1 comments/ 17659 views/ 0 favorites Premature By: xxbadshychickxx the phone rings. she answers. "I am on my way," the boy says. actually he is not a boy at all. 25 years old he is a man. technically though he does not act like it and she is not a little girl she is a woman though on the inside she feels as if she is still a child. she does not believe that she is doing this. but then again. she does. because in the end it will please Him. it will make her Owner happy. she will do anything for her Owner. anything that he asks. she is His property. He owns every inch of her. lips tongue neck breasts cunt ass legs mind. everything that she is belongs to Him. He is the reason that she is meeting the boy. a random boy. that she met online He wanted to hear her suck a boys cock. to listen knowing that she is doing it for Him. and enjoying it at the same time His good little girl. His good little cock sucker. His good little slut. the phone rings again. she answers. the boy is almost to her city. a three hour drive. she gathers all of her things and heads out of the school building needing to catch the bus. needing to have time to psych herself up. she gets home. wanders aimlessly throughout the house. unsure about what to do. she starts to do the dishes. the phone rings. it's the boy. he is in the city. he needs directions to her house. she meets him outside. they enter the house and stand in the kitchen. awkward silence. unsure about what to do she finishes the dishes. "So where are we going to do this?" he asks, "The living room or your bed room?" "The bedroom," she says. they enter the small room. a mattress on the floor with no sheets. she grabs some blankets and pillows from a closet and throws them on the bed. puts a movie on the television trying to make this a normal situation. though it is anything but sitting down on the mattress he asks, "Do you really want to watch a movie before we do this?" "Not really," she says. "I just really don't know how to go about this." he stands up and takes off his clothes. she thinks to herself I cant believe that I am actually going to do this but it is for Him. she reaches for her phone and dials His number. "Hello," He answers. "Hi, its me," she replies. "He is here." "Oh, wow!" He says over the sound of someone talking. "I thought that this was going to happen later. I am actually having dinner right now with some friends." "Oh," she sighs. "Well how about this?" He says quickly sencing her disapointmnet, "You start and I will call you back as soon as I can, ok?" "Ok," she sighs as she flips her phone shut. the boy looks at her "well?" he askes. "He said that he will call back when he can," she says adverting her eyes. he sits down again. this time completely naked except for his socks. his cock hard. he leans back and looks at her. the look on his face is demanding. anxious. and scared she gets closer to him. leans over closes her eyes. and slides his cock between her lips. he doesn't even come close to touching the back of her throat. she is a little disappointed. she starts to bob her head up and down. his cock sliding in and out of her mouth sliding back and forth against her tongue scraping against her teeth every now and then. she starts to make noises cause truth be told she actually does like giving head. especially since He told her to though the boy is silent except for the sound of heavy breathing. he just sits there letting her do her thing. she stops for a second to catch her breath. moving her hand up stroking him she looks at her phone that is sitting right next to her. nothing. she parts her lips and takes his cock into her mouth all the way to the base which is not that hard to do she moves her head up and down faster and faster pausing every now and then to circle the head of his cock with her tongue. now she can taste his pre-cum. she stops moves her hand up continuing the rhythm looking at her phone still nothing. moving on to her knees ass sticking straight up into the air. she can feel the wet spot that has formed on her panties. trying to rub her self against the fabric with no luck she whimpers she begins to suck his cock again. faster harder taking her frustration out on him. he does not even touch her. she looks up at him. his eyes are closed. "Faster, faster," he says as his lips part and sound escapes for the first time. "Don't stop! Please, don't stop!" she complies bobbing her head up and down her tongue moving in circles her hand massaging his balls. his hips thrust upwards and he grunts. as his warm cum fills her mouth. she swallows it all and licks up any that might have dropped. he sits up looks at the t.v comments on the movie and how amazing it is. she sits back. wraps her arms around her body nods in agreement