Temptations of an Old Flame

A couple quick notes. This is a story that features sex, not sex that was forced into a story. If you don’t like that, don’t read it. There are many sex scenes throughout the story, but there are also some sizable chunks without sex. Consider yourself warned. Also, this story is long – seriously long – about the equivalent of a 180 page novel. If you don’t like long stories, don’t read it. I thought about breaking it up into several different stories, but I really felt uncomfortable breaking it up. If you read it in chunks, which I presume most people will, I recommend stopping at the chapter breaks and using your browser’s find function to skip straight to that chapter the next time you want to read. Finally, if you want to read similar stories that are not as long before deciding if you want to spend your time on this one, I suggest reading some of my other stories (Temptations of a Young Teacher and Lost Hikers are probably the closest). If you like those, you’ll probably like this. That all being said, for those of you still interested in reading it, I hope you enjoy it.





The Beginning

Courtney Arnold was my first kiss.

It happened in first grade. We were sitting at our normal lunch tables – I was at the boys’ table, she was at the girls’ table. In the middle of the lunch period, she got up, calmly walked over to my table, turned my head towards her and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. Then she smiled at me and walked back to her table.

I vaguely remember the eruption of laughter and giggles at the girls’ table, along with the sounds of disgust from the boys around me. However, it was all background noise to me. I was completely zoned out. I watched Courtney as she walked back to her table and stared at her for several minutes after that before snapping out of it. Some of the boys were laughing at me and many of the girls kept turning around to look at me and giggle.

I knew I should have been as disgusted as the other boys sounded, if not more so. Obviously, girls have cooties and no one wants those. But if I had just gotten girl cooties, I liked it.

I believe that moment was the beginning of many of my problems in life.




The Note

The note on my desk as I walked into my room that morning terrified me:

“Mr. Taylor – Meghan’s mom called after you left. Wants to talk. As per your usual request, I told her just to come in after school tomorrow. Hope that’s okay. Lynn.”

Lynn was the school secretary. The note was dated yesterday, making the reference to ‘tomorrow’ now today. I couldn’t blame her though. When parents want to meet, I always tell them just to come in after school is over. I’m usually very open and communicative with my students’ parents – in fact I had met with the parents of every student in my class that year – except Meghan’s. Of course there was a reason for that. A very good reason – at least to me. I guess I couldn’t avoid it forever. I just wish I had more than seven hours to prepare for it.




Elementary School

Courtney had lived down the street from me all our life. I’m not sure how our mothers had ended up being such good friends. I never really asked. All I know is that our mothers were indeed such good friends, and spent many days together when I was very young. Even after both of them got jobs when Courtney and I were in third grade, they still spent many afternoons together after work. Both of us being only children, this meant that we were brought with our mothers when they went to each others’ houses or otherwise went out up until we were about ten years old.

Obviously, spending hours upon hours together had led us to be very close. But for whatever reason, we only seemed to be friends outside of school. In school, we’d be nice to each other, but we didn’t really hang out. Courtney spent her time with the girls while I hung out with the boys. It was just the way our elementary school was. That kiss was an aberration in Courtney’s school behavior, and nothing of the sort happened in school again.

We never talked about the kiss. I never even asked her why she did it. In retrospect, my best guess is that one of the girls dared her to, but there’s really no way to know.

I guess when you are that young, you don’t know what a kiss means. While I knew I had enjoyed the kiss, it didn’t change my view of Courtney. She was just my best friend. We played games together, had tickle wars, wrestled each other, dunked each other in pools, and things of that sort. The kiss faded into one of the many things we did together. It wasn’t until fifth grade that something else happened.

We were eleven, and my mom went over to visit Courtney’s mom after she got back from work. For about a year now, my mom had stopped ‘forcing’ me to go with her when she visited Courtney’s mom, saying I was old enough to watch myself for a couple hours at home until my dad got back from work. However, most the time, as the case was this day, I still went over to hang out with Courtney, just as she usually came over to hang out with me when her mom visited, despite the fact that her mom had stopped making her come over for nearly two years now (I had been very jealous that Courtney was allowed to be left alone before I was).

Courtney’s parents had a pretty big house, especially considering there were only three people living there. It was two stories, and actually had four bedrooms on the second floor – her parents’ bedroom, her bedroom, a guest bedroom, and the fourth bedroom was turned into a playroom for Courtney when she was younger, though it wasn’t used much anymore. The house was huge compared to my parents’ house, which was just one floor with only two bedrooms. Courtney’s house was probably close to twice the size of mine.

Because of its size, the house had many hiding spots and was great for hide-and-seek, which is what we ended up playing that day. Courtney started counting downstairs while I went upstairs to hide. I couldn’t count how many times the two of us had played hide-and-seek in her house. I usually hid in a very hidden spot – behind toys under her bed, behind clothes in her or her parents’ closets, behind towels or linens in one of the linen closets, stuff like that.

That day though, I decided that since she usually checked those really hidden spots first now – because they were where I always hid – I would, for the first time in a long time, pick a more obvious hiding spot, and thus one she probably wouldn’t check for awhile – her parents’ shower. Her parents’ shower had two sliding doors, one was a mirror and the other was just slightly obscured glass. I quietly slid open the door, stepped into the shower, and shut the door, pressing myself up to the wall behind the mirror, as out of sight as I could be.

Sure enough, it took Courtney ages to find me. She came to the bathroom multiple times to check the towel closet in it, but she left each time, never checking the shower.

Finally, I heard the door slide open quickly and Courtney shout, “Found you!”

I just smiled and responded, “Took you long enough!”

Courtney smiled back and said, “It was a good spot, not one of your normal places.”

“Thanks,” I replied, smiling at the compliment.

Courtney stood at the entrance to the shower for awhile looking at me. She held the sliding door open with one hand, blocking my way out, though it didn’t appear intentional. There was a weird look on her face, but I didn’t know what to make of it.

After a minute or so of standing there I announced, “I guess it’s your turn.”

“Yeah,” Courtney mumbled in response. But she didn’t move.

“Are you going to let me out, or do I have to get past you?” I was smiling, looking forwards to trying to push past Courtney. We often played little games like that.

But I guess that wasn’t her intention.

Her immediate response was, “Can I see your thing?”

My mind being somewhere else, I was confused by her answer, and simply responded, “Huh?”

“You know, your thing.” She brought a hand out and pointed towards my crotch. “Can I see it? I’ve never seen one.”

My hands instinctively covered my crotch, even though I was wearing jeans, and felt my face flush as I looked down at the floor. I immediately shouted, “No!”

