Only ever popped off premature once. Never had a wet dream, which I kinda regret. Never came in my pants.

I had a friend who did though, while we were watching an old Swedish Erotica clip at a bachelor party back in the day. Back then you still needed a screen and a projector. Pat had never had a real girlfriend, had never gotten a handful, not sure he’d even kissed a girl. The movie was on and we were all shouting at it like we knew what we were talking about. Sticks in my mind that it was an old Seka loop (this was the early 80s) and she was about to get it in the ass. Just as the heavily-mustachioed ‘hero’, parted the posterior of his equally hairy companion, you heard Pat say, “Oh no. Oh no. Oh no! Fuck!” and off he rushed. We teased him unmercifully, although we were no doubt hard as stone as well.

It started out as an easy day. Kansas in the summer. Hot in the morning. Hottest in the afternoon. Hot all night. I finished mowing the lawn and was walking down the to gas station for a ‘pop’. There were girls and young women laying out on a couple of lawns taking advantage of the morning sun. To a youngster like me, it was like viewing heaven and I was hard all the way to the pop machine and back. But you’d better believe I took the same route home.

The swimming pool opened at 1 and I spent the day at the pool. More swimsuits and sun-tanned flesh. Bikinis. One pieces. Lifeguards. Our regular lifeguard was a beauty named Julie and she had this light pink bikini that I could describe to you still. It was almost transparent enough for you to believe that it was. To this day though, I’m sure I could describe her patch to you, so maybe it was more transparent than I remember. Fuck. Hard off and on all afternoon and all the way home on my bicycle.

Home in time for dinner. No time to jerk off. Talk about a build-up. Looking back at it now, if I knew then what I know now, I would have assumed that if I came at that moment, I’d be completely dehydrated.

That evening I had to work at the concession stand at the local ball diamond. Softball double-header. There were usually of couple younger people, like me, and a couple of older people. That evening one of the teachers from the local elementary school was on. Mrs. Barker. We used to sit up in my buddy’s old treehouse and watch her sunbathe on her deck, which she thought was invisible to the rest of the world, so she sunbathed naked. She didn’t know about the treehouse. Man. Every time I brushed against her that evening, and it wasn’t always an accident, I was hard. Being as old as I am now, I wish it was still that easy.

I was so amped-up and so miserably horny that I rushed out before we were done cleaning up. Fumbled some excuse about not feeling well and bolted.

There was this little bathhouse just past the outfield, but the man was locking it up so I ran over the bridge over the creek and started through the trees to head up the hill to this little shelter, an old, stone, WPA-built picnic shelter thats table was long since gone. I knew that all it would take was a few strokes and I’d be fine.

My cock was banging up against my belly and I could feel each step in my balls as I ran. I was picturing Julie without her bikini and Mrs. Barker without her shorts and t-shirt. I was picturing those young women on the lawn asking me to join them. I was picturing all kinds of things as I rounded the corner into that picnic shelter and dropped my shorts.

And there, like a live-action porno movie, three feet from me, was a guy I knew from the local mechanic shop where my folks had always taken their car to be serviced.

I can still picture it. Like me, his shorts were down. Kneeling in front of him was Tina, someone I knew a little but we didn’t run with the same crowd so I didn’t know her well. She was a mousey, quiet type, lean and angular, with a bookworm’s reputation and who had never gone to school dances when we were in the same school.

She was wearing cut off denim shorts, flip flops, and a softball jersey. The jersey was unbuttoned and pulled back and I could see the curve of her breasts. I could also see Junior’s calloused, mechanic’s fingers were tangled in her hair and it was obvious that his cock was in her mouth to the root. Her hands were wrapped around his waist and were clutching at his ass.

He looked up and grunted, “What the fuck? Hey! Val! Hey!”

The one of her eyes that I could see met mine and she went down a little further on what must have been a very hard cock. I didn’t actually see her grin but I’ve always felt like she did.

And then, like my friend Pat, I stuttered, “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!”

