4 comments/ 21756 views/ 14 favorites Curls By: MVPrimetime It started eight months ago. She was at a gig in a pub quite near my house. It started snowing while she was in the concert, and by the time she got out it was the usual chaos that first snowfall always brings. No taxi to be had, and heavy snow still falling, no chance of a bus at that time of night. So I got a rap on the door at half one in the morning, and stood in my dressing gown with bleary eyes facing two frozen teen-aged girls. Carly had been accompanied by Genie. (I'm not making that name up. Gennifer for long) I knew Carly because I knew her mother. I sometimes worked with her. I had met Carly when she was a kid, and she had been to my flat with her mum a few times. So her turning up at my place that night sort of made sense. They rang home and said they were staying with me, and I spoke to her mother and said it was okay. I gave them blankets and pillows and told them they could fight over who got the sofa. My flat had only one bed. What might have been the second bedroom was my office and workshop. So they settled down and I staggered off to bed and was just drifting off when I heard a sound. It was a gasp, followed by a giggle, and a half whispered "Be quiet, you'll wake him!" A slight less whispered reply was quick to follow "Who cares? Maybe he'd come and play too?" "Eeww! No way!" "What do you mean 'Eeww'? I think he's quite dishy." "More like dishwater! Honestly Carly, you have no taste in men!" "I won't argue, because you are simply wrong, I think he is very handsome, and a nice guy, and his big deep voice is very sexy. But at least you will agree that I have a very good taste in girls. Who taste very good." This last pronouncement was followed by a small squeal, a giggle and some moans, with faint kissing and sucking noises. It was clear what was going on. The question was what to do? I had realised that it was Carly who had said she fancied me, Genie who had made the disgusted sound. It was also clearly Carly who had started kissing the other girl again and, I was quite sure, going down on her. Should I wander out and interrupt? Go and play? The sound of Genie's heavy breathing, rasping in her throat, interspersed with suppressed gasps and cries, was fascinating, and dreadfully arousing. If I walked out there now, naked and with a throbbing hard on, how would they react? Would Carly really welcome me, or would the pair scream and cry rape? Would an already aroused Genie beckon me on and get over her avowed aversion? Would it turn out that Carly's talk was all just front, like Mena Suvari in American Beauty? I heard Genie come. It couldn't be anything else. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, ears straining, heart racing, cock pulsing. Silence. What was happening? Was it too late to go out there now? I imagined them curled up around each other, naked, or just semi dressed, gently kissing and drifting to sleep. I couldn't walk in on that. Screams would be certain. I quietly went to the door and listened again. There were faint sounds of low voices. Intimate talk, pillow talk. Was that a sigh? A groan? Yes. A groan, and a gasp. And Carly's voice deepened by lust saying "Oh god, girl, you are good at that!" Then a high pitched squeak, and a laugh, and more groaning. Genie was playing with Carly now. Frigging her? Licking her out? Who was on top? Were they both naked? My mind raced, images set themselves to the sounds I heard, and I hardly noticed that my hand was stroking my foreskin back and forth in time to the girlish sighs and gasps that made me think of soft hair and hard fingers, firm breasts, slick lips, pulsing flesh, heat and sweat and sweet sticky ... I came. I think I was quiet. Certainly the girls didn't seem to notice, and carried on for several minutes more until Carly shrieked. I made it back to bed and lay there trembling. In the quiet that followed I was wide awake, berating myself. On the one hand I was a coward, a pathetic solitary wanker, jerking off to the sounds of two gorgeous, nubile, sexually charged and willing girls, who would have welcomed me to join a threesome and fuck them both all night, if I just had the balls to open the door. On the other hand I was a dirty old man, a pervert, a potential rapist, a betrayer of the trust given to me by Carly's mother and Genie's parents. At least, I consoled myself, even if I had perhaps just missed the opportunity of a lifetime, I had missed the opportunity of a long time in jail. I woke late. I had not set an alarm, and I had just finished one hell of a week at work. I had needed the sleep, and had no plans for the day. I drifted up to consciousness, and revelled in the warmth of the duvet and the knowledge that it was Saturday. It took a few moments for the memory of the night before to kick in. I was suddenly, absolutely, awake. No sound. I threw on a robe, and then rethought my outfit and added boxer shorts. I cautiously opened the door into my living room, and looked around. I couldn't see any sign of either of them. My flat had only one bathroom, accessible from the hall or as an ensuite from the other (larger) bedroom/office. I made my way towards it, and hesitated at the door. I could hear the shower. 