The Sleepover, Part 3

	As I sat on the edge of the bed, I heard water running in the bathroom between our rooms, and shortly Chrissy came back out into my room.  She was smiling, and her smile was really enough to light up the room.  And my heart.
	"Ready for more fun and learning?" she asked.
	"Whatever you want, I guess. You're the teacher, tonight."
	"Good, good."  She sat down on the bed next to me.  "The thing you have to understand is, boys and girls are different.  I know, I know, that's obvious.  But I just took you from panic to orgasm in a few minutes.  Girls aren't like that.  It takes a lot longer, and they have to feel secure, before they can experience true sexual pleasure.  Nature made it that way on purpose.  And your job, if you want to have more than what amounts to a quick intra-vaginal masturbation episode, is to give her that security."
	"Now, let's pretend we're on a date, and we're someplace dark and safe, and I'm showing signs I'd like some more from you.  You have to understand that just grabbing my boobs and putting your hand down my pants is not going to get you where you want to go.  First of all, everyone, and especially girls, don't have just a couple of erogenous zones.  The whole body is sensitive, especially when you're a little aroused, and touching almost anywhere will be enjoyed, from the top of your head to the soles of your feet.  Also, keep in mind my feline descent, so gentle 'petting' is especially appreciated.  So, let's start with some basics.  Sit back a little on the bed, and spread your knees."
	I scooted back and spread, as she asked.  She turned around and sat on the edge of the bed, between my knees, with her back to me.
	"Now, before we begin, do you think I'm pretty?"
	"Well, of course, I do," I stammered.  "You're gorgeous!"
	"Oh, you're sweet to say that.  Sincere appreciation will help you a lot, and it makes me feel good, too."
	"I want you to touch me gently all over.  Remember to go with the fur direction, and make your touch very light.  Start with the top of my head and my face.  Use both hands, and you can kiss me, too.  Just stay away from the typical 'sex zones' that you may have heard girls love to have touched.  For right now, don't touch my underwear.  And never touch my butthole."
	“Really?  I thought girls liked that!”
	“Well, keep in mind you got that idea from porn, probably, and most porn is written by men, for men.  Don't believe everything you read or see there.  Oh, someday you might find a girl who likes anal sex, but believe me, the numbers are extremely small.  In fact, most girls, when they see that in a video, say, 'Ew, doesn't he know that's the wrong hole?'”
	“Is there porn written by women, for women?”
	“Yeah.  It's called Romance.”  She settled back against me.
	I did as she said, and ran a fingertip from the top of her head, between her ears, and down past the nape of her neck.  I stopped to kiss her there, because...well, because it just felt right.  She wiggled a little, as if in appreciation.  With my left hand, I went back to the top of her head and gently touched her ears.  They were different from mine, of course, because they stood up all the time.  But they were delicate and expressive.
	With my right hand, I ran a finger down from her forehead to the tip of her pink nose.  Then I traced her lips with my fingertip.  She kissed my fingertip, and a little thrill went through me.  For such a little thing?  I was surprised.
	I reached around and felt under her chin, then down her neck.  I came to her collar bones, and traced them out to her shoulders.  I followed her arms down to her elbows, then to her hands.  She was muscular, but svelte.  I held her hands in my palms, and lifted them to my lips, kissing the cute pink paw pads.  I sqeezed one finger pad, and sure enough, a deadly-looking claw slid out.  But it was painted pink!
	Back to her chest, I smoothed the fur above her breasts.  Careful not to touch the forbidden bra, I circled back under it to her abdomen.  She was more muscular there than I am, revealing her athletic expertise.   Her ribs were just detectable under the muscle.  I followed the rippling abs down to her belly button.  No, I couldn't resist tickling it.  Yes, she was ticklish there!
	Stopping before the tempting black silk panties, I brought my hands back behind her.  Starting at her neck, I followed her backbone down.  I never really thought about the skeletal workings of girls, but I savored each moment of touching her, anywhere.  Again, I stopped before I got to the elastic waistband of those panties.
	Leaning against her back, I ran my hands down her thighs, to her knees.  I came back up on the inner sides, and she slightly spread her legs to allow me to enjoy the silky, soft fur there.  I withdrew my right hand, reached under her knees, put my left behind her back, and lifted her slightly, putting her across my lap.  This way, I could run my hand the rest of the way down to her feet.  I admired her strong, muscular calves and ankles.  I felt around each toe, and again admired the cute pink foot pads, as well as (again) the retractable claws.  
