First Time and I Got Caught


I'm now 32 but when this happened I was 16. I had just started dating and going out with boys alone. I was on my third or fourth date this night with David. David and I were getting pretty serious with each other as kids our age will sometimes do. 

On this date, we were all over each other all evening. Constantly hugging each other and kissing each other. It was a little after 11 and I had to be home by midnight or else. David was driving me home and I was almost in his lap kissing on him. Before he got to my house, he pulled into this little park alongside a river near my house. We parked and started making out. 

Next thing I knew, David had me down on my back in that front seat of his dad's car and he was on top of me. We ended up with one of my legs between his legs and David ended up pressing himself against it and "humping" my leg. I could easily feel his hard penis rubbing against my thigh. My skirt was up. He was deeply kissing me as this went on. David then came up from the kiss telling me "please Patty. I can't stand it any longer. Please". I asked him what he wanted me to do. He said "oh, please jack me off or something. I've got to cum. I can't take it". I again asked him "what can I do"? I'd never done anything like this to a boy. David reached down and started undoing his pants. He got them down and in the soft light I could make out his big erect penis. He said "please make me cum". 

He took my hand and put it on his hard penis. It felt so hard. He showed me with his hand how to stroke it. I had my hand around it working it when I felt his hands behind my legs pulling me up and then his hands were up inside my panties cupping my butt. His head was back and he was humping his hips over me and saying "please don't stop. Oh, you feel so good. I'm going to cum! Don't stop! I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" and I felt his penis contract and expand and saw this stuff shoot out from it and all over me! I wasn't expecting anything like this. All over my dress. It was real thick and white. David slowly came down from it and laid on top of me catching his breath and thanking me. He then raised up and sat back behind the steering wheel. I raised up and looked at my dress. I was covered with his stuff and had to be home in just a few minutes. 

We headed to my house and I went to my front door just praying mom and dad were in there bedroom listening for my return home. I went in the front door holding my breath. And, there she was. Mom! Sitting in the living room watching TV. She saw me and said "Hi Hon. Did you have__". She saw it and jumped up from her chair walking towards me. "What's that on your dress. I sure hope it isn't what I think it is"! It was fresh and she felt it in her finger tips. She looked at me with fire in her eyes. She then said "you didn't"! 

I just stood there knowing it was useless to lie. Mom very well knew what cum was and what it looked like. She was a married woman and no telling what all she did in her youth with boys. She then said "well, at least it is on you and not IN you! I'll talk to you in the morning, young lady". We both headed to bed and the next day mom and I had some serious talks about the "birds and the bees". And, above all, about that stuff I came home covered with and that thing that put it there.

20:57 Gepost door Pé de Cenoura | Permalink | Commentaren (0) |  Facebook |


A Morning With Jake

I wrote earlier about my husband Jake, and him cumming under a blanket at a football game last fall. I thought I'd write about a more recent experience. 

We have an enclosed patio that opens onto the back gardens. I love to work in the gardens and Jake helps out when his schedule allows. On this particular day, he came downstairs after I was already out. The boys were both gone to school. Jake was home because he'd worked so many long hours he had some comp time. I had slipped out of bed, leaving him sleeping, so he could get some extra rest. 

He thought I had gone to run errands and didn't see me in the side garden, although I could see him. He sat down in his favorite chair, facing out to the back, and looked out. He was just resting there in his run-around-the-house shorts. These are shorts that are very large on him. I bought them big and then put more elastic in the waist so they would fit him. Jake is a normal sized guy at about six foot four inches and 200 pounds. I got these shorts so they would be really loose on him and he has plenty of room for his dick to get hard. His dick is on the large side and he feels squeezed in regular shorts when he gets a hard on. I thought he should have something to wear around the house that makes it easy for him to get his cock out and blow a load if he wants to. 

With these he can pull the loose leg up and let his dick do it's business without having to pull the waistband down. It makes it easy for him to let it fly in the garden if he wants to, even where he might otherwise be visible. There's a bush beside the garage he uses for cover when he needs to blow a load really bad and doesn't think he can make it to the bathroom in the house. When he's wearing these shorts on the weekend it's even easier for him to relieve himself. 