'Shit. I have two teenage lesbians in my shower, and I need a pee,' was the thought that bubbled angrily to mind. Then I caught myself on. I grinned. Why am I angry? I have two naked teenage girls who are bisexual, according to their conversation, in my shower. How often am I ever going to be able to say that? But what to do about it? I needed to pee. I could grab a pint glass from the kitchen... Or just walk in to the bathroom and be brazen about it. After all, catching them both in the shower would be the sort of thing they wouldn't want to tell their parents... I settled for knocking on the door, and calling "Sorry to disturb you girls, will you be long?" A voice replied "Hang on a second." I heard the shower stop, and about five seconds later the door opened. Carly was wrapped in a towel. She had opened the door wide, unconscious (perhaps?) of her effect on me. "Come on in," she said. "Oh," I said, looking past her, "I thought Genie was in here too." She raised an eyebrow at me and said "You thought we were in the shower together?" I'm sure I blushed. I stumbled out "No, no, I, I wasn't thinking that, it's just she isn't in the living room, and I assumed you'd both be doing your makeup or whatever." She gave me a smile that made me blush and stammer more. "I mean, girl's go to the loo together in pubs all the time... I wasn't suggesting anything..." "Really?" she said, with an inflexion that made me squirm internally. She followed it up with an off hand tone, saying "As a matter if fact, Genie had to go to work this morning. She has a part time job with a stall at the St George's Market. So she was up and showered by herself hours ago." She had put some emphasis on the words 'by herself', but after a moments pause she carried on, saying "Not that I would mind if you did think things like that about me and Genie. After all, they are all true." She flashed me another smile, and turned towards the shower cubicle, saying "I do like having a shower with her. Good clean fun, as my Granny would say. Although I don't think she means the same thing." She turned again to look at me as I stood open mouthed. "Of course it is fun with a man too." I think I made some incoherent noise, and she smiled at me again, and said "Sorry, I'm keeping you back. I expect you wanted in here to use the loo. Please go ahead, you won't disturb me. I need to wash my hair now." She turned, dropped the towel and stepped into the shower cubicle with her back to me. She turned on the shower again, stepped under it, and began to lather her hair, while I stood and watched, and tried to breathe. She was simply gorgeous. She was smooth, her back muscles flexing, her bottom full and tight, her calves and ankles slim, her long curly hair stretched straight and shiny by the water. The penny dropped. This was real. I wasn't dreaming. She had made it clear, without saying it, that she liked having male company in the shower. This wasn't a bluff or a naïve flirtation. Despite my hard on I went to the toilet and managed to relieve myself. Then I turned, and stepping out of my boxers, moved towards the shower cubicle, just as she turned round to face me. Water and lather cascaded down her face, off her chin, around her neck and over her stunning breasts. Her dark nipples were crinkled and pointed, the curves of the two firm mounds diverted the flow, and a large blob of foam dragged my eyes with it as it slid between them, over her smooth stomach, clinging for a second to her navel, before slipping into the dark curly bush below. She had her hands raised to rinse the conditioner from her hair, which emphasised the projection of her breasts, of course, and she stood with one foot slightly forward, in the classic pose of beauty queens and models. She knew, with her eyes closed, that I was there with eyes wide open. My heart pounded, adrenaline coursed. Hell with it. I let my robe fall, and stepped into the cubicle, taking her straight into my arms, pulling her slippery naked body against mine and bringing my lips to hers, kissing her for the first time. It was a passionate, lust filled, demanding kiss. It was a kiss that spoke volumes about what I wanted, what I expected. I was pleased that she returned it with enthusiasm. Right up to that moment I had feared that Carly had been playing silly girl games. She might have screamed and tried to push me off. Thinking about it now, I have to ask myself what I would have done in that case. I hope I would have been a gentleman. But I am glad I didn't need to make that choice. She melted against me, and gripped me as she returned the kiss. I heard her groan as she felt my cock press against her stomach, and she slipped her legs open around my knee. Her tongue touched mine, her hands, still slippery with the stuff on her hair, slid sensuously to the small of my back, and her breasts pushed against my chest. In my hands I felt her shoulder blades and then the sweep of her spine and the soft curves of her firm backside. It had been a while since I had