders would find no leverage for the maneuver. I cried, "No, Truman. That's nasty... Ahhh... Ooohhh... hunnnhh... Ohhhhh," and his tongue was pushing deep into my pussy. Somehow, when he sucked my clit between his lips, I knew that this was the most natural thing ever. It was just like what I had done to him. Both my hands found his head and pushed his face tighter to my sex. His tongue never stopped whipping and dancing up and down, in and out, and side to side. Then he would pause to suck at my clit again. I wasn't sure how he did what he did next, but I felt fingers entler my pussy and begin to wiggle and thrust. Then, I'm sure he trapped by clit between his lips and began to rapidly stroke his tongue back and forth across it. I bit the back of my hand to keep from screaming.

I realized that he had perhaps two fingers of his right hand and the thumb of his left hand inside me. It was extremely close quarters there and was stretching me a good deal more than my big dildo had. then the thumb was gone. This time when it brushed against my asscheeks, I was too occupied with the sensations that were running through me and Truman became a liar.

Even though the thumb was covered by my lubricant, it hurt like hell when he slid it past my sphincter. But I didn't care, because at that moment, the most intense orgasm I had felt to this point slammed into me like a freight train. My hips came off the bed hunching wildly at his face. My hands, one on the back of his head, the other at my mouth were fluttering almost uselessly. My eyes rolled back and my toes curled downward. I remember saying things through my heaving breaths like, "Yes, Oh, Truman. Ohgodyes!" and every now and then I yelled out a "Mmnnnnn... nnnnngggg... ohhhhgod...," and such as that.

As the throes of release began to fade, Truman continued to lick as I just stroked his head. The hand over my mouth was now in repose across my eyes to shut out the light which seemed to have become somehow too intense to look at. The thumb was the first to go. My backdoor hole sort of assisted in expelling it. Next he lifted his head to look up over my body to my flushed face. I could hear his fingers being removed from my squishy wet pussy.

"Like it?" Truman asked.

"God, I LOVE it!" I laughed.

Truman crawled across my naked body until he could lie down beside me. I lifted my head so he could slide his arm under it. He was on his back, so I turned onto my right side and began to rub his chest. He was just staring at the ceiling. I was amazed when his nipples stood up as I let my fingernails trace over them. "I didn't know that boys did that, too," I giggled.

"I don't think you know much about boys at all," he answered.

"But I'm learning, aren't I?" Truman just looked at me and smiled.

After a few seconds of thought, he commented, "You're not a kid."

"Truman, what about you - do I need to do you again?"

He laughed. "Not hardly. But I am going to need a change of clothes."

"Why? What happened?" I asked, concerned.

"It seems that in all the excitement, my horse was in such a tight barn, that he went off all by himself."

I had to think about it for a little while, but when I caught on, I put both hands over my mouth to suppress my giggles, "You mean?..."

"Yep." When I had recovered from that round, I began to think a little more seriously. I was afraid to ask him, but I needed to know.

"Truman, please promise not to get mad, but I want to know something. If you don't want to tell my, it'll be okay"

"Sure, what is it?"

I didn't know quite how to phrase it, but I went on anyway. "How do you know all this stuff... I mean, you know, about girls, and all... about sex and how to do it?" Before he could answer, I went on, "You talked about being safe... what I did to you in the rec room... and..." I blushed, "what you just did to me. How do you know about all that?" I could tell the question disturbed him, and I sort of wished that I hadn't asked. It was as if I has spoiled everything.

"If I lied to you, you would know it's a lie," he started. "I've done some of these things with Heidi. We've been dating since we were sophomores. By the time we were juniors, we were into pretty heavy petting. One thing just led to another until we had experimented with just about everything there was to do. I mean, it was mostly just feeling and touching along with lots of kissing." He stopped and looked at the ceiling again. "Everything that I did to you down in the rec room, I've done with Heidi. What I did to you here was the very first time I've done that. I got it from my uncle and a book he gave me."