There was a short pause. Out of the tops of my eyes, I saw Courtney’s head move up slightly as she looked at my face while I looked down at the floor.

Several seconds later, she began talking again. “Have you ever seen a girl’s….” She paused for a second, before finishing, “Stuff?”

I looked up at her face and just shook my head no.

Courtney smiled, and not wasting a second, said, “I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours!”

Then there was a long silence. A description of Courtney and myself should help explain this silence.

Courtney was an early bloomer while I was a late bloomer. She wasn’t tall per se – there were taller kids in our class at school – but she was probably close to half a foot taller than me. I was one of the shortest kids in our class. I’d guess she was about five feet tall, compared to my four foot seven. We had been about the same height most of our lives, but in third grade Courtney started to grow faster than me. She was just barely taller than me in third and fourth grade, but since the summer before fifth, she had grown really quickly while I hadn’t, leading to the big difference between us now. I asked my mom about this at one point, and she said I would grow eventually and probably would be taller than Courtney in the end, as both my mom and dad were pretty tall, while Courtney’s mom was short, though her dad was about average height.

Another thing that changed while Courtney was growing was her body shape. She used to be kinda round, like me, or her mother. Not that I, or her mother, was fat. I think we were both average, though her mom might have had a little extra weight. But since Courtney had grown, her body had thinned out a lot. Earlier in the year, when she was wearing shorts, I could see how long and skinny her legs had become. Her arms were the same, they looked liked they had just been stretched from the arms she had before. My arms and legs were still short and slightly rounded.

Courtney also had two obvious bulges on her chest. I had first noticed them over a year ago, at the beginning of fourth grade, but I thought nothing of them. We hadn’t gotten the puberty talk at school, that came in sixth grade (this was the early 80s, I know it comes earlier nowadays). However, I knew enough to know that both her and my bodies were going to go through changes, that she would get boobs while both of us would get pubic hair. That was all I thought of it.

Until now.

With her offering, I suddenly was curious to see her growing boobs. I was also curious to see if she had gotten any pubic hair yet. However, that curiosity was nearly overrun by the embarrassment of showing Courtney my body. Her body obviously was changing, but mine was not. I had no pubic hair, and my ‘thing,’ as Courtney had so delicately put it, had not grown at all.

The embarrassment won me over, leading me to break the long silence.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I muttered out, looking back at the ground.

I couldn’t see her face, but I could hear the disappointment in Courtney’s voice. “Come on,” she nearly begged, “it’s not that big of a deal!”

Still staring at the ground, I shook my head no.

There was a brief pause.

Suddenly, the pause was broken by Courtney, excitedly saying, “I know! We’ll do it through the shower door! Then we’ll barely be seeing anything!”

I had looked up the second Courtney started talking, surprising me with her excitement. I looked over at the slightly obscure glass door. She was probably right. The glass door was obscured enough that you couldn’t see clearly through it, but could probably just make out an outline of what was on the other side. I still wasn’t sure though.

“I don’t know,” I muttered out.

“Come on, Johnny,” she pleaded. That was my name, Johnny Taylor. Johnny wasn’t a nickname for John or Jonathan, it actually says ‘Johnny’ on my birth certificate.

I looked up at Courtney and saw her giving me a puppy-dog face. I felt myself caving. I noticed that she was also standing kind of weird, with her chest pushed out towards me. I didn’t think anything of that. Looking in her eyes, I said, “Promise not to laugh?”

Courtney got a confused look on her face and her body went back to normal, her chest no longer pushing towards me. “Why would I laugh?”

I kept my eyes locked on hers and just repeated, “Promise.”

Courtney suddenly went all serious. She put one hand over her heart and held one up in the air beside her and recited, “I promise that I will not laugh for any reason.” She then put her arms down by her sides and looked at me.

“Okay,” was all I could say.

“Yay! This will be so fun!” With that, Courtney pulled the glass door closed, leaving me in the shower and her just outside of it.

“Now,” she began once we were standing exactly opposite each other, “When I take my shirt off, you take your shirt off. When I take my pants off, you take yours off. When I take my underwear off, you take yours off. My bra counts as underwear, I’ll take it off last.”

I nodded to show that I understood.

Courtney grabbed the bottom of her shirt and asked, “Ready?”

I just grabbed the bottom of my shirt and nodded in response.

And then Courtney started pulling off her shirt, and I started pulling off mine. Courtney dropped her shirt on the floor and I dropped mine in the shower. My eyes immediately went to Courtney’s gray training bra. While it didn’t show much, it made her mounds more obvious than her T-shirt had, though nothing I hadn’t seen through a swimsuit before. I could see little dots at the end of each boob. I also could see the bottom of Courtney’s rib cage below her bra and her hip bones sticking out above her jeans.

I didn’t get much time to look though as Courtney had immediately unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, again asking, “Ready?”

I unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, grabbed the sides of them, and nodded.

Again, Courtney pulled her pants down quickly, and I followed suit. Both of us stepped out of our pants. I could see Courtney’s skinny legs and her crotch covered by tight underwear covered in strawberries. I was now standing in just my royal blue underwear.

As soon as she had stepped out of her pants, Courtney had tucked her hands inside the sides of her underwear, again asking, “Ready?”

I took a deep breath, put my hands in the sides of my underwear like her, and nodded again.

And we both bent over and pulled down. I paused and glanced at myself before standing up, hoping beyond hope that I had somehow grown bigger or grown hair in the past five minutes. No luck. My tiny penis and balls were all that was there, unchanged.

When I stood up, Courtney had her hands tucked under her bra, and she pulled it over her head as soon as I stood up.

And that was it. Courtney and I were both naked, separated only by a semi-obscure glass door. My eyes locked onto Courtney’s boobs. They looked like the size of very small apples, but there was enough there to bounce a little as she dropped her arms to her sides after pulling off her training bra. They were topped with tiny pointy nipples sticking out. They didn’t look much bigger than my boy nipples, though obviously I didn’t have the boobs underneath them.

She must’ve seen me staring, because after a few seconds, she held her hand with her training bra out in front of her, waving it around. I looked at her face. I saw Courtney smile as she dramatically tossed her bra behind her and then struck a pose, sticking her hips out to one side and putting a hand on that hip and placing her other hand behind her head.

Through all of this I watched her boobs lightly bounce around on her chest. The way she was standing, her two boobs looked different, the one on the side with her hand on her hip a bit lower and fuller than the one on the side with her hand above her head, making that small boob look stretched out.