looks at her phone nothing she looks at the time ten minutes had past since she got off the phone with Him. she sighs. needing more. needing anything. but most of all needing to cum herself. he starts to dress rambling about something she could care less about the way he is acting makes her uncomfortable like he is about to toss a wad of money on the bed "thanking" her for the blowjob. making her out to be a whore. "So much for your Owner listing," he says. a few moments of silence pass with anger in her tone of voice she asks, "So your leaving then?" "Yeah, I have a long drive ahead of me," he replies. "Ok," she sighs, three hours for a ten minute blowjob she sands up and walks him to the door. "Well I would be lying if I said that it wasn't fun," he says turning and walking down the steps. she slams the door and locks it. tears blur her vision. she runs to the bathroom. and forces herself to vomit. she brushes her teeth gargles mouthwash wanting the taste of him out of her mouth "Fucking asshole," she mumbles after spitting. she is not disgusted by what she did. just disappointed. frustrated. and pissed off when the arrangements were made he could not stop talking about how bad he wanted to eat her out. he could not stop talking about how much he loved the taste of pussy. she wanted more she needed more she wanted to cum she was sick of masturbating she needed to cum from another person touch. fucking "little boys" she thinks she picked up the phone and dialed His number. "Hey, I am still out at dinner," He says "what's up?" "He is gone," she replies. "What!" He says, almost shouting. "He came and he left," she says, trying to hold back her tears. "Really?" He says in disbelief, "Already?" "Yup, I will talk to you later." she says, ending the conversation, no longer trusting her voice to not crack, "Enjoy your dinner." "Ok, I will talk to you later then," he says. knowing that she is hurt. though she does not hear his last words because she has already hung up the phone. a little bit later her phone rings. its her Owner. "I am still out, actually I am calling you from the bathroom," He says. "Are you ok?" "Yes," she half lies. "I am just frustrated." "I know baby. I know," He says. "I want you to know that I am proud of you. You are a good girl. My good girl." she smiles "I will call you when I get home," He says. they say goodbye and hang up the phone. she lays down. starts to fall asleep. a smile spread across her face. knowing that she was good and made her Owner proud. and cursing "little boys" Premature Ejaculation? In my last story "Like No Other", I mentioned an incident in which I was pleasuring my girlfriend and came without even touching myself. It may sound a little strange but it was actually very erotic and she loved it. She said it let her know just how much she really turned me on. I thought I'd share it with all of you. Sandi and I hadn't made love in over two weeks. She had been sick for one of them and our work schedules didn't give us a lot of time to be together. Finally, on a Sunday afternoon, we were home alone. She suggested we go upstairs and lay down since we both were very tired from our hectic schedules. That sounded OK to me. We got into bed with me in a pair of shorts and she in her typical shorts and small tank top. Sandi looks really sexy in these because she's 5'7", slim, with small but perfect tits, an incredible ass and the most beautiful and sexy shaved pussy I have ever seen. She was 38 at the time with three kids but still had a killer body (and does to this day.) She laid on her right side with me behind her and asked "Will you rub my back?" I was happy to oblige because 90 percent of the time, when she asks me to rub her back it meant we were going to make love. I lifted her shirt up to her shoulder blades and began rubbing the palm or my hand lightly over her back. I worked from her neck down to the top of her thong, never venturing lower, then back up, moving all over her back. I rubbed each side, then massaged her spine, then rubbed all over her back again. After about 10 minutes she said "Rub my lower back, please?" My heart skipped and I began to feel a tingle of excitement. When she wants her lower back rubbed, it includes her ass cheeks and that is the magic phrase. At that point, I knew I was going to do more than rub her back. I slowly moved my hand down to the top of her thong and then started rubbing and massaging her spine just above the band. Slowly I moved my hand down the left side of her bare ass cheek, crossed at the bottom just above her legs, and rubbed my way back up. I let my hand roam all around her beautiful ass, but not dipping between her cheeks at this point. I detected the slight change in her breathing. Her breathing was