I was pleased that he'd never "gone down on" Heidi, but was a bit jealous of all the other. "Did she do what I did to you in the rec room?"


There was more but I wasn't sure. I decided to be direct: "Truman, did you and Heidi ever... um... go all the way?" It was as if I could hear the ring of the hammer on the nail when he turned his head to look at me.

"Once," he replied, "just once, this past summer... just once."

"What happened?" I asked.

"What do you mean 'what happened'?" he asked looking puzzled.

He misunderstood my question. Truman thought I wanted a blow by blow description of what they did. "I mean, why did you break up?"

He paused again, "We didn't use any protection and her period was late. She thought she was pregnant and wrote me a note in school. I stuffed the note in my pocket, planning to read it later, but forgot all about it. My Mom found the note." He inhaled deeply, then went on, "She called Mrs. Schanz and everyone went a little crazy. It's almost funny. Heidi got her period that same afternoon after school. We haven't dated since."

"Do you want to?"

"No, but it doesn't matter. She complained and freaked out about my... um...."


"My... I'm embarrassed now. Um, my size. She always thought my cock was too big and even said it was freaky, cried every time we did it and it got old."

I was satisfied, but needed one more reassurance, "Are you mad at me for asking? I would never complain you know. Except for pictures, yours is the only one I've ever seen up close, and she's right: you are REALLY big, ya know!" I nervously giggled, trying to break the obvious tension.

"Thanks. No, I don't mind; in fact, I'm glad you asked. You're the only one who knows besides Heidi."

I didn't have the heart to tell him that every girl at school knew he was a stud and had the biggest prick in the entire school. It would have only embarrassed him further, making him even more self-conscious. My friend Carla even joked about him, calling him "horse dick" once in front of other girls, even though she'd never seen his cock. Kissing him on the side of the face, I sort of cuddled up against him, "Truman, will you go all the w... make love to me?"

"Now?" he asked in a surprised tone.

I whispered, "Not now, but sometime... will you? I won't complain and you can go all the way inside me if you want, okay?"

"I don't think there's any question about it. I'll fuck... er, make love to you... sometime, sure - especially if I can get all ten plus inches inside you. That would be so fantastic!" He leaned into me, and his kiss was warm, light, and dry.

I'm not sure I ever really knew Truman, now that I think back on that time of my life. Sometimes you want to believe in someone so badly that you accept too much at face value. Truman made love to me about a dozen times the rest of the weekend, and the following week I was so sore I could barely sit, much less walk. His cock was so big that it felt like it was coming out of my throat when he was inside me, and when I sat on top of him, he felt as big as a fence post. God, it hurt, but it hurt so good! I was especially proud that I could accommodate his immense size unlike any girl ever had before, that was so cool. It was nice of him to fuck a younger girl and a petite girl like myself. He joked once that he felt like he was fucking a little girl, but I didn't think that was funny. I was a big girl, despite being only 4'8 inches tall! However, when my parents returned, I was reduced to sucking him off in the car and jacking him off at the movies. He would shoot so much cum on the back of the theater seats in front of us that we always had to get up and move afterwards.

I was able to use the vibrator and dildo for several weeks thereafter when no one else was around. Then one day, they were gone. I searched high and low, but never saw them again. But I know that they were around somewhere because I could hear Mom and Dad at play. The sound a vibrator makes when it touches a bed frame is unique. Many was the night that I could hear them giggle in the confines of their bedroom when the toys would inadvertently "burp." And they still seem to be going strong today. I'm glad it's like that for them.

As to Truman, he and I never found ourselves in a situation that could so easily lend itself to the passions of our youth. After he graduated, he and Heidi went all the way at least one more time. It's no wonder that with all the cum he shot that this time she didn't get her period and they were later married in a small civil ceremony with just a few close friends and their two-month old son. But if I had a chance, I'd fuck him one more time. He was the best lover I ever had by far.

It's wondrous what a dream can do to jog your memory.

The End
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