After awhile, my eyes drifted down her skinny body to the tiny little line between her legs. Her legs were only the tiniest bit apart, so all I could see was the tiny line. I was also dismayed to see some tiny, nearly-colorless hairs sticking out around the line. She was obviously already getting pubic hair and I was not. I felt my face flush in embarrassment as I made that connection, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away from Courtney’s naked body. I just kept looking back and forth between her boobs and her little line between her legs.

I have no idea how long we stood around like that. It could’ve been five seconds, it could’ve been five minutes. All sense of time was lost to me. Time didn’t come back until we heard the sudden shout up the stairs of, “Johnny, time to go!”

Initially, I just shook my head a bit, coming out of the daze I was in. Courtney, however, appeared to freak out. She quickly spun around and bent down to pick up her training bra. I froze. When she bent over, her legs were slightly spread and she hadn’t bent her knees much, giving me a view of her tiny pink butthole and a flash of pink inside that small line between her legs. She was only in that position for a couple seconds, if that, but it was a view that would haunt me for years to come.

As she started putting on her bra, Courtney noticed I hadn’t moved. Sounding scared and hurried, she whispered, “Come on, get dressed!”

I immediately jerked out of my daze again and suddenly felt the fear she felt at getting caught. I reached down for my underpants and pulled them up.

I was surprised that my penis was now sticking up. I had been hard before. It was sometimes like that when I woke up or during a shower. I had never noticed it getting hard before though. It either was hard or it wasn’t. That was the first time I’d notice it start soft and get hard, the first real boner of my life. Back when I was much younger and my mom showered me, she called it a ‘hat hook’ when it was like that, because you could hang a hat on it. When I asked why it happened, she just told me it was like that sometimes. And that was the sum of all my knowledge up until then. I was suddenly embarrassed that Courtney had seen it hard, even getting hard at that. I quickly tried to comfort myself with the thought that she probably couldn’t see me very well through the slightly obscured glass. But then I remembered how clearly I could see her through it and threw that thought out the window. I wondered what she thought of it.

I never found out though, as we both quickly rushed to get dressed.

In less than half a minute, we were both dressed. I got out of the shower, closing the door behind me to leave it as it was when I got there. Then we both ran to the top of the stairs.

Just before the top of the stairs, Courtney grabbed my arm and stopped me. I looked at her. With a serious look on her face, she whispered, “Don’t tell anyone about this.”

I simply nodded in response, apparently all I could do. My voice was lost ages ago. As soon as I nodded, Courtney smiled and we started down the stairs. We were both slightly out of breath from running.

Both our moms were talking at the bottom of the stairs. When we came into view, my mom broke off her conversation with Courtney’s mom and asked, “Playing hide-and-seek, again?”

Courtney just said, “Yup, Mrs. Taylor! I won.”

My mom laughed and said, “Looks like Johnny’s pretty bummed about that!” I obviously wasn’t as good at covering up my emotions as Courtney, who was smiling and did look like she had just beaten me at hide-and-seek. I on the other hand felt like I looked scared, which my mom obviously interpreted as sad about losing.

We finished walking down the stairs as our moms finished their conversation. My mom walked out the door and I followed. I looked back briefly. Courtney’s mom waved at me. Courtney winked at me.

Then my mom and I walked home.

Courtney and I didn’t talk about it until nearly a year later. She acted like it never happened. I was too scared to bring it up. However, after our sixth grade puberty talk in school, we spent the day at her house again. The puberty talk was separated into a boys group and a girls groups. Courtney wanted to hear what the boys’ talk was about (getting body hair, shaving, a lower voice, erections – which I finally learned were caused by arousal, and wet dreams). She then told me what the girls’ talk was about (boobs, pubic hair, shaving, periods). Then she suddenly asked if we could strip in front of each other again. It took even more talking into for me this time. I had only grown a couple inches in the last year and still no pubic hair. Meanwhile, Courtney had grown at least three inches more and had bigger boobs, and no doubt pubic hair. I fought it for awhile, but ultimately could not outlast Courtney.

So we stripped the same way we had before, only this time it was in her bedroom and there was no glass door separating us. Seeing Courtney take off her bra, show me her real boobs that now looked the size of full grown apples, instead of small apples, with darker nipples, and darker pubic hair that nearly hid the line between her legs, compared to me and my still hairless, less than two inch penis, ended with me in tears. Courtney came over and hugged me, pulling my head into her. At my height, that put my head resting against her boobs. She kept telling me that it was okay, that I’d grow someday, and that nothing changed that I would always be her friend. I was too embarrassed to respond, or even to hug her back. The hug didn’t last long though. With one of her nipples pressing against my cheek and her pubic hair pushing against my stomach, I quickly got an erection again, not much bigger than two inches. When I felt it poke into her thigh, I pulled away from the hug. I saw Courtney staring at my tiny erection. I couldn’t take it anymore, grabbed my clothes, pulling them on as I ran out her bedroom door, downstairs, out her front door, not stopping until I was locked in my own bedroom.

The next day I pretended that nothing had happened. So did Courtney. I think the only reason we remained friends after that was Courtney’s amazing ability to truly act like things like that never happened. If she had ever brought it up, even once, I think I would’ve run away, never talking to her again. But she didn’t, and so we remained friends.

Sometimes, though, I wonder if it would’ve been better if she had brought it up again.




Arrival

I tried to go about my normal morning routine – straightening desks, changing the calendar, putting newly corrected papers in the students’ mailboxes, and planning my lessons for the day. I got through the menial tasks – the desks, the calendar, and the papers. But I couldn’t plan. My mind kept going back to the note, and the upcoming meeting, and I didn’t want to think about that. Instead of trying to focus, I just decided to wing it (I had done that many times before). I went back to straightening the desks.

I must have straightened the desks eight to ten times before the morning bell rang. Not long after, my fifth graders started walking into the classroom. Some said ‘hi’ to me, some just walked back to the coat racks. I smiled and said ‘hello’ to each student as they walked in.

A minute or so after the bell rang, a group of three girls walked in. Two said ‘hi’ to me, and I responded likewise. Then the third girl looked over at me with an attempted smile.

Meghan.

I couldn’t help it. As had happened many times before, I saw right through her clothes, seeing her naked. Or rather, seeing memories of a fifth grade Courtney naked in her place. Meghan looked exactly like her. Every time I saw her, those memories of ‘show-me-yours-and-I’ll-show-you-mine’ flooded back into my head and I saw Courtney’s naked body where Meghan should be. I hated it. But I couldn’t stop it. I quickly turned around, though not before I saw the attempted smile on Meghan’s face fade into the frown I had gotten used to seeing there.