becoming slow and deep. Not fast yet but I knew it was just a matter of time. I continued my gently caresses on her ass and lower back until she rolled over onto her back and said "Rub my tummy." The fun was about to begin. When we went from lower back to tummy it meant her pussy was wet and ready and we were minutes away from turning this sensual back rub into sexual pleasure. She pulled her shirt up, exposing her gorgeous breasts to me. However, in keeping with my current pattern, I didn't touch them. I rubbed from the top of her thong to just below the mound of her breasts, rubbing her entire abdomen and stopping occasionally to play with her belly ring. (Another huge turn-on. I love to suck on it.) Still using my flat palm, I rubbed her skin gently but firmly all over. The desired effect finally took hold. She grasped my hand in hers and guided it to her right breast. That was my cue. I cupped it for a few seconds, then began to caress it and to play with her nipple. It was hard and erect and wanting to be touched. I moved to the other one and gave it the same treatment for several minutes. Then I looked at her and asked "What do you want me to do?" "Suck them. Please suck them," she replied. I moved my face over her chest and gently took her left nipple into my mouth. I knew what she wanted. We had fantasized many times about her being pregnant and me nursing on her milk engorged breasts. She loved it when I sucked on her nipples like a nursing baby. I began sucking and manipulating her nipple as I believed a baby would who was trying to eat. "That's it Baby," she said. "Nurse on mama. Drink my milk." Her breathing was coming more quickly now and I knew she was really getting worked up. I moved to the right nipple and began the same regimen. When I did, she grabbed my left hand and slid it slowly down her belly and into her panties. It was time. When my fingers touched her pussy I could feel the wetness. I rubbed my fingers over the length of her wet slit, getting them wet and slippery. "Make me cum, Papi," she said. "I need to cum." I gently slid my middle finger into her wetness, then pulled it out and re-inserted it with my index finger. I then curled both fingers toward the front, knowing how to stimulate her G spot. (I learned this early in our relationship. I didn't have to pump my fingers in and out of her. All I had to do was curl my fingers up against her G spot and rock my hand up and down. That was all she needed.) I began rocking my hand up and down while still nursing on her nipple. Her breathing became erratic and her hips began slowly moving up and down in a rhythm. I knew it wouldn't be long. My cock was throbbing in my shorts and I was looking forward to her orgasm, knowing I would be inside her in minutes. I continued my movements and in a few moments her head went back on the pillow. "Nnnnnnhhhh," she moaned loudly. Then I heard it. "Ay Papi! Ay shhhiiiiiiitt!!" Her special phrase she used just for me during orgasm. It was terribly sexy. I continued to rock my hand in her pussy and suck on her nipple. Suddenly, without warning, my balls tightened up and I exploded, sending spurt after spurt of my cum into my shorts. "Oh God, Baby, I"m cumming!" She didn't say anything but continued working her pussy on my fingers until her orgasm subsided. As she came down, she looked at me and asked "Did you cum?" I hung my head and answered "I did. I'm sorry. I don't know what happened." "That's sweet," she said. "It's like we're in high school and you came in your pants. I like that. It lets me know just how much I turn you on. Remember, it has been a while." Her words made me feel better, although I was still disappointed in myself. We waited a while and then she began playing with me. "Now it's time for you to fuck me," she said. And she made me hard again. That afternoon, just watching and listening to her cum was enough to push me over the edge. It never happened again with her nor has it ever happened with any other woman. But she'll never forget it. And that's good enough for me. Premature Ejaculations Premature Ejaculations My dalliance with dooverlackies started late. Indeed, I’m embarrassed and ashamed that it started as late as it did – and distressed that I wasted so much time before I knew – intimately – what is, I swear, the greatest delight that human life has to offer. So I’m not going to tell you how old I was when my practical research into dooverlackies and their joys began. Let’s just imagine I was 21 and, for my first real adventure into the dooverlackie wonderland, she – sweet Julia - was 18. She was so lovely and I met her quite accidentally when I went over to her place to talk to her sister. She was slim and blue-eyed and she had the most wonderful legs – as I