	She reached her right hand up and around my back, pulling my face down to hers.  She placed a gentle kiss on my lips, then pulled me down harder, pressing more against my lips.  She started moving her lips around, and finally thrust her tongue between her lips...and between mine!
	I had heard of kissing like this, and it was nothing like the little peck on the cheek I had gotten after a couple of dates!  It was intense, and fun, and ... well, messy, to a certain extent.  But Chrissy seemed to be very pleased.  And I learned that even my parents had a stereotype problem.  They had always talked about the “sandpaper tongue” that cats had.  Chrissy's tongue was only a little rougher than mine, and almost as long, which is pretty long, indeed.  We did a lot of exploring.  Finally, we came up for breath.
	“You remember when I put your hand in my panties?” she asked.
	“How could I forget?”
	“Fair enough.  Do you remember how it felt?”
	“Yeah, pretty much.”
	“Well, you can get a pretty good indication of how ready a girl is for sex by doing exactly that.  However, there's a 'shorthand' version.  Just lightly touch my panties, down the front.”
	Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.  I ran my fingers down the front of the black silk.  It felt warmer than it had earlier, and a little...wet, I guess you'd say.
	“OK, did you notice the difference?” she asked.
	“Yeah, it's kind of wet.  Not a lot, but you can feel it.”
	“That means you're making progress, doing the right things.  You've earned the next step.  You can take my bra off.”
	The only problem with that is that she was sitting sideways in my lap, and I could get at her bra fastener with only my left hand.  Experienced guys will know what I'm talking about.  I couldn't see it, and I couldn't figure out how to operate it.  Such pleasure so close, and unable to accomplish it!  Fortunately, she saw the problem, reached behind her, and undid the clasp.  She left it to me to remove it, though.  I did so carefully, making sure not to catch any of her skin or fur in it.  Let me tell you, the first time you see a pair of breasts relax to their natural shape after being removed from the support of a bra is a magical moment.
	OK, stop right there.  I've heard all the theories about why guys like breasts.  Weaned too young.  All that stuff.  I don't know why, and I don't care why.  To quote one comedian, once you've seen two...you want to see them all!
	Chrissy's breasts were, of course, covered with white fur, except for the area right around the nipples, which was bare baby pink skin.  They were medium-sized, I would guess (and how would I know, at that stage?), nicely shaped, with just enough weight to form a nice bulge.  
	“Go ahead, you can touch them,” she laughed.
I realized I was staring.  I cautiously reached out with my right hand and touched the bottom of her left breast.  Oh, man, was it soft!  I gently lifted it, just to see how much work that bra had been doing.  Not a lot, but it gave my stomach butterflies.  Then I gently touched the nipple.  Warm, soft.  I pressed gently, and it indented quite a bit.  I released it, and of course it sprang back out.  
	Chrissy giggled.  “Never touched one before, huh?”  
	“No, never.  I've seen pictures and videos, but it doesn't feel like I imagined it would.”
	“Disappointed?”
	“Oh, no, they're marvelous.  Much nicer than I ever thought they'd be.  It seems a crime to cover up anything so wonderful.”  I was awestruck.
	She wiggled a little, just to make them shake.  
	“Uh, what size are they?  I assume there is a system for that, so you buy the right...um...underwear?”
	“We use a 'cup size' system.  They use letters, from A, to whatever, with A being the smallest.  Mine are C-cups, which I guess is about average.  Much larger than that, and I couldn't be a runner.”
	I spent a little while admiring them.  Then I spent a while just touching them, comparing them to my hand, changing their shape, etc.  
	And I spent some more time deeply kissing Chrissy.
	Finally I got up my nerve.
	“Can I kiss your breasts, too?” I asked, holding my breath.
	“Certainly.  In fact, I wish you would.  And lick the nipples.  And suck on them.  And kiss me some more!”
	The nipples were soft and warm.  At least, until I slobbered on them.  But I cleaned them off.  And I kissed her a lot.
	And after a while, she said, “Check the panties again, Johnny.”
	I ran my finger down the front again, and now they were very wet.  In fact, the moisture was coming through the fabric.
	“Really wet.  Now what?”
	She scooted off my lap, stood up, and faced me.
	“Now, this!” she said.
	She pulled the black silk panties down slowly.  I watched them go all the way to the floor.  She stepped out of them and stood up straight in front of me. 
	There she stood, in all her nude magnificence.   My eyes followed up her legs, to the area the panties had covered, and on up past her ticklish belly button, her fascinating breasts, and her glowing face.  How could I be so lucky?
	She caught me staring at her ... um ... yeah, that.  I guess the word would be “vulva.”  
	“Still liking what you're seeing, Johnny?”  