I can’t begin to tell you how much I came. I didn’t touch myself and no one touched me. But I came all the same. Long, ropey streams of which I can still picture. I hit her softball jersey, her hair, his hand, her face, his leg, and the tops of her thighs.

“WHAT THE FUCK!”

Bobbing down quick, I grabbed the waistbands of my shorts and underpants and yanking them up over my still dripping, still hard cock, I muttered, “Oh hey! Hey, Junior. Tina. Sorry!” And I ran.

That night at home, in bed, with the lights out, I came again. And again the next day. That night I made a call.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Is Tina there?”

“Yeah, Tiiiiiiiiina! Get your ass over here! Phone’s for you!”

“Hello?”

“Hey, Tina, it’s Val, I was wondering . . . “

“No. I’m not busy tonight. Whatcha got in mind?”

“Ummmmm, maybe we could . . . “

“Sure. Pick me up at 8?”

“I . . . “

She’d already hung up.

I rolled my old Ford up to her house a few minutes early and she was already on the porch. Dressed exactly the same as last night. Might even have been the same softball jersey.

“Hey, Val!”

“Hey.

“Junior’s pretty pissed at you. You know why, right?”

“Because I came on his hand?”

“Because you came on his hand. And his shorts. And his leg. And then you ran off.”

“What were you doing with Junior, anyway?”

“He has a nice dick.”

“He’s twice your age.”

“He has a nice dick.”

“I didn’t know you were into that.”

“Into what? Sex? Older guys? Dick? I like dick and it likes me.”

“I guess I just didn’t know.”

“I keep my head down and my mouth shut. That’s how bad reputations get started.”

I laughed. “You do NOT keep your mouth shut!”

“And you’ll know exactly how much I don’t, as long as you keep yours shut. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Powerful, she takes it to him! True story too!!! Was found clutching his severed genitals