I think one of the reasons Jake likes the garden is that he can shoot his wad all over the place and no one complains. In the morning if he has a piss hardon he sometimes goes outside to relieve himself. He likes to piss through his hard on and then wank off. He says the piss massages it from the inside once he gets it started but getting the stream going is difficult. We're not into golden showers, but I have held his cock while he pissed. It's hard for him to aim his cock to piss in the toilet in the morning if he doesn't shoot his wad before he gets up. If he still has a hard, he will go outside so he can let it fly straight out. I am fascinated by all of this and sometimes watch him from the upstairs window, fingering my clit, knowing when he empties his bladder he will come upstairs and ask if I want to use his peter or if he should wank out his cum. I always want his cock. We have the only two storey house in the neighborhood so we don't have to worry about the neighbors watching him take care of himself. 

We have a privacy fence on both sides of our back yard, although one of them is short enough the neighbors can see into the yard in places. Jake doesn't go to those places when he's taking care of peter business out there, although he has had a couple of accidents where he could be seen. But he hasn't had any problems, so we don't think the neighbors have ever seen him go number one or number three. 

Anyway, on this morning when we were both at home, I just kept working in the garden after I saw him come downstairs. Jake sat down and dozed off. I looked up and noticed his shorts were tented. I couldn't tell because I was too far away, but I was betting they were wet, too. 

I decided to surprise him. I went in the house and sure enough I could see his cock was leaking all over his shorts. I took off my gardening gloves and went over and stood behind his chair. His hands were lying across his shirt holding it down over his shorts. So, I pulled up one leg of his shorts and eased it over his leaking cock. He moaned a little in his sleep but didn't wake up. 

I rubbed my hand down his cock, spreading his wetness down the shaft. I held it tightly and started rubbing up and down. Almost instantly, he let go with a large gob of thick, sticky wetness. I ran my thumb over his pee hole on my next stroke up and spread the wetness down the shaft. 

A few more strokes and he said mmmm and moaned a little. I leaned over and whispered good morning in his ear. I kept stroking his rock hard cock and in less than a minute he said "it's cumming, baby. I'm gonna blow my load. It's huge. I gotta go." He leaned forward and I pointed his cock out in front of him. He hates to cum on himself. With a big grunt he shot a wad of cum out onto the tiled floor. The first shot was followed by four more until he gasped for breath and his dick started going down. There was a string of cum reaching about four feet from the end of his cock to the puddle right under the chair. I kept milking his cock until he stopped letting cum out and I asked if he was finished. 

I knelt between his legs, straddling his cum puddle, and kissed him while his wet cock pressed up against my chest. I dipped my fingers in his puddle and spread his cum on the inside of my thighs. I frigged my clit vigorously and my own cum was soon gushing out. It was just the beginning of a beautiful day together.

20:52 Gepost door Pé de Cenoura | Permalink | Commentaren (0) |  Facebook |


Hello.... Sex-On-Legs!

Sex-on-Legs. That was his nickname for me. I was just 18 then and he was 20. I remember the first time I ever met him in the Student Union bar, sprawled on the floor by the juke box. He wrote to me a few years later asking me if I remembered that first meeting... "......Siobhan Jane, my hat and your hair". Yes, I remembered. He had a trilby hat pushed down over his face which I couldn't decide was utterly pretentious or the height of cool. Siobhan Jane was my first friend at University. An intense, kooky goth who lived in the room next to me. She invited me in my first night to read my tarot cards. It was thanks to her that I met Conor. 

Conor and I started to hang out. I had a boyfriend from home so it all started out innocently enough. Oh, but how I adored him. He was a poet, a philosopher, a Northern Lad with a soul the size of England. It was love and I hadn't got a clue. He used to come over to my all-female hall of residence (he loved that... especially when the fire alarm went off one night at 3am and all these sheepish guys came out with their girlfriends) and we'd lie on my bed watching weird late night TV on my little black and white (Donahue for some reason was our favourite) or French films or we'd listen to Bowie until the wee hours drinking cups of tea. We'd often lie in each others arms and talk and talk and talk and he made me laugh and cry and mostly just think about things. Life. There was a brilliance about him. a spark, a passion that I will never forget. He'd had a breakdown the previous year and dropped out of the university where he'd been. He was a sensitive soul and a Catholic. He worshipped God and the Good Book. 

I broke it off with my boyfriend from home finally. This was into my second term. Conor and I were spending all our time together. He was very left wing, an activist, a singer-songwriter a la Bob Dylan and I used to go busking with him around Liverpool. He'd have his guitar and mouth organ and I'd swing my legs off the nearby railing, watching in awe and pride. We marched together against the poll tax and student loans in 1989. We wrote a song about Thatcher on the bus to London for the march and sang it walking around London. Good times. 