felt a young woman like that in my arms. I was more than ready to take her there and then, lift her up and spread her legs and slam into her, hard and fast and deep. Her frantic hard kisses and groping fingers suggested that she would welcome such an approach, but suddenly she broke away and pushed me back a little, still gripping my arms tightly as she looked up at me and panted. The water fell in the space between us, cascading down my chest, splashing on her breasts, sweeping over my cock and her mons. Her eyes sparkled and she laughed, and said "Oh, boy, that's more like it! Christ! Its been a long time since I had a man kiss me!" She almost shook as she closed her eyes and ground her crotch against my leg for half a second, and them looked at me again and said "Oh, god but I want your cock in me." She grabbed it. Rinsed clean by the shower, it was hard enough to hurt. It felt a whole lot better when she dropped to her knees and took it in her mouth. After the initial physical surprise a second moment of shock hit me. I was looking down at this beautiful girl, both of us naked, as she sucked on my cock and looked up at me, her eyes smiling, her hand wanking my shaft, the other hand cradling my balls. The shock was that this was Carly. Eighteen years old, my friend's daughter, a girl I knew as a cute pigtailed ten year old with a front tooth missing, and as a spotty, snotty, pain in the ass hormotional fourteen year old who lucky to live to be fifteen. The one I had wanted to protect from the world, the other I had a strong desire to throttle. Now my desires were very different, and being fulfilled. The momentary pang of guilt (with flash of concern about what her mother would say if she found us like this) was swept away by the tingling in my balls and the lustful admiration I felt for her superb bosom. Classical sculptors and casting directors for lingerie shoots would cry and beg to work with her as a model. I wanted to hold them, kiss them, suck them, watch them bounce as she rode me, or as she lay on her back and I ploughed her. The idea of that would have stiffened me further, but the way she was sucking me had already raised me to my limit. The girl had talent as well as looks, and most importantly of all, enthusiasm. If I let her carry on I knew I wouldn't last long, and I wanted this to last. I wanted her legs wrapped round me and my cock in her body, balls deep, when I came. I reached down and touched her cheek, and pulled her up to me. She rose, kissing my left nipple on the way past to my lips. I had to return the complement and slid down to my knees, in worship of this nubile goddess. Her nipples hardened under my tongue, and I let my hands roam around her back and over her hips, taking her firm buttocks in my grip, pulling her body against me. She lifted a leg and put her foot on my thigh, opening access to the cleft between hers, and I accepted the invitation to run a finger round the curve of her bottom, over her exposed ass and onto her puffy pussy lips. I could feel they were shaved, and thick and firm, opening to my pressure, and letting me touch the softness within. Carly was wet inside, slippery and warm, and she arched her back and pressed down against my hand to take my finger in deeper. I heard her groan as I looked up at her, and saw her eyes were unfocussed. My thumb found her clitoris, and I felt her legs tremble as I drew a small circle round it with the tip while my tongue drew another around the nipple in my mouth. She trembled again and gasped and looked down at me wildly. For a moment she was still, wide eyed and mouth open, the shower jet bouncing off the back of her head to give her a halo above me, but then she grabbed me by the ears and pulled me back up, grunting "No, not yet!" She held the back of my neck and kissed me hard, and at the same time wrenched my hand away from her vulva. "Too fast!" she gasped, and held me still, an inch from her both sets of her lips. She panted and then opened her eyes and looked deep into mine, and said "Turn round." I was surprised by her request but complied as she spun me by the shoulders. She stopped me and ran a hand down my back to clutch my buttock. "Hmmn," she said, and I felt her other hand rub my back. "You are beautiful," she murmured. "I was playing with myself in here when I heard you knock. I was imagining you with me in the shower. I was almost about to come, thinking about you fingering me when I heard your voice." Her arms came round me, clutching my chest, then one hand settling on my stomach, agonising inches away from my cock. "God but you feel good., she said as she pressed her head against me. I could feel her whole body as she squeezed me to her. Then she said in a serious tone, "I'm going to wash you now, and then we can get dried off, and you can take me to bed. Okay? Just let me wash you, and dry you. This is important to me." I said "Sure." What else could I say? She stepped back and I heard the click of the shower gel bottle, and felt the cool soap on her hand as she applied it to my back. She worked efficiently, her fingers exploring my muscles, over my