I sat at our little high-top table near the back of the crowded bar, nursing my whiskey and watching Christine like I always did — with that perfect mix of pride and hunger. It was New Year’s Eve, the place packed with people laughing, music thumping, lights flashing. She looked unbelievable in that black dress she’d picked out just for tonight  DRESS — the one in the photo you just saw. The deep V-neck plunged between her full breasts, the lace panels on the sides teasing glimpses of skin, and the scalloped hem barely reached mid-thigh. Every guy in the place had noticed her, but she was mine… at least until she wasn’t.Around 11:45 she leaned over, kissed my cheek, and said, “I’m going to grab us another round, babe. Be right back.” I watched her weave through the crowd toward the bar, hips swaying in that tight dress, long brown hair cascading down her back, black glasses perched on her nose. She looked so classy yet so fucking sexy.I lost sight of her for a minute in the throng, then spotted her at the bar. Some tall, good-looking guy in a crisp button-up shirt had slid in beside her. He was confident, smiling, saying something that made her laugh — that bright, genuine laugh I love. They started talking. He bought the drinks. I could see her body language shift: she tilted her head, touched her hair, leaned in a little closer. My stomach tightened, but my cock twitched too. I knew that look.Then the music changed to something slow and sultry. He offered his hand. She glanced back toward our table for half a second… then took it. They moved onto the dance floor, right in my line of sight. He pulled her in close — closer than a stranger should. Her arms went around his neck. His hands started on her waist, then slowly drifted lower. I watched his palms slide over the curve of her ass, squeezing gently at first, then more boldly as she didn’t pull away. She pressed her body against him, her breasts crushed to his chest, that deep cleavage on full display. They swayed together like they were the only two people in the room. His fingers traced the lace edges of her dress, dipping under the hem just a little. Her head rested on his shoulder, eyes half-closed. I could see her biting her lip.The countdown started. Ten… nine… eight… The whole bar roared along. At midnight the room exploded with cheers, confetti, kisses everywhere. But my eyes were locked on them. He tilted her chin up with one hand, and they kissed — deep, hungry, tongues clearly involved. Not a polite New Year’s peck. A full-on make-out, his hand still firmly on her ass, pulling her tighter. She kissed him back just as hard. My heart hammered. I was rock hard in my jeans.When the song ended he took her hand and led her toward the side door. They slipped out together before I could even stand up.A couple minutes later my phone buzzed. A text from Christine: “Hey babe, stepped out for a quick smoke. Be right back! Love you ❤️”Ten minutes passed. No sign of her. I finished my drink, heart pounding, and headed outside.The night air was cold. I stepped out the side door and froze. There they were, maybe thirteen feet away under the dim glow of a security light. Their backs were mostly to me. His arm was wrapped around her waist, hand resting possessively on the curve of her ass, fingers gently kneading. They were finishing their cigarettes, heads close, whispering and laughing softly together like old lovers. She looked so comfortable against him. Then he pulled her in and they kissed again — slow, deep, his other hand sliding up her back.I stepped back into the shadows by the door so they wouldn’t see me. My breath caught as they laced their fingers together and started walking, heading down toward the darker end of the building where a narrow alley ran between the bar and the next building.I waited a minute or two, pulse racing, then followed cautiously, staying in the shadows.The alley was pitch black except for one dim yellow light mounted on the brick wall about halfway down. I moved forward slowly, ears straining. I heard soft moans, the rustle of fabric, heavy breathing.I crept closer, heart slamming against my ribs, and finally saw them.Christine’s back was pressed against the cold brick wall, right under that single light. The tall stranger had her pinned there, his body flush against hers. His hands gripped her hips tightly, fingers digging into the lace of her dress. He was kissing her neck — slow, open-mouthed kisses, sucking and licking the sensitive skin just below her ear. Her head was tilted back, eyes closed, lips parted in a silent moan. One of her hands was in his hair, the other clutching his shoulder. The front of her dress had been tugged lower; one breast was nearly spilling out.I stayed hidden in the deeper shadows, cock throbbing painfully as I watched my wife give herself over to this stranger in a filthy alley on New Year’s Eve.His hands slid down, bunching the short hem of her dress up around her waist. I saw the flash of her black lace panties before his fingers slipped inside them. She gasped loudly, hips bucking against his hand as he started fingering her right there. “Oh fuck…” she whimpered — loud enough for me to hear. He kept kissing and biting her neck, whispering something dirty that made her moan louder.Then she dropped to her knees in the alley dirt, right in front of him. I watched her unzip his pants with eager hands, pull his hard cock out, and take him into her mouth — deep, sloppy, enthusiastic. Her head bobbed, glasses fogging up, saliva glistening on her lips. He groaned, tangling his fingers in her long brown hair, guiding her.After a few minutes he pulled her back up, spun her around so her hands were braced on the wall, and hiked her dress all the way up. He yanked her panties down just enough, spread her legs, and thrust into her from behind in one smooth motion. Christine cried out in pleasure, pushing back against him. He fucked her hard and deep against that brick wall — the wet sounds of it echoing in the alley, her moans getting louder and more desperate with every thrust. Her breasts bounced free of the dress now, nipples hard in the cold night air. He reached around to rub her clit while pounding into her, and I watched her whole body shake as she came hard, biting her lip to try to stay quiet.He didn’t stop. He kept fucking her through it, faster, until he groaned and buried himself deep, filling her as he came.They stayed like that for a long moment, breathing hard, his cock still inside her, kissing lazily over her shoulder.I slipped back into the shadows before they could notice me, my own cock aching, mind spinning with everything I’d just witnessed.Christine eventually straightened her dress, fixed her hair, and gave him one last deep kiss. Then she started walking back toward the bar… back toward me.I beat her inside, sat down at our table like nothing had happened, heart still racing.When she slid back into her seat a minute later, flushed and glowing, she smiled at me innocently and said, “Miss me?”I just smiled back, knowing exactly what had just happened… and already wondering if she’d tell me later — or if this would be our dirty little secret forever

This girl lived next door to me and was really into me. She would always invite me over to play wither her Xbox360 and her PS3-she always had the latest releases. After a few months I got bored of her always trying to get me to make out with her.