thought then and I believe I wasn’t far wrong, even after all this time – that I had ever seen. But I tried to put aside my more obvious lusts – I was pure; she was pure. We were two young people who felt strongly about the more noble aspects of life, people and relationships. So I fell in love then – already I think - with her perfect, symmetrical features, her lovely eyes and her natural, unaffected manner. That first time I saw her, I like to think I had everything pretty much under control. Admittedly, I was even then a little tongued-tied and rather overwhelmed by her beauty; but I managed somehow to cover it up – I thought. I told myself that I saw her – almost - as just another beautiful girl and, if I knew that, on meeting her, I stuttered a bit, I was to all appearances – for others, even her sister - pretty much relaxed and in charge. I must say though that I loved the way she moved – the grace of her walk, her poise, the natural charm that she embodied in everything she did. I did not then even dare to imagine more erotic possibilities; those occurred to me only later. If I was dooverlackie-deprived, I was also dooverlackie-free. In other words, at that stage I was not – as I was later - so much subject to dooverlackie power, simply because I had very little idea of how much I was missing – the more’s the pity. If I have developed a “fetish” with maturity, it is quite simply for sweet dooverlackies and all they can offer the worthy – and sometimes even the unworthy – male. Of course, that isn’t really a “fetish” at all; it is so natural as to be the expression of nature’s intent itself; and research into all the admirable qualities of dooverlackies and the joys they can bestow is not really a task – nor a scientific quest – but a pleasure-seeking adventure in which the rewards are great and marvellous – and there waiting for you to reach out and take, at the end, so to speak, of your throbbing, tingling prick. The more you know and appreciate sweet dooverlackies, the more blessed your life will surely be. From that first meeting with Julia, I did not take any initiative to see her again. In fact, I didn’t need to: I realised that I would, with my normal circle of friends – including her sister – inevitably come close to her from time to time. Our second meeting was quite – and note this word – serendipitous. That’s a big word that turned out to apply to a big occasion. In those days, I used to ride fairly regularly, from the edges of town, out into the bush, mostly in the area of the sheep and cattle country of Gundaroo. I’d been out riding – and thinking about buying a property out there, if I ever got enough money together – when I saw her – overtook her, actually – riding home. We got to talking and I accompanied her right back to the stables; but she was reticent – shy – reserved – call it what you will. I wondered why and inevitably closed up a bit myself. I didn’t want to. She was even more lovely in riding gear than when I’d first seen her. The young can sometimes be just as crude as we older fellows get conditioned to be: with her legs apart bestride the horse, I couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to be – that’s me and not the horse!! - between those lovely legs. Then, when we got back to the stables, she didn’t dismount. She just continued to sit in the saddle, watching me. I was mystified. She was embarrassed. Finally, she had to confess – up to a point. “I’ve had a little accident,” she said, “I’ve got to get it fixed – privately. You go ahead…” I know how disappointed I looked. She smiled and blew me a kiss. “I’ll be seeing you,” she said. Later, I heard over the grapevine what had happened. That afternoon she’d had a good ride and her horse had been a bit more spirited than usual. Whether that or something else was the reason, she’d split her riding pants. She couldn’t dismount until she got me away safely. When I heard the story, I got a raging erection – nothing exceptional in that, the way I was in those youthful days – just thinking about the split – and where it lay… Somehow it made me feel – quite irrationally – that I was closer, more intimately associated with her. My chances – of love – were better. Silly, I know, but young hopes run like that. Well, anyway, that was all for that afternoon and, since I went home alone, I went home rather deflated. But all was not lost. She’d said, “I’ll be seeing you” and - As good fortune would have it, a week or so later arrangements were made for a game of tennis to which both she and I – quite separately and not as a couple – were invited. All right, you might say, what was the danger - or the possible good fortune - in that? You have a game of tennis, with a group of other people. So what? How could