shoulders and arms, my back and buttocks, and down my legs. I was glad I had joined the gym last year. She worked her way back up each leg from my feet, having soaped between my toes as if I was a child. When she got to my upper inner thigh she pushed outwards to spread my legs. I complied. It was strange. This was almost clinical, almost hypnotic, almost not sexy. Of course as her hand came up to cradle and caress my balls I was turned on again, and as it slid back to soap around my anus and perineum I was caught by the intimacy of the act. I was also struck by the way she so openly and acceptingly handled those most hidden and so often shameful parts. She rinsed me and made me lean back as she shampooed my hair. Then she slid around me and backed me into the jet to wash the foam out. I made to say something and to lean forward to kiss her as she worked, but she put a finger to my lips and pushed my head back gently, so the water ran down my face and I stood with closed eyes as she soaped my chest and my legs and washed my cock. Suddenly it was over. The water stopped and I opened my eyes, and she was stepping out of the cubicle, and wordlessly she lifted a towel and beckoned me. I stepped out and she dried me, and somehow I knew I should say nothing, and when she was finished I lifted a new towel and dried her, as softly and thoroughly as she had dried me. I explored every crease and line, curve and crevice. It was intimate, delicate, wonderful. At the end we stood facing each other, clean and more naked than I had ever been, and we both smiled. Then, in a moment of heartbreaking beauty, she glanced down and up again, a half second of girlish shyness. I smiled, and she beamed. We held hands for a second and then I turned to the door and lead her across the living room, and into the bedroom. She laughed then, and said "Oh, you're kidding!" I smiled, a little embarrassed. "No. I don't have company that often." She looked from the single bed to me, and raised a hand to touch my cheek, and stepped close to me to kiss me in the softest, slightest, most gentle way. Then she looked me in the eyes and said "Well, it will have to do for today. But I don't expect to sleep on the sofa next time I stay over." And then she kissed me again and there were no more words for a long time. We made love. It is hard to describe it as anything else. We didn't fuck, we didn't screw, we didn't shag. But we did kiss and caress and lie together on the narrow bed. We took our time, and I reined back the rising urge to grasp and spread and plunge, and I felt the tension in her as she controlled her desire. It was strange. I have had a fair few lovers over the years, mostly of about the same age as myself, but this was without doubt one of the most profound, mature, grown up experiences of my life. The moment I penetrated her, the look in her eyes of willing and wanting, desire and gratitude, hope and joy and fulfilment, that moment of giving myself to her, and receiving so much back, that moment will live with me forever. And as we moved together, bodies entwined, a flowing grinding of hips and heartbeats, stealing each others breath, sharing every movement, I reached a place I had hardly known before. It was peace on earth, peace in my heart. I was almost obliterated in her presence. She surrounded my every sense. And inside that world of softness and warmth and beauty and sweetness and sensual sighs and cries and the musk and honey smell of her, I was free. She came. I came. I stayed hard as she clung to me and kept moving and built up again and came again, and I pushed her on and on again and a second wave of ultimate pleasure washed me away. In our narrow bed (ours now, no longer just mine) I lay with her on top of me and listened to her breathe. For a moment I thought she was going to fall asleep, but she roused herself, bringing her head up in a fluid, languid, immensely sexy movement. Her eyes were dark brown, and her pupils were so wide they were almost black. She spoke softly, a slight hoarseness in her throat. "Hi." "Hi." I replied. "That was... That was good." I smiled. "Yeah. Very. Thank you." She smiled broadly "Thank you. I was hoping it would be." And then, remarkably, she blushed, and buried her head on my chest. Curls I wasn't sure what to say, why she should be embarrassed, but I hugged her and said "Hey now my darling girl, hey what's up?" She shook her head and looked at me again. "It's silly. It doesn't matter. I promise I will tell you another time, later, after lunch, okay?" "Okay. All very mysterious, but fine by me." I hugged her again, and kissed her, and suddenly the kiss changed. It had started light and reassuringly jolly, but in half a second it became deeply tender and intimate. It was as if we fell again into the strange and wonderful state we had just achieved. Our lips parted and we opened our eyes, and looked at each other and smiled, and again she said "Thank you," in the softest voice that melted my heart. We paused a moment, and then she sighed and said "I have to move. I don't want to, and I don't want to go, but I have to visit the bathroom. Can