After a vigorous shake of my head, trying to get the image out of my mind for the thousandth time, I went to the board to write the schedule for the day and set up the math lesson.




Junior High

Despite remaining friends, we grew apart after sixth grade. I hadn’t truly felt comfortable around Courtney since the last time she talked me into getting naked with her, so I was kind of searching for new friends. Timing was in my favor.

Our school district was divided into three K-6 elementary schools that all fed into one junior high building for grades seven and eight located in a small building neighboring the high school.

I joined the junior varsity soccer team in seventh grade. I had played soccer for four years in elementary school, along with baseball and basketball for one year each. Soccer was the only sport I was really good at. Height didn’t seem to matter as much, and I still hadn’t grown much. I became good friends with the other soccer players, a couple of which were girls, almost all of which came from different elementary schools. Every weekend a group of us would get together and go go-karting or see a movie or even just hang out at someone’s house.

I began to see less and less of Courtney. She joined junior varsity cheerleading and ended up hanging out mostly with other cheerleaders or basketball and football players. We never talked in school. Not even a ‘hi’ in passing. Every now and then we’d get together at one of our houses and watch TV or talk, but slowly that faded into phone calls every few days (real phone calls, no cell phones yet as this is still in the 80s).

We got together a bunch of times in the summer between seventh and eighth grade, but I think that was mainly out of convenience. She didn’t like to be by herself for long, and since most of her friends were now from other districts, that meant she hung out with me instead. She was never mean about it, she didn’t treat me like a secondary friend, even though I knew I was. She was actually really nice to me and I was beginning to enjoy hanging out with her. By the end of the summer, I started to really like Courtney. I hid that feeling completely from Courtney, and even tried to hide it from myself, telling myself, first, that it would never happen – we were friends (even friends that saw each other naked a couple times) but nothing more; and second, that we would grow apart again as soon as eighth grade started.

And boy was I right. At least for most the year.

It didn’t take long for Courtney to become the eye candy of our grade. I guess I had been around Courtney so much that I hadn’t seen the changes in her. Or maybe I just still saw her as my best friend from third grade, before she hit puberty. It took until one my friends pointed it out before I noticed it.

I was sitting at my lunch table one day with a lot of the other junior varsity soccer guys. I don’t remember what we were talking about, but the conversation abruptly stopped when one of the guys saw Courtney coming out of the kitchen area of the cafeteria (in the school you bought your food in the kitchen and then walked out to the cafeteria, which was essentially totally separate from the kitchen). Interrupting another guy, he whined out, “Daaaaaaaamn! Who is that?”

He obviously didn’t recognize her from the year before and came from a different elementary school so hadn’t known her before that. Obviously, every guy at the table turned to look. Not even thinking about it I responded, “Oh, that’s just Courtney Arnold.”

The entire table turned to me like I was crazy, except for one guy who was the only other person there who came from my elementary school. One of the guys who had turned to look, not the guy who first spoke and not the guy from my elementary school, started scolding me.

“’Just?’ That’s like saying it’s ‘just’ Madonna!” Again, this was the 80s. “Look at that face – she should be in Hollywood with that face! And with that body she should be a supermodel! I mean, did you see those tits? I’d sacrifice one of my nuts to rest my head on those! And those hips, look at them sway! I’d love to rock against them to her beat! And to grab that ass! I mean look at that ass! Look at it! And those legs! Can you imagine having them wrapped around you? Screw sacrificing one nut, I’d give up both just to see her naked!”

As he said all of this, I did look at Courtney. First off, she was one of the, if not the tallest and most physically mature girl in our grade. She stood about five foot five, maybe five foot six, she had very full, very perky breasts, wide-but-not-too-wide hips, and her too skinny legs had filled out and now looked firm, while not being too fat or too muscular. The outfit she had on only amplified the looks. She had dark brown hair with bangs in the front with the rest dropping down to just below the middle of her back. Her top looked like a leotard, fitted to her body (which it very well could’ve been in the 80s). While you couldn’t see any real cleavage, the bottom of the neck was pushed out just slightly from the size of her boobs, probably large B or small C cups. You could also make out the outline of her bra through the top, which just drew more attention to her chest. She had on a bleached pair of jeans with a couple holes in the front and a belt just above her hips. The tightness of the belt emphasized that this girl had hips. As she walked away to her table, her hips swayed from side to side, and there was a slight bounce to her ass. This bounce was emphasized by a hole in her jeans just below her left ass cheek. With every bounce there was the tiniest flash of white through the hole, which was either the bottom of the inside of her back pocket or a pair of white panties. I couldn’t tell which.

Looking at her like this, I suddenly couldn’t understand how I had missed it all summer. I had been with her once to twice a week and never realized how good looking she was. Hell, not even two years ago I had seen the girl naked (though I didn’t focus on that thought because it reminded me of what I was like at that time).

Then it flashed through my head that none of these guys even knew that I knew her, let alone that she used to be my best friend, and was still one of my closer friends. Even the guy who went to elementary school with me. Courtney and I had always stayed apart in school. We hung out with our school friends in school and with each other out of school. I never even really talked about her. She just didn’t come up. So here I was, short, immature little me (though I was almost five foot by this point and was finally getting some faint signs of pubic hair) with the ability to blow my taller, more physically mature friends away with my connection with this girl, and I felt I couldn’t even mention it because no one would believe me.

So I didn’t say anything.

In response to the other guy’s description, the guy who had first seen her said, “Yeah, Johnny. Damn man! How could you miss that?” Then he muttered under his breath, “Just” and shook his head while he turned back towards the table. The other guys followed suit.

I was trying to think up some kind of defense when my friend from elementary school spoke up. “You know, she kissed Johnny once.”

There were gasps of surprise and shouts of “What?” as every person at the table turned towards him.

“Yup. First grade. I was sitting right next to him. She just got up, walked over, and kissed him on the lips. Right there in the middle of the cafeteria.”

There were a couple hoots and hollers from the guys as they talked about how they wish they could say they had been kissed by her, and how I should return the favor by going over and kissing her now in the middle of lunch. One guy was even making out with the air trying to show me what I should do to her.

I, of course, did nothing. I said nothing. I turned red and sat there while all the other guys talked about it. Eventually the conversation died and went on to some other topic, but it was brought up nearly every day after that at lunch, at least in passing.

And the year went on.

