BEV–A GOOD DEED PAYS OFF

BEV–A GOOD DEED PAYS OFF

All participants in sexual activities are eighteen or older.

Thursday, March 23, 1961

My mom was having one of those “oops” babies—one of those pregnancies that come totally unplanned, which this definitely was. I’m Richard, 18 and a high school senior, and because Mom had to spend the next four months in bed, I was able to drive her car to school rather than take the school bus. After reaching the school and realizing that I was early I drove through some of the parallel streets behind it, looking for friends who were “walkers” who might want a ride.

That’s how I ran into Bev—not literally, of course. She was walking one Thursday morning in late March as she always did when I approached, asking if she’d like a ride. Like me, Bev was a senior, but we were polar opposites. I was tall and thin—actually skinny—well over six feet with a protruding Adam’s apple that gave me a nickname ever since we had read the Washington Irving story, “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” way back in ninth grade English. Ever since then I’d had been called “Ichabod” due to my resemblance to the Disney character we had also seen on TV. In contrast, Bev was short—barely five feet—and to be kind, I’d call her plump. We were friendly acquaintances as were most of us in the senior class, but hardly close personal friends.

Bev accepted my offer of a ride which was no surprise, but once in the car, she slid across the front seat of Mom’s ’58 Ford until she was practically in my lap. That was not only a surprise—it was actually shocking, but what would I do about it? It was chancy, I knew. There would be one of three results. I was pretty sure that she’d let me kiss her, but what would she do when I put her hand on my cock? First, she might just stroke it, and—if she did—I’d have it out and into her hand in a flash. Second, she could just pull her hand away. Finally, she could just haul off and slap me. I was praying for number one, obviously.

I pulled over after about a quarter mile where I could tell that there was nobody to be seen, ahead or behind us, and on neither side, too. Once the engine was off, I leaned down and gave her a kiss. Her response was better than I had hoped. Her mouth opened and her tongue was pushed into mine in a flash. I wasted no time getting to the moment of truth. I had pulled my cock up so there was room for it to expand and harden. Using my left hand, I took her right and placed it on my organ. YES! She began to stroke it firmly as she pressed her lips into mine forcefully and her tongue became even more active.

My hands were busy with her blouse’s buttons and soon I had her bra pushed up over her fleshy mounds. My hands massaged them as my fingers pinched and tweaked her nipples. Meanwhile, Bev continued to rub my cock through my slacks. I stopped the massage momentarily so I could open my belt and slacks. Bev’s hands dug immediately into my briefs, pulling my cock and balls out and tucking the elastic band under my large swollen testicles.

Now Bev attacked my organ with surprising strength and energy. Her hands were moving swiftly as I began to feel it. “Bev, if you keep that up, I’m going to make a terrific mess. I’m gonna cum all over the place.” I thought she might stop, but she continued as she quickly removed her lips from mine, wrapping them tightly around my glans, and just in time, because I blew mere seconds later. Bev eagerly swallowed all of it—well, most of it, anyway. There were several drops on her cheeks and chin.

Bev was licking her lips when I grabbed my cock, pulling it with my tightly wrapped fist as I told Bev, ”There’s a bit more here, if you’re interested.” Not surprisingly, she was. Every time I pulled a droplet from my hole, she was there to lick it, savoring the taste and texture in her mouth and on her tongue. Finally, I was done, so I wrapped myself up and returned to kissing her and tweaking her nipples.

Once she was warmed up physically, I lifted her skirt and drove my fingers under her panties and into her cunt. “Oh, God, Richard. Do it! Fuck me with your fingers. That’s it. Use another finger in me, please! Make me cum! Please! Make me cum!”

Now I had two fingers in her and she was dripping wet. Any more and her skirt would be ruined. Suddenly, she arched her back and her body rose from the seat. Her hands gripped my head as she kissed me frantically, her tongue driving deeply into my mouth, as she came with incredible force. Some thirty seconds later, she came to rest. Checking her watch, she told me, “I have just enough time to go home and change if you’ll take me. Don’t worry. My parents are away for a long weekend. Maybe you’d like to come by tonight and fuck me.”

I started the car and turned around, following her directions to her house. She ran in, stripping out of her skirt as she ran. Less than five minutes later she was back in the car and we were on our way to school. “You probably think I’m an incredible slut.” I was just about to say “no” when she continued. “All I think about is sex. Fucking and sucking, over and over, is all I want to do. I don’t care if you just use me for sex. That’s what I want. I know we’ll never date seriously. My parents will only allow me to date someone who is an Orthodox Jew, just like us. But I don’t care if it’s just this weekend. I want your cock…and I want it badly. Can you take me home after school today? I have two condoms, but we’ll need more…lots more, if you want to do it tomorrow and Saturday.” What the hell! That sounded just fine to me.

An entire weekend of unbridled sex! What an incredible find for a socially inept guy like myself. I’d never know the reason, but while I was always confident and outspoken in class, I was usually totally tongue-tied when it came to girls, or young women, whatever you might want to call them. I knew from locker room talk that several of my friends were sexually active. I wasn’t so naïve that I believed all of the talk, but several of my classmates had some of the finest looking and hottest girls as their long-term girlfriends. They were all confident athletes, and, unlike the “big talkers” they rarely talked about their relationships with their girlfriends. I also knew that two brothers—no longer students—had married their girlfriends after knocking them up. They had all dropped out of school–a powerful statement about the depth of their stupidity.