I told her if she wanted to be my girlfriends she would next to gain weight as I like big girls. Every day she would eat about 6 Twinkes, 4 Ho-Ho's, 2 cans of Pringles, and a family size bag of Fritos.

She would cry and say she was feeling so disgusting but I would say: "you want to be my girlfriend right?" She would sniffle: ye..ye...yes" then eat some Pringles.

When Modern Warfare was released I hurried over to her house excited to play the game. Upon approach I saw paramedics taking her away on a stretcher. She was unconcious and I saw clutched in her hand a Hostess Ding Dong.

I went home and was so afraid the police detectives would go door to door trying to find clues adn charge me with involuntary manslaughter.

Hi guys, long time reader, first time poster.

I confess just the other day I achieved intercourse with a teenager. I wrote out how it happened for your fapping pleasure. Before the trolls arrive, I will not post pics or vids, as I enjoy banging this girl, and will not likely enjoy getting banged by Bubba if I ever got caught. Yes this is a true story.

I have changed our names to protect both of our identities.

***

I had arranged to meet Beth before the group gathering. Tonight is the youth group's Christmas banquet, and she thinks that she's coming in a bit early to get in some photographs.

Well, she is. I told her that I'd like to send some proofs to a modelling agency, and that I need a model to work with. She was flattered and more than willing to comply. Beth is a simple country girl, homeschooled. I asked her once about her schooling, if she learns about biology, physics, math, if her mom is really capable of teaching it. Turns out there's lots that she doesn't get taught.

I really wanted to know how much she knew about sex, and a general sex-education in highschool would include STDs, so I ask her if she's ever heard of chlamydia. She answers, "It's pronounced clematis, and it's a viney plant with white flowers." No sex-ed.

When she arrives, she's wearing a stunning crimson red dress. It hugs her curves. It's strapless, and shows the top of her cleavage, and shows more than half her thighs. The best part of the dress is the zipper up the front--it goes from top to bottom, and there's a zipper head on each end. She's let the heads run a couple of inches from the hem on both ends. She weighs maybe 100 pounds, this dress shows off her perfect legs and ass like nothing else.

Her blonde hair is up in a fancy kind of bun, with long strands dangling down. She isn't wearing any stockings and her legs are smooth and white, and wears a mid-calf-high leather boot, with heals. She's about 5'2" usually, with the boot maybe 5'4". For a 15 year old homeschooler, she has sex appeal down.

"Come right in!" I motion her into the studio I have set up. The studio is in the same building as the banquet, where this youth group meets. She wasn't warned, but I have three high-definition video cameras in the room--one at front, one at side, and one in the opposite corner, close to the ceiling. I intend to revisit this appointment in my mind many times, and the recorded video will help.

"So, today we're going to take a few shots and get them submitted to a modelling studio, to get their feedback on my photography technique. Ready?"

"Sure", she answers with a hesitance, "But what's the video cameras for?" She motions to the obvious cameras.

"Don't pay them any mind, they are for my own purpose. Just ignore them!" I keep cheery and focused, not gonna let this get derailed. I flick on the three high-wattage flood lamps and get some lighting going.

Beth sits on the provided couch. It's a slouchy couch that I selected exactly for that reason. She sits on it and immediately loses balance. Her arms and legs all go out to rebalance, and I get a glimpse of everything wonderful. Perfect "little girl" white cotton panties. And you know damn straight I caught a few clicks, nevermind the video.

"Whew! I almost fell right over!" She wiggles to sit upright. I get her in a few positions: upright, laying on her belly, laying on her back, standing in front of the couch, standing on the couch. A couple of favorites: I got one where she is laying on her belly, and she is facing the camera, head propped up on hands, with elbows to the floor and her knees apart and feet up towards her head. What a glorious view for the camera behind her; on the couch, laying on her back, she has her two hands almost cupping her breasts, pursed lips facing the camera, and her one leg straight and the other upright and bent. God I love her legs.