Courtney tried out again for junior varsity cheerleading. However, because of a combination of the fact that she was too much taller than the rest of the JV squad and because she actually was really good, she got moved up to the varsity squad at the high school, much to her delight and the dismay of many eighth grade boys.

Incidentally, I almost made the high school varsity soccer team. The varsity team was three players short, so the JV coach picked five guys to try out for it. At the trials, the JV coach suggested me and two other guys were the best, but the varsity coach said he didn’t want me. I later found out from the JV coach that the reason he didn’t want me had nothing to do with my skill, I was definitely in the top three as far as skill went. But the varsity coach thought I was too small and would get killed on the field. Yet another reason it sucks to be short.

Courtney and I were actually in a couple classes together, but we never talked. We sat on opposite sides of the room in fact. I think that was just coincidence, but who knows. It’s not like Courtney suddenly hated me though. She’d still call me once or twice a week and we’d talk for up to an hour about random stuff. She’d often talk about how cool varsity cheerleading was, I’d talk about how I couldn’t wait to be on varsity soccer next year, and that I should have been on it this year. Every now and then she’d talk about some high school football or basketball guy that she thought was cool. I tried to be supportive, because I thought if I didn’t she’d think I liked her and stop talking to me because she didn’t like me like that. She’d also ask me what girls I thought were cute, which I always skillfully avoided answering. Multiple times she offered to hook me up with some girl she knew, more often than not one of the JV cheerleaders, but I somehow found that demeaning and wasn’t comfortable with it, so I politely declined. I also was well-aware that I was behind just about every other guy in my grade as far as physical maturity went, which I was self-conscious about. I didn’t think a girl would want a guy like me when there were bigger guys out there.

Overall though, the year was going well. I still had my JV soccer friends, as well as some varsity soccer friends as they had been moved up. I held no grudges against them. Not their fault I was short. I got along well, my teachers seemed to like me. Even the other kids in my classes seemed to like me. I became friends with several girls through my classes. In fact, there were three or four girls that probably would’ve gone out with me if I had the self-confidence to ask. Of course I never did.

Everything was fine until about midway through third quarter. Right up until the day of sexual education.

The way sex ed worked at the junior high was that one day the health teacher would pull out groups of about thirty students at a time and give them the sex ed talk. Each group was either all male or all female – no mixed sex ed in our school. I think most schools in the 80s were like that, but I’m not sure.

For guys, the talk was about how it was natural as you continued through puberty to have sexual urges, but acting on them was bad. Abstinence was good. Masturbation was okay. Sex was bad. No one should fall to peer pressure. Guys often say they have sex when they don’t. They shouldn’t pressure a girl to have sex. And finally, if despite all this you were going to have sex, use a condom. No matter what. Always use a condom.

For girls, the talk was similar. Urges are natural. Acting on them was bad. Abstinence good. Masturbation okay. Sex bad. Don’t feel peer pressure to have sex. Don’t be pressured into having sex by a guy. Just say no. And if you do have sex, use a diaphragm or spermicide or some other form of contraception, and also make sure the guys wears a condom. Always use a condom. And don’t have sex when you’re fertile. They also got a talk about hymens, including how breaking a hymen hurts, so you shouldn’t have sex until you are ready, how there will likely be blood when you first have sex, so don’t have sex until you are ready, and not to penetrate yourself during masturbation, because you want to keep your hymen intact until you are ready.

I should explain a couple of things here. First, my parents never had the sex talk with me. All I knew about sex I learned through the TV and my friends. Unfortunately, the TV I watched didn’t talk much about sex, and for whatever reason, I think it was my physical immaturity, my friends didn’t talk about sex much around me either. I knew that sex was a penis entering a vagina and that it created babies. I knew that you weren’t supposed to do it until you were an adult. I knew that a condom was something you put on during sex, though I had never actually seen one. And I knew sex was supposed to feel good. That was about it. I had never heard the terms abstinence or masturbation before. I also didn’t have the urges most other guys my age had yet because I wasn’t that physically mature. Yes, I got erections, and thanks to that sixth grade puberty talk, I knew why, but I never did anything about them, didn’t know I could do anything about them, and never felt the need to do anything about them. I thought it was normal to get them and just let them go down. To the best of my knowledge, I had never even had a wet dream, at least I had never woken up with wet underpants and couldn’t remember having a dream about sex. So while this sex ed was actually kind of useful to me, it also made me feel even more physically immature than I was.

I wasn’t surprised when I got a call from Courtney shortly after I got home that day. It reminded me of the sixth grade puberty talk, how she had wanted to hear about what the guys had heard that the girls didn’t get to. Sure enough, that’s what she wanted to hear about again, though she thought it was really funny and was laughing about it. She then told me everything that the girls were told, hence my description above. I was thoroughly enjoying the conversation. Talking to Courtney about sex, I figured, would provide ample visuals to try out masturbation with later.

The conversation faded to other things, cheerleading, soccer, etc. Seemingly out of nowhere, Courtney asked me, “What time does your mom get back from work?”

I figured that she was probably asking because her mom wanted to know, which had happened before. “She left a note here telling me she had some errands to run after work and wouldn’t be back until 7:00,” I responded.

“Isn’t that about when your dad gets home from work?”

Now this question really caught me off guard. She had never asked about my dad before. “Uhhhh,” I began, slightly confused, “I guess so. Usually he’s closer to 7:15 or 7:30.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. I thought about asking why she wanted to know, but for some reason I didn’t want to. After a pause long enough to make me sweat, Courtney finally said, “Can I come over?”

Luckily, I think my excitement was hidden by my shock. She hadn’t come over since the summer, and hadn’t come over during a school year since sixth grade. After what she probably noticed was a long pause, I responded, as calmly as I could, “Sure.”

“Cool,” she responded back, sounding excited, “I’ll see you in a couple minutes!”

And then she hung up.

My hand with the phone dropped to my lap while I sat on my bed. I’d like to say I was trying to figure out what was happening, but in reality I was too shocked and confused to think at all. I just zoned out sitting there.

I was shaken out of my zoning when I heard the doorbell ring. I got up and sprinted to the door. I opened it to find Courtney standing there. It was strange. She wasn’t really dressed very attractively, she had obviously changed into something more comfortable when she had gotten home from school – a baggy black T-shirt with a colorful Cyndi Lauper on the front, slightly loose jeans full of holes, beat up sneakers, and her hair was much more messy than she would ever let it be seen in school – yet I found her more attractive right then than I ever had before. That might have had something to do with her being on my doorstep.