I told Bev that I’d have to check with my mom—if she needed me to run any errands for her. If not, I’d be in her bed in a heartbeat. We parted once I had parked in the high school lot, heading for our lockers until lunch when all of the seniors would meet to eat and chat. I had often sat with girls as well as my guy friends, so nobody would be surprised to find Bev and me at the same table. We were joined by two girls and one male—all top-drawer students like me. Oddly, all three girls were Jewish while the other male and I were Christians.

Our table talk dealt mostly with academic issues—the upcoming Advanced Placement exams in English, Calculus, French, and Physics as well as the state exams in Physics and Advanced Algebra which Bev and one of the other girls were taking. Also, on our minds, was the Senior Prom which was just two months away, for which I still didn’t have a date. We all rose to leave, but Bev and I lingered behind the others for a few seconds. “I phoned my mom and she doesn’t need me at home so I told her I was going over to a friend’s house to review some calculus issues. She just told me to be home by 5:30 so we’ll have at least an hour and a half.”

“That’s great,” she whispered. I’ll bet I can get you to cum at least twice and at least that many for me. I’ll meet you at your car. Okay?” I agreed and, once I was sure we were the last to leave I pushed my hand up the back of her skirt and my fingers into her cunt. I fucked her with them for about thirty seconds until she shook as the spasms of a powerful orgasm ripped through her body. The timing was perfect as the cafeteria workers were coming to clean and sanitize the tables and chairs. The custodians would then place the chairs on the tables so they could clean and mop the large floor. As seniors, we had the final lunch period all to ourselves.

I had a hard time concentrating on my afternoon classes, except Advanced French which usually required all of my attention. I had a big advantage over my fellow students, though. One of my neighbor’s mother and grandmother were born in France as was his step-father who had actually fought for the French Resistance during WWII. He didn’t like to talk about it very often and I had often thought that was understandable. What kind of person would want to brag about killing, even in a major war?

I had gone to my friend’s house when he had moved in while we were both in fourth grade and recognized immediately that his parents were French. He attended a nearby parochial school at the time and since ninth grade he’d been at a regional Catholic high school even though he openly admitted that he was no great student. “I think they’re only interested in my parents’ money.” That was how he explained it. I could understand. His mom had a top-level job for a big French designer, supposedly a major force in creating high-end women’s clothing. At least, that’s what my mother and sisters had told me. His step-dad was an engineer—the kind who made roads and bridges.

I had spoken French—real French—not like what I heard every day in class, with his mother and grandmother, improving my pronunciation, grammar, and accent. Surprisingly, and I’m sure to his mother’s embarrassment, Mike had failed French 1 three consecutive years and couldn’t speak it worth a damn. Many times, his Nana had suggested that I was really her grandson and that we had been switched at birth. I laughed at that because Mike was born locally while I was born in New Jersey. We lived now in Westchester County, just north of New York City.

The afternoon dragged, exactly as I had expected, but eventually the final bell did sound and all of us hustled out of school. I did see my sister who was a sophomore and told her that I was going to visit a classmate and would be home in time for dinner. I did this fairly often, so it was hardly a big deal, although this afternoon definitely would be a big deal—hopefully, an extremely big deal.

As planned, Bev met me at my car and, once I had opened the driver’s side door, she slid across, but only far enough for me to sit and close the door. She had my cock out and into her mouth before we were even off the school grounds. A few minutes later, as we approached her home, I asked if it was safe to park in her driveway. “Sure, none of our neighbors get home from work until well after five. It’ll be dark by then.” Hell, if it was okay with her, it was fine by me. It wasn’t my parents who would be bitching about a non-Jew visiting their daughter.

Bev had me as hard as a rock before I had even turned onto her block and she reluctantly pushed me back into my slacks so we could walk the short distance to her house. Once inside, we shed our clothes and I followed her at the run to her room where she pulled two condom packets from her drawer. She pulled me onto her bed as she opened one of the packets with her teeth before rolling it carefully down my hard, pulsing organ.

Once it was in place, she climbed onto my body and slowly lowered herself onto my cock, sighing as her cunt was stretched and filled with my meat. Until this very second, I had been a virgin and I couldn’t believe my luck. Neither of us would win any medals for beauty or sexiness. Her small breasts bounced with my every thrust, as did her belly and ass, but I didn’t care—not then and definitely not over the next few days. I’d have plenty of time to reflect on all of it once her parents returned from their trip.

Bev rode me hard for several minutes, begging me to pinch and twist her clit. Thank God for the Letters section of Playboy or I would have had no idea what she was talking about. Instead, I pulled and twisted her tender tissue until she screamed that she wanted me to use my nails on her. I did and she came—apparently quite hard and a second or two later, so did I. I’d actually lasted somewhat longer than anticipated. I owed Bev for that, too. My orgasm this morning had taken the edge off and given me a bit more staying power.

We lay next to each other, our arms and legs intertwined as we returned to normal. Bev was kissing me as she removed the gooey filled condom. She had just wrapped it into a Kleenex when I asked, “So, where’d you get this experience? How did you become addicted to fucking and sucking and cum?”

“You won’t believe me when I tell you.