A couple of times I glimpsed her panties again, and made an "Oops!" kind of sound, so as to play innocent with her. It was obvious that it didn't *really* bother her, and she wasn't ever really embarrassed that it had happened.

Half an hour has passed and I probably have 100 photos, all very excellent. She loves the attention and follows every suggestion.

"Beth, have you ever been tanning?" She's white like my bed linens.

"No, Mom and Dad have me working the greenhouse and I don't get out to go to school, so not really."

"Your skin is very white, can we try something?" She nods. "Come sit on the couch."

I put down the camera and walk up to face her sitting on the couch, and put my hands on her calves just above her boots.

"If we rub your skin a little bit, they'll get a bit of color. Like a little bit red. Are you ticklish?" She shakes her head no.

It was a lie, that her skin should change color. There's no real truth behind it, but it was a lie based on truth: she doesn't like how white her skin is, and I want to touch her. I put my hands on her calf, right above the boot, and drag my fingertips in small circles, over her knee and up to her lower thighs.

She giggles, and doesn't protest. Her skin has changed color though, on her face; she is flushed.

I pull up her chin to look up at me standing in front of her, and do the same to her cheeks, her forehead, her nose, ears and behind the ears. When I got behind her ears, she closed her eyes and leaned in, so I took my time moving on. I tickled her hair, her neck, and moved to her shoulders. "Sit forward", I tell her.

She moves to the front edge of the couch, and I step on the couch to get behind her, then sit behind her with one leg on either side. "Now sit back." Her full weight is leaned against me, and if she knew what a hard-on was, she would feel mine pressed right against her lower back.

I continue massage tickling her shoulders, down her arms, and get back to her neck and ears. She lets out a soft moan and says "That feels really relaxing."

"And it's working too, your skin is changing color." There's no mirror for her to see, so I think she has to take my word for it. "I need to get every inch of your skin, so you're going to have to trust me." She doesn't react, or speak or flinch or anything, so I take my turn.

I casually make continuing tickle circles down her shoulders, to her collarbone, back to her neck, just beyond her collarbone. Her skin is so smooth, and without blemish, and she is totally relaxed and pressing her weight into me. Eventually I reach the hem of her dress, and am massaging her breasts. It's not a fondle or a cupping, but the same tickling. They're so tender, and they almost feel hot to the touch, but that might be in my head.

I continue to tickle up and down her chest, from hem up to neck and ears, and back down again. If she had any reason to be suspicious of foul play, it could be because I would be massaging this part of her body for 10 minutes alone. I even made sure to reach in under her dress a tiny bit, where the zipper head has been let down a bit. And when she didn't protest about that, I let slip in my fingers just under the hem of her dress, right onto her covered breasts. It's tight-fitting, so I don't insist on getting them in, just a bit of foreshadowing for her to think about.

"How are you doing?" I ask her, softly. "Mmmhmm" She responds without words, and I think she slouches a bit. I remember the camera that is facing the couch, and that it probably has a nice view of her crotch right now. OH! Her crotch..

I reach one hand down to her knee, and start massaging there, while the other tickled its way down the front of her dress. Agains she never protests that I ran my hand over her breast, over her belly, pressing in every step of the way. When both of my hands are on her knees, I start to do a drag kind of tickle, straight lines on her thighs, inside, on top, outside. And repeat, each time getting closer to the hem of her dress. Inside her thighs, on top of her thighs, outside of her thighs. Up and down. Repeat.

As I reach the hem of her dress, on my next pass I make a subtle gesture for her to part her legs, I just sort of push her knees a bit outwards. On my next trip up, I am not only inside her thighs, but reaching all the way down to the back of her thighs.

"Beth, do you still trust me?"