that lead to any dramatic change in your relations with this girl or in your evolution towards a more mature sexuality? It wouldn’t – not necessarily. When I accepted the invitation to play, I did not even know that she would be there so, when I saw her in her tennis gear, the impact was all the more overwhelming. That was because the dress for tennis is intended to leave the limbs and body free. For women, it is not quite like wearing a topless bikini but it goes a good deal of the way – rather more discreetly – in that direction. The dress for tennis did for her what its plumage does for a bird of paradise – but with much less pretension! It just shows the simple contours and hints – more than slyly but still modestly - at what is beneath the only partly concealing sporting gear. When I’d seen her fully dressed, I’d just about fallen in love with her already. When I’d seen her in her riding gear, I’d been pretty much gone a million; and, after I’d heard the story of her riding pants being split – just at that critical point between her legs where her sweet little dooverlackie resides – I’d had an erection pretty well all the time since. Now that I saw her, certainly not fully undressed, but with some of her intriguing attributes partly revealed – her lovely legs and just the suggestion of her neat but full breasts nudging against the thin, silky material of her shirt – I felt a wave of desire that I’d never felt before for anyone. It was then that the first irresistible urgings of the dooverlackie kind began to form: I had to have her – but first I had to get to know her. The power of the dooverlackie is infinite. This I should have known but that day we played tennis together was the first time that its power – as well as its sweetness – began properly to dawn on me. Even so, to start with, my control wasn’t too bad. Of course, at just the sight of her, I could feel my prick begin to stir in my tennis shorts; but, in those days when I was so young and inexperienced, I could so easily get an erection from the least stimulation - from an advertising hoarding of a half-naked girl or by sitting next to almost any half-comely female in a streetcar – that my erection on seeing her in tennis gear wasn't anything to write home about. My prick was no more than a good barometer of the healthy state of my youthful yearnings. When it first caught sight of her in tennis gear, it sprang to attention; but, when I told it to behave itself, it did its best to comply. The real challenge came when the club captain called me over. “Oh, Jon,” he said. “Would you do something for me? Have a hit-up with young Julia here? Keep her amused and warm her up like - until we can fit her into a mixed doubles.” It was only then, when I was directed to play this fun game of singles with her and he led us over to a separate court, where we’d be alone, that my control started – dramatically - to fade. As I walked close beside her to the court, any remaining control just about completely collapsed in a ragged heap. However, my prick didn’t collapse with my control. On the contrary – and of course logically – the more my control collapsed, the bigger my erection grew. I could feel him swelling almost by the second – and he had a mind and will of his own. If I were to play even just a few games with her, I would have to look at her - all of her - and I couldn’t do that without getting an almost trembling desire to make love to her, right there on the tennis court. All that was par for the course: I was young and it was, even at my rather advanced age for a virgin, quite a normal response. Nature always meant dooverlackies and erections to go together and the one to encourage the other. Certainly, that was what happened now. I felt the encouragement – in the tingling of my prick - long before I had any hope of being able to catch the slightest glimpse of the actual sweet, sweet honeypot that had so generously started the delicious tingling. As I’ve said, she had lovely legs – the loveliest legs I’d ever seen, so lovely that now – and with a crudeness that I knew was unseemly - I couldn’t look at them without imagining what it would be like to be between them – to slide my prick into that intimate territory where her legs came together, at the entrance to her delightful little dooverlackie itself. The actual tennis play did nothing to lessen my arousal. Indeed, as I ran around the court, the friction of my clothing against my body seemed to me to cause my already formidale erection to be constantly stimulated to even bigger things. It destroyed any small vestiges of control I could still claim; and I thought she must be aware of the effect she was having on me, however much she pretended to be oblivious to everything except