Courtney waited a couple moments, smiling her beautiful smile, and finally asked if she could come in.

“Of course!” I quickly responded, getting out of the way.

Courtney walked into my house and closed the door behind her. She then turned to look at me, her eyes catching the phone that was still in my hand. A worried look crossed her face.

“You didn’t tell anyone I was coming, did you?”

I hadn’t realized I hadn’t put the phone down and looked down at it, realizing she must’ve thought I had called some friends to brag for some reason. I defensively shot back, “No no no! I just hadn’t put the phone back after you called.”

Courtney’s worried look remained for a few seconds before she broke into a wide grin, but said nothing. I wasn’t sure what the grin meant, but I took it as a good sign and walked towards my living room to hang up the phone. Courtney followed.

After hanging up the phone on the end table next to the couch, I turned back toward Courtney behind me. Despite having had Courtney in my house hundreds of times before, I was nervous and terrified that she was in my house right now, and she still hadn’t said why she wanted to come over yet. I looked at Courtney and she looked back at me. We said nothing.

I finally got up the courage to break the silence and, motioning towards the couch, asked, “Do you want to sit down?”

Courtney immediately replied, “Let’s go to your room.”

I tried not to let my mouth hang open, though I felt my jaw drop for a couple seconds. Somewhere in the back of the mind, I had been dreaming and hoping that Courtney had wanted to come over because she wanted to do the old ‘show-me-yours-and-I’ll-show-you-mine’ routine. I would’ve killed to see this near-fully developed hot girl – my best friend for years – naked. However, I never at any point had seriously thought that was the reason she had come over. At least not until right then.

I stuttered a reply of, “Okay,” and started walking towards my bedroom. Courtney again followed.

On the way I built up a lot of courage. Yes, I still was short and underdeveloped, but somehow that didn’t matter now compared to the idea of seeing Courtney naked. A couple steps into my room I turned around and asked, “So what do you–”

That was as far as I got. Courtney interrupted me announcing, “I want to try sex.”

This time, my jaw did not drop. I was in too much shock to react. It had not ever crossed my mind that she would want to go that far. I’d like to say that her proposal was like a dream come true, but truth be told I had not even dreamed of having sex with Courtney. I was too innocent. Dreaming of her naked was as far as I’d ever gotten (as I said before, I just learned about masturbation earlier that day).

While I was frozen, Courtney obviously was not. She showed no reaction, no smile of happiness nor frown of unsureness. She simply appeared to be on a mission as she pulled her Cyndi Lauper shirt over her head, revealing her perky braless tits pointing straight at me. She then raised her feet one at a time behind her, pulling off her sneakers and socks, causing her tits to jiggle. Then she undid the button and zipper on her jeans (she wasn’t wearing a belt) hooked her thumb in the sides, apparently catching her panties also, and pulled both to the ground, then stepped out of them.

And so she stood before me naked, for the third time in my life. Only now she had a full pair of tits staring at me along with a thick bush between her legs (not many girls shaved in the 80s, let alone eighth grade girls). The sight was something most guys in my class would’ve sold their souls to witness. And this girl wanted to have sex with me.

Not long after stripping naked, Courtney said, “Your turn now.”

I was still frozen from the moment she told me she wanted to “try sex.” Add Courtney naked in front of me, and it was too much for my mind to process. I stood before her in shock, not responding or moving.

I vaguely remember Courtney exhaling – a huff of impatience I think it was. And then she was kneeling before me unbuttoning my jeans and before I knew it, both they and my tighty-whiteys were around my ankles. I remember Courtney trying to lift one of my feet to get my pants and underwear off. She managed to pull them off one of my feet, but in the process she knocked me off balance and I stumbled backwards, eventually falling into a sitting position on my bed halfway across the room.

Courtney, not missing a beat, walked over to the bed and pulled my pants and underwear off my other foot, tossing them to the side. She then took off my socks, then stood up and pulled the bottom of my shirt up. My arms went up as she pulled, and soon enough I was sitting on my bed naked, Courtney standing naked before me.

I still hadn’t wrapped my head around the idea of having sex with Courtney, but she obviously wasn’t waiting for me. She pushed me back on the bed hard. I fell back, the sheets being pulled up a bit beneath me. Then, with me laying back on the bed with my legs hanging off the end just a little bit, Courtney climbed on the bed over me. She moved until she was on her knees, one on either side of me, lined up just above my hard dick.

I watched as Courtney bent forward a bit, leaning on one arm with her tits hanging down less than a foot above my throat. Courtney bent her head down to look towards our near-touching genitalia. I followed her gaze as she reached down and grabbed my dick, pointing it straight up towards her pussy. I remember an instance of confusion, looking down and seeing my dick look longer and harder than I had ever seen it before, though it was still barely longer than her hand wrapped around it. But I didn’t have much time to think about that before Courtney had lined it up with her hole and slammed herself down.

I’ve since talked to many other guys, who have said that they can still remember the feeling the first time they were inside a girl, that it is one of their favorite memories. I honestly don’t remember the feeling on my dick. Not at all. I just remember watching my four plus inches quickly disappear into the hairy bush of the beautiful girl above me. I remember staring at our conjoined crotches. And I remember the scream from Courtney.

I never looked up at her face, I don’t know what her expression was, but I remember that scream. I was in a state of shock, staring at the hairy pussy where my dick should have been, hearing nothing but the high pitched scream from Courtney.

My sense of time from there is completely lost. I think it was a long time before Courtney started moving on top of me, but I wouldn’t swear to it. And when she started to move, I couldn’t tell you how long she did it for. I was in shock. I felt none of the motion on my dick, I just stared as it went in and out of what was literally my dream girl. I remember seeing Courtney go straight up and down on it for awhile, then change to shifting her hips forward and backward while going up and down, and a little later from side to side, and even later in circles. All the while Courtney would sporadically let out some short high pitched squeals.

At some point her squeals turned into moaning. I don’t know when.

My eyes were finally pulled from where we were connected when Courtney grabbed my hands, and pulled them up to her tits. I remember seeing her tits bouncing as she put my hands on them, and I remember seeing the bottom of her chin as her head was back, facing the ceiling.

It took me a bit, but eventually I realized that I could feel the boobs in my hands. I started rubbing them, weighing them, feeling her nipples – simply exploring the first pair of boobs my hands had ever been on. As I started playing with her boobs, Courtney started moaning more loudly, and I watched as she brought a hand between her legs. At the time I was confused and didn’t pay attention, returning my gaze to the boobs I was playing with. In retrospect, I of course know that she started rubbing her clit as she fucked me – she apparently had learned about masturbation before that day. It was while she was doing this though that her hand brushed against my dick, and I realized that I could feel my dick too.