"Oh, yes!" She answers almost as a plea. "Put your hands on the back of my head." She reaches around, and clasps her hands on the back of my neck. At the same time I am continuing my upward travel to the hem of her dress, which has no risen because her legs are parted. Very gently, raking my fingers over the insides of her thighs I can feel the warmth that comes from the prize at the end of the road..

Then it happened, my thumbs caught the slightest glance of cotton--her panties. I almost froze it was so unexpected. I mean, I was going there, that's what I wanted, but now that I had arrived I was caught in fear.

"Are you done?" She asks. Her hands are rubbing my head, and she's almost squirming in my hands, as though to try to provoke me to continue.

"Not unless you are", I answer. She relaxes again, and sighs. She wants it.

Now, I pick up her one leg with both hands, and hook it on the outside of my knee. She complies and does her other leg for me. Now spread wide open, she leans her head on my shoulder, and for the first time I notice her breathing--it's quite heavy, she is silently panting.

So I work my way up from her knees, tickling her thighs, knowing that this time I will touch her, and there's no going back.

Every inch closer, she breathes another heavy sigh, I can feel her tensing her whole body, gripping and pulling my hair with her hands. Finally, with my thumbs, I feel the cotton again, and I rake up against it, making circles again.

Then, I hold my hands steady on either side of her panties, just millimetres from her crotch, and, holding my own breath, with my right thumb, gently press into the cotton. At first, light as a feather, and when I'm done, with enough pressure that Beth is squealing. She has never been touched like this.

I start to stroke my thumb up and down the cotton, where her pussy lips divide. It is so hot, and there is considerable friction from how wet she is. Beth is moaning with every exhale.

With the rest of my hands, I grip her under her thighs, right around to her ass, still stroking her very damp panties. She is almost pulling my hair out, writhing in ecstasy, moaning louder with every breath.

I move one hand from her thigh back to her chest, and stroke heavily her chest and neck and ear, and cup her clothed breast. I slow my stroking--I'd like to change pace, but don't want to disappoint her.

Now cupping her vagina and her breast, I just hold her tight, pressing her back against me. Breathing silently, but heavily, she finally speaks.

"Oh my God, Andrew. That is incredible. That feels so good. I don't want you to stop."

"Let's skip the banquet, eh? What do you say?" I have my eyes on the prize, and want to seal the deal. We're only a few rooms away, but nobody knows we're here, and we could stay all night. The banquet starts in about 30 minutes.

"Well.." she pauses. It's clear she wants to go.

"Ok, I tell you what. Let's stay here for a little while longer, go to the banquet, then come back. I promise you won't regret it." Beth is obviously excited.

"Andrew?" She asks. "I want more."

"Let me give it to you then." I slide out from behind her, thankful for a chance to breathe and give my own boner some space. She's now slouching right back against the couch, with her ass on the front edge.

I kneel down in front of her, and reach up her thighs, and under her (now unzipped) dress, grasping both sides of her panties at her waist. She lifts her ass a little and with a quick tug I have them at her ankles, then over her boots.

I look up and see in her full glory: perfect shapely thighs, knees slightly parted, and a perfect, swollen, parted and glistening wet pussy. She has a dirty-blonde patch of hair in a neat little V-shape above her labia, then a perfect hairless stomach.

"If you want to prove to me you're ready for this, then you'll have to leave these behind." The look of shock on her face, as a twirl her panties around my index finger, is priceless. I'm going to make this sweet innocent girl the hottest fuck toy there ever was.

She bites her bottom lip, looks up to a corner of her eye and finally nods to agree.

I can't tell you how precious a sight that is: I am knelt before her, panties in hand, her dress unzipped almost to her naval, legs slightly parted, red and swollen pussy in plain sight, sweat running down her face and hair plastered down, and now this look of mischief, of innocence lost, of lust across her face�

I rub my hands from her knees to her waist, on the outside of her thighs a few times, gradually working inwards. She's now looking into my eyes while I do it, and every time I get closer to her pussy her smile cracks even wider. Just as my hands are about to make contact, she closes her eyes and arches her back, but I stop, lean in, and blow a gentle breeze right over her swollen clitoris.