our game of tennis. For her, I imagined, the only “love” was the score in our tennis knock-up. At one stage, she hit a ball that was obviously over the line but – being a gentleman - I called it in. She ran up and for a moment I thought she was going to kiss me over the net; but she just sort of blew the kiss to me and said, “Mnnn…thank you!” Hurriedly, I had to kneel down and pretend to tie my shoe laces. That teasing and titillating is, I came to realise later, part of the dooverlackie technique: it exerts its power without ever conceding that it has anything but sweetness, sweet pleasure and sweet encouragement to offer. It wasn’t just when she blew me the kiss, more often it was just to cover up my persistent embarrassment from the bulge in my shorts, that I had constantly to kneel and pretend to adjust my shoe laces. By the time the club captain finally came to my rescue – we had actually played only a couple of games - those laces had been tied every thirty seconds over a period of ten minutes or so – and the bulge still made it clear to anyone who bothered to look just how desperately randy I was. I still did not know, from direct and personal experience, just what it was like to have a fuck; but, that afternoon, God knows, I was desperately anxious to have a try. “Now, Jonathan,” the captain said, “you can’t monopolise Julia the whole time. You have to give others a go.” – he grinned – “Me, for example….” He beamed on her and took her arm. I felt jealous and resentful – and more lustful than ever. I had to bend down again to tighten my shoe laces before I could decently follow them from the court and head for the clubhouse. I thought that would be pretty much the end of my chances with her – since I’d been such an immature twit - but after she’d played again with someone else and I’d been through the motions in a men’s doubles, she spoke to me when we met again in the clubhouse. She was very friendly. Perhaps – I didn’t know for sure – she had realised that she’d been the cause of the bulge in my shorts and she took it – perhaps – as a compliment that she’d had such a stimulating effect on me. As we chatted, music was playing and the sun was fast slipping towards the horizon. “It’s going to be a lovely evening,” she said. “Do you ever go exploring?” I took my courage in both hands. “Could we go together?” “Tonight?” “I’ll pick you up at eight.” “I love you,” she said and kissed me on the cheek. I almost came there and then. It was shortly after eight that we strolled together to a little park near my place and up a little rise or hill, at the top of which was a circle of pines surrounding an area of thick, soft lawn. By the time we reached the top we were arm in arm. There was a moon waxing between half and full that spread a soft golden glow over everything. There was no one about. We were alone in a moonlit wonderland. By this time, just about all I felt was an irresistible desire to make love to her; but I could still be sufficiently romantic in my thoughts to imagine that we were in our own, personal temple at the top of the little hill and that here, on this greensward, was our special cathedral-like nave of pure, innocent, young love. Perhaps here I would take my first, probably stumbling steps into dooverlackieland, learn of its mysteries and experience its delights. My prick was already beginning to dribble a little at the thought and I couldn’t help it: I held her more closely and kissed her shyly on the cheek. She looked at me enquiringly: “What was that for?” she seemed to be asking. Was it a friendly brotherly sort of kiss or did it portend something more passionate? She seemed to decide, from the way I was holding her, that it was the second and that seemed to please her. She turned and kissed me on the cheek – and held it just that little bit longer to show that she meant it. By the time we had passed through the circle of pines, she seemed to have made up her mind. She turned towards me and slipped an arm around my waist. Even when our arms had been linked side by side, I had been able to feel the gentle swaying of her breasts against my body as we walked. Now that she was in front of me, with her face only inches from mine, I could feel the nipples of her breasts pressing against my chest. Slowly and shyly our lips came together and I felt the magic of a lover’s first real kiss. Holding one another, we let ourselves down, hugging together, on to the lawn. “I should have brought a rug,” I said. “No – not at all – there is nothing we don’t have already that we need.” She was wearing a mini-skirt dress and, as she lay now on her back, it would have been easy for me to touch her breasts or fondle between her legs – perhaps even to find and caress her lovely little