My hands dropped from her boobs soon after as Courtney started speeding up on my dick, her moans now smitten with gasps, along with some of her high pitched squeals. A feeling that was totally new to me started building up, and I closed my eyes trying to understand what was happening. Unfortunately, I didn’t have much time to worry about it as Courtney slammed her hips down on me and her rapidly moving hand dropped to her side as she let out a scream above her like I’d never heard.

But that scream I barely noticed.

The new feelings building up in me were beyond control. I hadn’t quite realized how incredible the up and down motion on my dick felt until it stopped. And I wasn’t ready for it to stop. Without realizing it, my hips started rapidly thrusting up into Courtney as she continued screaming and pressing down against me. Time seemed to go in slow motion as my hips seemed to move of their own accord in fast forward. I couldn’t tell you how long I was going at it, but I can tell you that Courtney’s screaming turned to gasps which turned into throaty wheezes that could only be described as a fight for air.

Then my back arched and my hips thrust so hard up that they lifted Courtney off the bed as I experienced the first ejaculation of my life.

And I wish I knew what happened after that.

To the best of what I can figure out, I must have blacked out.

I woke up some time later. At first I thought I had passed out when I’d gotten home and dreamed the whole thing. Then I saw that I was in fact still naked on my bed, my clothes laying on the floor where Courtney had left them. Two other things were even more telling. First, the smell of sex permeating the room. Second, the dampness left on my now very limp and very small penis. There were also traces of blood left on and around it.

I freaked out seeing the blood and raced to the bathroom to take a shower to clean it off. At first I worried that I had hurt Courtney, but sometime in the course of my shower I remembered Courtney saying the girls were told they might bleed their first time having sex in their sex ed talk. I made myself think it was normal, though it still seemed weird to me.

Not that the rest of the situation didn’t seem weird to me too. Awesome, yes, but definitely weird.

After my shower, I could barely walk in my room it smelled so bad. Well, not bad. I kinda liked the smell, but it was very strong, and I was worried about my parents smelling it. I checked the time, and noting I still had an hour and a half before my parents got back, I took my sheets off and ran them to the washer. I sprayed air freshener all over my room too. By the time my parents got back, I was dressed, my sheets were cleaned and back on my bed, and my room smelled normal, if not a little strongly of the air freshener. However, my parents never suspected a thing.

The next morning when I was getting changed for school, I found a pair of plain white cotton panties, obviously Courtney’s, in my underwear drawer. I never saw them the day before as she had pulled them down with her jeans, so I don’t know what they looked like on her, but I could imagine.

Two things changed after that day.

First, I started masturbating on a near daily basis.

Second, Courtney and I stopped talking.

Courtney didn’t call me for the rest of eighth grade. I never found out what happened to her, why she left without saying a thing, or why she put her panties in my underwear drawer. I was too scared to call her to find out or to ask her in school. And with her not calling me, that didn’t leave any options.

I assumed that Courtney didn’t want me to tell anyone though, so I didn’t. Not that anyone would’ve believed me if I’d said anything. We still saw each other in classes occasionally, but we acted like we always did – like we didn’t know each other. Basically, she took my virginity then disappeared from my life.




Morning

I fought my way through the morning. I got the kids through three lessons with a thankful period of gym breaking that up. During the lessons, I tried to call on all of my students. As usual though, I failed. I just couldn’t call on Meghan. And today was worse than usual. It must’ve been the dread of the upcoming meeting.

Usually when I looked at Meghan I saw visions of fifth grade Courtney naked. I wish I could say I had gotten used to it three months into the year, but I never did. It still freaked me out just as much as it did on day one. But today was worse, and it got worse as the morning went on. Every time I laid eyes on Meghan that morning, it was like her body transformed before me, changing from fifth grade Courtney to sixth grade Courtney to eighth grade Courtney.

At its worst, I saw her as eighth grade Courtney dropping to her knees before me undoing my pants. I jumped backwards and turned around. I felt beads of sweat on my face. One of the kids asked if I was okay. I lied and said I just suddenly felt very sick. I gave the class a worksheet to work on, telling them they could work with partners so as to avoid complaining.

I went to my desk and sat down, popping a couple Advil from my desk, as if that was going to help. I flipped through pages of a bunch of workbooks, trying to look busy to the students, though I was really just trying to get Meghan, and thus Courtney, off my mind. Every now and then I would look at the class, but I completely avoided eye contact with Meghan. I decided I wouldn’t look at her for the rest of the day and hope for the best.

I had never been so happy when it came time to drop the class off for lunch.




High School

The summer after eighth grade passed slowly. Courtney, much to my dismay, did not strike up our usual summer friendship. I got together with soccer friends occasionally throughout the summer, but I spent most of it alone, including a week-long soccer camp and a family camping vacation.

As ninth grade began, I quickly realized that I didn’t get to see Courtney at all. We had no classes together and she hung out mostly with juniors and seniors, so she was never around in the ninth grade hallways. To this day I don’t know if that was a good or bad thing. It was good in that it should have forced me to think about other things and kind of get over her, to give up my hopes that she would come back to me and maybe go out with me. It was bad in that, well, I didn’t stop thinking about her. I maintained my dreams that she would come back to me. Maybe it would’ve been better if she had been around so that I could face rejection on a regular basis, hopefully more effectively forcing me to get over her. Then again, maybe that would’ve just made things worse.

Ninth grade passed slowly and blandly. To distract myself from thinking about Courtney, I started focusing intently on my schoolwork and soccer, spending more time on both. I was barely an average student going into ninth grade, but I was a little above average by the end, and my soccer skills were starting to impress the varsity coach, who had to put me on the team, despite my height.

The summer after ninth grade passed as slowly and lonely as the summer before. I rarely got together with friends, and went to two different soccer camps as a form of escape.

Tenth grade passed much the same, with one slight change. I finally hit my real growth spurt. I went from five foot two at the beginning of the year to five foot eight at the end of the year. Due to the growth spurt, some girls started taking notice of me. A couple of them, while not directly asking me out on a date, asked me to some of the home football games. One of them I went with. Unfortunately, I saw Courtney for the first time since ninth grade there, cheerleading throughout the game. And I couldn’t keep my eyes or mind off of her. I never went to another game, and mostly ignored the girls showing interest in me, still unable to pull away emotionally from Courtney, who clearly had forgotten about me.