"OH GOD!" She nearly screams. Her hands reach out and behind her, looking for something to clutch.

The smell is invigorating. She has told me before about how her parents are "all-natural" eaters. She's clearly not on her period or ovulating. Just a clean, salty-sweet scent of lust.

I lay a few gentle kisses on her abdomen, then where her abs and legs meet, then a couple right up inside her thigh�

"Andrew are you going to�" She can't even finish the question.

I kiss her right on the clitoris. Then her labia. Then her pubic hair. My hands are rubbing up and down the inside of her thighs, and I lay my tongue flat across her lips and stroke up towards her clit.

"Mmmm� Oh that feels really good." Beth is moaning again with every breath. With one hand I rub her on her pubic hair, and up her belly, then under her dress until I reach her breast. To my amazement and delight, she doesn't wear a bra with this dress and I have in my hand her naked, erect nipple. Her breast is hardly bigger than a handful, a B-cup if I had to guess.

As I roll her nipple between thumb and finger, she starts jerking her body, throwing her back against the couch, then forward, legs up, then down. My other hand has now hooked a finger in between her lips, and it is soaking wet. I've been almost constantly licking and chewing her lit, and as you all know she is in an elongated state of climax.

I can tell that this wave of climax is near finished, so I start to let her down gently. My hand on her breast moves to her back, so that I'm holder her around her waist, I start licking slowly and broadly her lips and thighs, and my other hand is holder her behind her knee.

"Beth, I told you that we could make your skin look a little redder!" Her face is totally flush, and her crotch is bright red and swollen.

"Wow", is all she can muster.

Holding her tight, I move my head out of her lap, then let go, leaning up and in towards her face. She's looking into my eyes and watching me come close. Then I grab her by the back of her head, and kiss her right on her lips. She is clearly caught off guard, kissing like this is much more intimate than being orally satisfied.

She almost resists until I show her how to do it -- aha! The difference now isn't that she doesn't want it, but that up until now she has simply done as she was told, and is completely inexperienced. I kiss her top lip, her bottom lip. I lick her top lip, then kiss it again. I see her, in between kisses, licking her own lips, realizing that this is what her pussy tastes like.

I pull her chin down and her mouth open and thrust my tongue onto hers, licking her tongue, pushing and teasing it. Then a couple of gentle kisses again, and I pull back to stand upright.

If she knew to look for a boner, I'd almost be poking her in the face with it. I mean, I'm still fully clothed but holy hell this raging hard-on�

"It's time to get to the banquet if you want to make it in time." I look her in the eyes, turning off the bright, hot lights, and taking in her sweet sight.

She lazily, almost drunkenly stands up, her dress half unzipped and not even on straight anymore. Her hair is a mess, she's obviously been pulling her own hair too. She wiggles her dress and it straightens out, then she zips it fully up and fully down. Then I see her eyeing her panties I left next to the couch.

"Nuh-uh!" I exclaim. "These are mine." I hold them in my hands, and give them a big whif--just more of the same sweet smell I've come to know and love, then stuff them in my slack's back pocket.

Here we are, both of us dressed, we walk out the studio and to the banquet.

All of Beth's friends, and the teenagers I chaperone, are there. All of them all dolled up, wearing big smiles. Naturally the girls and the boys have found themselves on opposite sides of the room, looking and giggling at each other.

"Beth! You look so beautiful!" they all exclaim.

One of them, holding her hands, asks her, "There's something about you, you look different." Beth doesn't answer. "You're glowing!"

I leaned into Beth's ear and whisper, "Told you!" Then walk away, to let her be with her friends.

The next two hours are the longest two hours of my life. I still have her panties in my back pocket, and sat across the room from her; she sat with her back to me. Occasionally, she'll turn to see her friend, to chat with her, and I'll see her long, perfect legs, knowing at the end of them is my sweet, naked pussy.

To be continued...?