I meet you in the kitchen in two minutes?" As she flitted away across the living room I realised I was starving. So I made my way to the fridge, and thanked providence that I had shopped the day before. "How about a fry?" I said as heard her come through the door from the hallway. She laughed. I looked round, and was stunned again by the sight of her. Tousled, naked, voluptuous, nubile, absolutely sexy. "I'm a vegetarian." "Ah." I said, holding a packet of bacon in one hand and a black pudding in the other. "How do you feel about eggs?" I added, as I put the meat back. She laughed again. "I think the punch line is 'I like them unfertilised' but it's a bit late for that!" I am glad I just looked confused for a moment. Horrified would have spoiled things. By the time I worked out the reference to the old joke she had realised what I might be thinking, and hurried to say "Not that they are. I mean, I'm not. Can't be. I'm on the pill. It's okay." Then I got it, and laughed, and went to hug her and apologise. We ate fried eggs, soda farls, potato bread, fried mushrooms and tomato. We talked, and talked, about being a veggie (I was for some years but lapsed when presented with Peking Duck) keeping pets (I don't, because I'm often away for work and can't look after them) and that lead on to work and life plans. I build stuff. Models and sets and props for films and TV. I do armour and hand weapons and bows as well. I can forge swords, and make longbows. And I enjoy it, and it is well enough paid, and really I don't plan to do anything else for a living. But I do travel, and learn, and want to see the world. Not surprisingly, Carly agreed. And she had plans to study (architecture). "You can help me build models," she said. "Ah, at last," I said "We come to the truth. You aren't just after my body." I said it lightly, but she blushed and looked down again. "No," she said. "Although it is a very nice body." I heard how serious she was, but couldn't help saying "Thank you. I try to keep it in good nick, but it is getting a bit old." "Not that old," she said, still sounding serious. "I mean, you aren't as old as my dad." That hit me hard. I had forgotten about her parents. They were divorced. Not surprisingly - he was a first class git. And to be honest he was a fair few years older than me. I was old enough to be her father. At least, if I had started having sex when I wanted to I could have been her dad. Given that I wanted to when I was eleven. "Okay, but I am nearly thirty. You are eighteen. It is a fair gap; big enough to be noticed. Which is a tiny issue which we might need to talk about." I tried to sound light, but we both knew it was a conversation which would change the day. I was surprised when she said "Okay. But not here. I'm getting cold. Come to bed, and warm me up." She pulled the curtains and got into the bed in the dark, and snuggled close to me. She sounded so serious when she spoke that in the darkness I broke into a smile which she could not see, but as I listened I realised that she was serious. "I want you to listen to me and not interrupt, okay. I don't expect you to say anything. Even when I've finished. I want you to think about what I've said. Okay?" "Okay." "I do this with Mum. Well, not this, not naked in bed, of course, but I talk to her and she has to keep quiet and then not talk for five minutes after I stop. It helps us not to row. So... I told you there was something I was going to say, but that I would tell you after lunch, so here it is." She paused for breath and said "I love you. I have been in love with you since I was twelve. I have fancied you since I was fourteen, and first started fancying anyone. I have dreamed of making love with you, in every different way, and I have died every time I met you and had to leave. I had to go and frig myself off at the party last Christmas after you sat beside me on the sofa. I know, I am a silly little girl with a crush, I should be chasing boys my own age, I have done that, you know, and girls too. I should never have said those three dreadful words, and you will probably run away after this, and no! Don't shush me or kiss me or interrupt me! You promised!" "Sorry," I mumbled, and let her continue, although when she went on she was less frantic sounding. "I don't expect you to understand this. And I don't expect you to say you love me, and I don't expect you to be my boyfriend and have to talk to my parents. But I want you to know how much I wanted this. And how much this meant to me. And that I know this can't last. And I'll get over it, and I'll find someone my own age one day and all that stuff. But, I also don't want this to be the end. I want to see you again and share this again. So if we have to do it in secret that's okay with me." She paused. Then said "Well that's about it. Now I'm going to make a pot of tea and I will come back in five minutes and you can speak then. Okay?" I was too surprised to protest, although I noticed she lifted my dressing gown as she left. She came in with the tea on a tray, and I was still lying on the bed in the dark. She said "Would you like a cup?" I