The summer after tenth grade passed even more slowly and more lonely than the summer before. I barely saw any of my friends, spending most of it at home on a summer soccer league or at a variety of soccer camps.

By eleventh grade, I had stopped growing at five foot eleven. But while I was now feeling completely physically mature, I was losing friends. I must have come off as sad and boring when my friends were around me, so they rarely spent time with me. Not that people didn’t like me, they just didn’t spend as much time with me. While most of my friends would go out dating and partying, I didn’t take part in any of that. I wasn’t interested in dating anyone but Courtney. After knowing her for so long, I couldn’t accept that she was just gone, especially after our last meeting. I was clearly in a clinical depression, not wanting to be social at all, distracting myself the only way I knew how – academics and athletics. I put all my focus into school and soccer at the avoidance of everything else. I was quickly becoming the best player on the varsity team, especially since my growth spurt, and my grades had me in the top thirty of my two hundred person class.

Then it happened again.

It was a Saturday night, the first weekend of November, my junior year. Nothing special was going on that I know of.

I woke up to a quick but light screeching sound. I had had problems sleeping since the beginning of high school – it wasn’t unusual for me to wake up in the middle of the night unable to go back to sleep. So I ignored the sound and just rolled towards my clock, seeing that it was shortly after two in the morning.

Then I heard something fall towards the other side of my room.

I quickly sat up and turned over, seeing a figure in the darkness pulling their back leg through my window. The person was bumping against my dresser and must’ve knocked something off.

“What the fuck,” I announced, for some reason more confused than worried.

The response was a long, drunkenly slurred, “Shhhhhhhhhh, Johnny.”

My heart started racing and my mind went blank as I heard the voice. While the person finally got their leg inside the window and turned towards me, I simply asked, “Courtney?”

There was a drunken laugh as she kicked her shoes off and walked towards my bed. While giggling, she excitedly responded, “Yup!”

By the time she said that, she was standing at the side of my bed, undoing her pants. I sat in my bed in a state of complete shock. She pulled her pants down and off. I found my voice as Courtney started pulling her shirt over her head. “What are you doing here?”

Courtney was having trouble getting her shirt over her head. She started to respond but with her shirt over her head covering her mouth, I couldn’t understand it. Apparently trying to talk and take off a shirt was too hard for the drunken girl as she fell to my floor. I quickly leaned over my bed, just in time to see her get the shirt off. She was lying there on the floor, one knee bent up and the other bent to the side, leaning back on her arms in just her matching bra and panties, which I could see through the thin light both had a lace design on them. I think they were red, but I wouldn’t swear to it in that lighting.

Looking down at her, I took in her body. Courtney was about five foot seven now, making me about four inches taller than her. She was a bit thinner than I remembered, her hips less shapely and the bottom of her rib cage slightly more visible than I remembered it. Yet even in the drunken mess she was in on the floor, her hair thrown all about her head, she still appeared to me as the absolute vision of beauty.

Looking up to me, Courtney finally responded to my question. “I need to have sex.”

While much more slurred, the statement was just as blunt as the, “I want to try sex,” from three years earlier.

I simultaneously got aroused and even more confused. I just responded, “So you came here?”

Courtney climbed up onto my bed as she drunkenly replied, “Of course!”

“But we haven’t even talked in three years!”

Courtney had pulled herself onto my bed in a sitting position. At my comment, she looked at me with what looked to be a terrified look on her face. Her body froze, losing the drunken shaking she had had up to that point, as she very sincerely-sounding asked, “You will fuck me, won’t you?”

I don’t know if there was any chance I would refuse otherwise, but there certainly wasn’t a chance with the look on her face. Courtney had always been the one in charge when we were friends, always the one who knew what to do, I had never seen her look as worried or scared as she did at that moment. Any sense of logic flew out of my head as Courtney stared at me with that look on her face.

“Of course,” I replied, smiling kindly at her.

Courtney immediately broke into a smile and yelled out, “Yaaaaay!” She nearly jumped forward, tackling me back onto my bed. I didn’t know what to say, her laying on top of me smiling broadly down at me. I felt her hand snake down in between our bodies, sliding under the sheets and finally under my shorts and boxers as she grabbed my rock hard dick. She seemed surprised when she grabbed my dick, and looked down, though there was no way she could see anything, given the only light in the room was my alarm clock next to my bed. After a second, she looked back up at me smiling.

“You’re a big boy now, aren’t you?”

I wasn’t sure what to say, but the mere feeling of her hand on my dick was incredible, so I simply responded, “I guess so.” I didn’t think I was that big, about six, maybe six and a half inches long, and I had always thought I had a skinny dick in high school, but I wasn’t going to complain if she thought it was big. It was certainly bigger than the last time she’d touched it.

Courtney shot back saying, “You guess so, huh?” and smiling broadly. She then started rubbing my dick up and down. I immediately started moaning, trying to keep it quiet so as to not wake my parents a couple rooms down the hall (I was kinda surprised they hadn’t woken up earlier when Courtney had yelled).

This didn’t last for too long, which was probably good as the shock of the whole situation had gotten me close to orgasm quickly. Courtney pulled her hand up, sat to the side, and threw the sheets off the bed. She pulled my shirt over my head, with a little help from me sitting up, then ripped my shorts and boxers off my legs, me lifting my hips to help. Courtney then got up on her knees, pulled her panties to her knees, then possibly on purpose, fell forward across my body, her head holding her up on one side of my body while she lifted herself onto her feet on the other end of my body and pulled her panties down to her feet. She then maneuvered herself into a sitting position again where she pulled her panties off her feet. She then moved to straddle me and lowered herself until she was sitting on me, her hot hairy pussy resting along the shaft of my hard dick, as she tried to unhook her bra. While not even inside her, the feeling of the heat of her cunt pressed against my dick set me off moaning, and I felt myself getting closer to orgasm as she shifted around trying to get her bra unhooked.

Luckily, in her drunkenness, Courtney had trouble with it. After a minute or so of frustration, Courtney twisted around, straddling my chest and facing my feet. She turned her head to look at me over her shoulder and said, “Take off my bra, I can’t get it.”

I smiled up at her and brought my hands up to the clasp of her bra. I had never unhooked a bra but I figured it couldn’t be that hard. Courtney, or course, didn’t make it easy, as she reached down and began to stroke my dick again as I tried to take off her bra. I started moaning as I found the clasp. I had trouble at first, but I put all my focus on the clasp, trying futilely to ignore the feelings on my dick.