dooverlackie... But I didn’t dare. Gradually though, I came to lie alongside and prop myself up on one elbow above her. I leant down to kiss her, hug her, press my body against her. Her eyes were closed. My hand reached under her skirt. The tip of my prick was rubbing up and down inside my pants… I didn’t know where I was going…but I knew it was a wonderful, wonderful journey…. She began to murmur words I could not catch and to sigh and moan softly. I could feel myself mounting to a peak of pleasure that I couldn’t control and didn’t want any longer to control….I just wanted to make love to her…I was going to…. I reached to open my zip and let my prick free… Then it happened. The most exquisite feeling in my loins…I was going up and up…the heavens were opening for me…I tried not to cry out but she must have known what had happened. “I have to go back – to my place,” I stuttered. “Will you come with me?” I think she knew. She kissed me. “Of course.” At my place, I went quickly to the bathroom and then we sat on the bed together and talked. We talked about anything. She told me how much she’d enjoyed playing tennis with me. I didn’t think I knew her well enough – yet – to tell her about the erections that had plagued me whenever I looked at her on the tennis court and that, when I’d bent down to tie my shoe laces, it was so that she wouldn’t see how much she had excited me. We talked too about the little hill and how we’d make that our special trysting place… Gradually, we relaxed. The single small bedside light touched us with something like the soft glow that the moon had shone over us on our little hill. We looked at one another – into one another’s eyes – and we saw what we wanted. Slowly – for a second time that night – our lips moved shyly and slowly together. She closed her eyes. Again, I felt the magic of her kiss… Now I wanted her, more desperately than ever. Slowly, we stretched out on the bed in one another’s arms, hugging and squeezing and kissing. We were still fully clothed but now I had the courage to stroke her breasts – outside her clothing - and then, as I continued to kiss her lips, her ears, her neck, to slip my hand under her skirt. She did nothing to stop me. She held me tighter and – I thought – encouraged me with her kisses, to go further and further…. I felt the soft, smooth skin of her thighs. She was wearing panties but I found I was able to reach inside the thong. With my fingers I explored ..to touch her lips and inside them.. She gave a little gasp of pleasure .. I opened my zip… My prick, thick and hard and throbbing, sprang out. She touched it – its tip, the delicate, sensitive prepuce – gently, excitingly….with a touch, I thought, like that of butterfly wings … I was going to explode …. shamefully explode again prematurely but I didn’t care. I had to let go. Then suddenly she stopped…I couldn’t bear it…I wanted her to go on .. to feel her fingers touching me… Instead she did something I never expected - something that was even more wonderful than her gentle massage of my fevered prick… She lifted her bottom and pulled her panties down…right down and slipped them off. I gazed in wonder at her delightful little dooverlackie surrounded by a tiny bush of almost blonde hair – my first sight of dooverlackieland. Now, she turned me on my back and got on top of me. When I touched her little dooverlackie, she was wet and excited – I thought as much as I was. She was rubbing herself against me – against my prick. My exploring fingers found the little hood that covered her clit. I rubbed it and she groaned and pressed herself even more eagerly against me. My instrument of pleasure was straining to enter… She knew the moment had come and she wanted the moment to be hers. Spreading her lovely legs, she took my throbbing joystick in her hand and guided him slowly – as though in a wonderful dream sequence - into her delightful little cubby hole. I saw the lips of her cunt part as the head of my prick slid in… As he went in, I experienced a pleasure I’d never known before. I thrust. She moved the lips down in harmony with my thrust, then raised her bottom and released him…Then she eased him in again… The pleasure was unbearable, mounting in waves with every movement of my prick in and out of her lovely, delicious, all-loving cunt…. I had never made love to a girl before – not the whole way – and I marvelled how easy and wonderful it was proving to be – with Julia at least. Now she was squirming on top of me, crying out, rolling her dooverlackie against my prick and repeating “Yes…oh, yes…” The sight of him in her sweet little honey pot was so overwhelming that I thought I was about to lose everything again – to my shame – before she was ready and she would never want to see me again.