said "Not yet. I have been thinking about what I should say, and I want to say it before I forget anything. And I would like you to get into bed with me the way you were before." She hesitated for half a second before putting down the tray and dropping the gown and sliding in beside me. "Okay. If I get this right, I can now talk for as long as I like without you interrupting. But what if I need to ask you a question?" "Only fair questions allowed. I can refuse to answer or ask you to rephrase it if I think it is unfair. It's best to keep to questions that only need short answers." "Okay. Then, when I have said my piece do you have to wait five minutes?" "Maybe. I can ask for the time to think, or you can specify it. Or you can just suggest we go back to normal conversation." "Alright. Well, I have thought about what you said. And I am very flattered and frankly amazed. And, well, overjoyed. My dear and darling Carly, I had no idea that you felt that way about me. Although I have to confess, I have been aware of your blossoming attractiveness over the last few years. I was well aware of your flirting with me, but I thought it was just the sort of safe, practice flirting that girl's do with friends of their parents, flexing the wings and trying out their power on older men who know better than to pursue them, but are happy to be played with by a beautiful girl. It's happened to me before. And I have to confess that I was, to my surprise, quite jealous when I met your boyfriend at that party last year." She blurted "Jealous!" and clapped her hand across her mouth so as not to interrupt any further. "Yes, jealous. And envious. I put it down to an avuncular protectiveness, at first. But as the evening wore on I recognised that I kept noticing him touch you, and you sat next to him with your leg and body against him. And you left early, to go to another party, and as you went out the door I saw him put his hand on your bottom. It was a familiar gesture; he had done it before and you didn't object. I knew he had touched you there, and more intimately. I stayed on for a while but I kept thinking about that. Wondering what you had done, what he had done, what you were really doing right at that moment. I wondered if you had really gone to another party, or maybe just gone to his place, or parked the car in some secluded spot. Or if, at the other party, you two had sneaked off to a spare bedroom, which I did with my girlfriend when I was your age." I looked at her in the half light of my curtained room as we lay naked in my bed, and I blushed as I went on "So when I got home that night, and lay here, I kept thinking about those things. And it turned me on. And I wanked myself silly while imagining what you were doing, and how good it would be to be the boy with you." I stopped and looked down. I couldn't look at her face "Which made me feel like a dirty old man. Which I kept thinking in the months afterwards, when you kept appearing in my fantasies. Of course I tried to convince myself that it wasn't that strange to be attracted to you. You are after all a beautiful young woman. If I had not known you before and met you at that party for the first time, I would have noticed you, appreciated your figure and your smile and your charming kindness and humour and your flirtatious glances. And I would have fancied you and maybe spun a little fantasy or two about you and been guilt free. But because I have known you and cared for you as a child I found it difficult to think of you in that way. But I did. I do. And finding out that you thought about me like that, well, I'm amazed and I feel so much better. And..." I paused and got the courage to look up at her. She was smiling, with a slightly amused look. I went on "What just happened here, was better than anything I ever imagined. And not just because, to be honest, you are more beautiful and sexy in the flesh than mere thought could conjure. It was more than just physical. It was one of the most blissful emotionally fulfilling experiences I have ever had. I felt at ease with you, connected, involved, immersed. Loved. And I felt, I thought, well, I think that I couldn't feel that way with someone unless they felt that way too. So I have to ask you, was what we just did, was it like that for you?" She nodded. "It was different. Not like other times. Except sometimes with Genie, a bit. And it was wonderful." "So," I said, "although it sounds crazy, and like I'm some sort of weird old pervert stalker, I have to say, Carly my dear, I don't care what happens, or who we have to face down, but I am absolutely never going to let you go. I never thought I would find a woman who made me feel this way. I never even knew I could. So never, ever apologise for saying you love me ever again. I want to hear you say it every day, every morning and every night. It makes my heart sing. It makes it ache. And I want to say it to you. Because I do. I'm as silly as any schoolboy, I have a crush on you, but I mean a great deal more than that. I love you, Carly. Every bit of you that I know. And I don't just mean your body. I love your kindness