Nothing had happened sexually between us while I had my boyfriend but when I broke it off with him, Conor made a move. We were lying on my tiny, single bed the way we always did when he asked me if he could see my thighs. I laughed and said "if you really want to" and took my jeans off. I was a little shy and wearing boxer shorts for some reason. I used to like wearing my boyfriend's underwear and I kept a few pairs. We lay there and he was smiling at me so excitedly. 'Can I look at them up close?" he asked. "Yeah... okay". He got on his knees and sat up next to me, looking at my legs, my thighs and I bent them up and opened them slightly. He brushed his hand along my leg, caressing my skin with his fingers. It sent shivers. He slowly stroked my outer thighs and ran the backs of his hands down the fronts. He could see he was turning me on and emboldened by this he ran his hands along my inner thighs stroking the flesh near the "gateway". I sighed and opened my legs further. "Can I ... touch you?". I nodded and he put his hand gently on my sex, caressing me between my legs. I was wet and so horny from his touch. He lay down next to me and kissed me all the while continuing to stroke my vulva and slipping a finger inside me gently. I instinctively reached down and started to grope for his penis through his trousers. He was erect and moaned when I pressed my hand against him. "Take your trousers off" I whispered and as he did, I slipped my underwear off and pulled my t-shirt over my head. We lay back down naked next to each other and I stroked him with my hand until he climaxed and he made me come but in a way that we won't speak of here! 

The next morning we were lying on my bed drinking coffee when my Joy Division poster fell of the wall. Just like that. It was a black and white poster for the single "LOVE WILL TEAR US APART". He looked at me and said jokingly "I don't think that is a very good omen". We laughed. It turned out it wasn't. 

I didn't see him for few days and in that time my feet went stone cold. I avoided his phone calls until he finally got me and we arranged to meet for coffee in town. I felt sick and claustrophobic and like I wanted to run a million miles. I made up my mind to nip it in the bud fast. All I could think of was I didn't want to lose him, I didn't want to lose him and if we carried on having a "relationship" then I would. 

He was waiting for me in our café and I sat down at the table and he reached over and took my hand. The light and love that came pouring out of his eyes literally turned my stomach. He asked me what was wrong and I blurted out I couldn't have a relationship with him. That it was too soon after my last boyfriend (!! Lies !!) and I wasn't over him and could we just be friends? 

I knew that had taken the wind out of his sails and that that was the last thing he was expecting to hear. He nodded, shocked and silent. 

He got over it and we remained friends for the four years we were at university. It was a total farce when I look back and I think he was waiting for me to wake up. I had other boyfriends and he had other girlfriends but whenever the two of us were in the same room together everyone else just melted away. He made me light up and I know I did the same for him. He played a few concerts in the Union building and I sat there among the hundreds of people watching him perform, singing songs that were, when I look back, about me. I had no idea at the time. Certainly not consicously. He gave me a tape of his music and I was playing it one day at home after I left university and my sister walked in and said... "Is this song about you?". I looked at her. I'd heard this song a hundred times and it had never occurred to me. 

So Conor, if you're out there and you're reading this, I hope you don't mind. I want you to know that I'm sorry. I was an idiot. I was sleep walking my way through life back then. Thank you for the love you gave me. I carry a little piece of you always inside my heart and I hope you're still writing songs and loving God and most of all, I hope you're blissfully happy and in love. Somewhere. Wherever. With someone special. 

Thank you for writing 'Fucking Friend'. I'll take the lyrics with me and the fiery spirit you wrote them in, to the grave. 



Fucking Friend 

Lift me out of this box my fucking friend 

Let's get outside 

And be outside 

And see where we might end 

Cause I'm tired and I'm weary 

And I'm just about to fall 

And I'm nothing like you think I am at all 

Well outside your box 

You look so lonely 

Good and Free 

And you're unusual and different 

And you make no sense to me 

But because of your four walls 

It all means I can never tell 

And the secrets burn me in 

This living hell 

Free me from my box 

My fucking friend 

Cause I'm nothing on my own 

And in your head I'm just pretend 

And until you start to witness me 

Then, nothing I'll remain 

And I'll always be 

The fucking friend 

The fucking same

20:55 Gepost door Pé de Cenoura | Permalink | Commentaren (0) |  Facebook |

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