	“Oh, yes.  Like I said, I've seen pictures before, but it looks so...different.”
	“Here, take a closer look,” she said.  She pushed my knees together, then stepped closer, straddling my legs.  She reached down and smoothed the fur around the area in question.  At first, all I saw was a bare, pink-skinned area surrounding a slit.  But rather than being just a slit, I saw that there were a pair of little folds of skin protruding from them, about half-way along the length.  They were a glistening, darker pink color.  
	Chrissy used her two forefingers to spread the outer lips of the slit.  
	“The first thing you see, up close to the top, is the secret to my sexual satisfaction.  That is the clitoris, of which you have no doubt heard, and are now seeing for the first time in real life.”
	She used her forefinger and second finger to spread the slit wider.  The two smaller lips seemed to stick together, probably from the moisture on them.
	“What you see here are the doors to your sexual paradise.  They're called the labia minora, or little lips.  They are the place we all come out of, and the place you boys spend all your time trying to get back into.”
	She spread the little lips, and I could see a little opening there.  
	“So, Chrissy, do you have a name for this...uh...equipment?”
	“Yes.  I call it Little Pussy.  Because, of course, I'm the Big Pussy.”  
	Staring Little Pussy in the face—so to speak—was a little daunting, especially with Big Pussy watching me.
	“Go ahead and touch it,” she urged.
	Again, I carefully reached out and touched the clitoris.  It felt like a little nub, just as it looked.
	“Right now, that's bigger than it usually is.  Just like your ... uh, what do you call your little guy?”
	“I call him 'Hermy.'  It's a joke from junior high health class.  The teacher, when he talked about couples, always referred to them as 'Hermy and Petunia.'”
	“How cute.  Well, just like Hermy, when I get sexually excited, that organ swells up some.”
	I touched it again.  Chrissy drew in a sudden breath.
	Then I followed the lips down to the opening.  I found it increasingly slippery.  It felt almost like velvet.  I inserted a finger into the opening.  It slipped in very easily.  I slowly slid it in, until my entire finger was inside.
	“OK,” she said, “you've had one release already, and I haven't had any, so let's continue your education.”
	She stepped back, turned around, and started to sit down.  Then she turned and took another look at me.
	“I'm naked.  You need to take your shorts off, too.”
	I realized that I had not taken them off.  She had apparently coaxed “Hermy” out of the front opening, when she needed access to him.  Made sense, really.  I stood and pulled my shorts down, then kicked them off by the bed and sat back down.  She turned around, reached back and spread my knees again, and sat on the edge of the bed in front of me again.
	“Once a girl is as wet as I am, she's really ready for some serious activity.  Give me your right hand, and I'll show you what I want.”
	She scooted back until she had my penis trapped between us.  Then she spread her knees, took my right hand, found my middle finger, and inserted the tip in her slit.  She slowly moved it up and down the lips, from the lower opening, up to the clitoris, and back.  Every few strokes, she'd insert my finger into the opening (which I realized was her vagina).  This kept the whole “playing field” well-lubricated.
	She removed her hand and left me to my own devices.  It was fascinating.  Just the very idea of what I was doing made ... uh...Hermy about as stiff as I could stand him being.
	Chrissy was clearly enjoying what I was doing.  She started to rock her pelvis, assisting my attentions.  Eventually, she moved her left hand to the scene of the action.  She moved my hand so that I was titillating the right side of her clitoris, and she took the left side.  She coordinated her movements to mine, including the regular dive into the source of the slippery velvet.  Sometimes both our fingers would be in her vagina at the same time. 
	She was starting to rub faster and faster, and I tried to keep up with her.  She also wanted to be kissed, deeply, and having both my fingers and my tongue going at the same time was really stimulating.  Add in my left hand cupping her left breast, and there was serious dermal contact and excitement.  Then she put her right hand around my back, scooted forward a little, and grabbed Hermy and began vigorously stroking that. 
	Man, were we busy!
	Suddenly, I felt her stiffen up and begin shuddering.  She broke off our kiss and started gasping and moaning.  She grabbed my hand and plunged it deep into her velvety depths.  I'd never seen it in person, before, but I suddenly realized she had reached an orgasm.  And that was so sexy, I did, too!
	Slowly, we both subsided into a pleasant relaxation.  I scooted back on the bed, pulled her after me, and lay down on my left side.  I pulled her closer to me, her warm bottom against my groin, her back against my chest, and my right hand cupping her left breast, my muzzle in her soft hair.  Yep.  Definitely cinnamon.  Our breathing slowed.
	And that was the last thing I knew until morning.