and they way you have stood by your mother and worked so hard to get to university. But I also have to say, I love your body. And I love what you do with it." She had moved her legs to wrap them around mine, and brought her face closer to me, her breasts were touching my arm and the side of my chest, and her hand came up to stroke my face as I talked. "I love you Carly. I have loved you for years, and desired you for a long time. And if it turns out that you and I can't be together, and I understand that maybe it will be hard, then I will be heartbroken, and I will still love you." I stopped speaking, and looked I to her eyes, shining with tears. "Is that okay?" "Have you finished now?" she said. "Do you want me to go away and think about what you have said?" "No!" I blurted. "No, I don't want you to go away. But yes I have finished. I mean if you want to go you can, but I would prefer it if you could stay. You don't have to say anything, I mean..." She moved in swiftly and kissed me. A light kiss that just touched my lips and stopped me talking. Then she whispered "You talk too much. It is quiet time now. I could call for time to think. But I don't need it. Let's make it time to love instead." Her body against mine was suddenly warm and soft. She moved over me and wrapped herself around me, and I found my hands holding her firm bottom and her mouth was fixed on mine. Our tongues teased each other, and her furry crotch pressed against my half hard cock. We didn't speak much, just the same three words exchanged back and forth as we explored our bodies again. Her lips whispered it against mine and I mouthed it back. They rang softly in my ear as she gently bit my lobe, and I growled them into that hollow at the base of her neck as my tongue delved to taste her. She said it as I sucked her nipple and half her breast into my mouth and flicked the hard tip with my tongue. I said it as I snatched a breath when moving to the other side. And again as I pushed my hips up and my cock tip, hard again, pressed her outer lips open and found the warm softness within. She arched her back and slid downwards, accepting me, drawing my love inside her, saying the words, shuddering beautifully, her breasts trembling a few inches from my eyes, her back muscles rippling beneath my hands. When I was in, all the way, her legs stretched wide and belly pressing hard against my stomach, curly hair entwined and faces almost level, she rocked slowly with her eyes closed, and I lay still. Then her eyes snapped open and she stared at me for a moment, and I couldn't breathe. Her hair was wild about her head, her nipples were standing out hard and dark, and her pussy clenched around my prick. Her jaw trembled as she looked at me with open mouth and eyes wide. She was almost coming. I could hardly believe it. Her hips began to shake, moving her pussy up and down, back and forth, tiny movements accompanied by strong pulses inside her, quicker, and quicker, her breath stopped, apart from tiny grunts and gasps, and then a moment of infinite beauty as she arched upwards and pressed down and I felt her body shake and pulse and grip me and go rigid. She froze for a heatbeat, and then I felt her flood and soften and sway and heard her draw a breath so deep that her grasping slit was momentarily relaxed and soft. She grabbed my head and dragged me to her lips, showering me with kisses until she ran out breath, and with the last gasp of oxygen in her body she said it again. I cradled her then, and kissed her hair as she lay on my chest, and I murmured the words again. Every time I said it I meant it, and every time it meant something different. It couldn't last forever, and in the end Carly had to break the moment. I had heard her breathing return to normal, and she shifted a little, letting the end of my cock slip out of her body. She sighed, and raised herself on her elbows, looking at me again. "You know I tell Mum everything. Even about Genie." She said it simply. "She bought me a double bed for my seventeenth birthday. King size actually. She let Gaven stay over at weekends, when she was away or out late. The one thing she asked was that we didn't bonk with her in the house." "Well, that's pretty enlightened of her." I said, processing this flood of revelation. "But it may be a bit different telling her about me." She shrugged. "Yeah. I suppose getting horny with a guy from school is one thing, but ... Although she knows I fancy you, and she has never said anything against it. She likes you. And I can always say I seduced you." I laughed. "Which would not be far from the truth. So you told her, before, that you fancied me? And she didn't warn you off?" "Oh yes, she did. It was a year ago. Or more. She laughed at first, and then looked at me seriously and said 'It's one thing having a boyfriend your own age. But until you are legally old enough to wed him, he will get in trouble if you bed him. And you could, I'm sure. He's a nice guy, but he's no saint. So don't tempt him, because if he falls, it will be you who will have brought him down.' I remembered it exactly, because I took it to heart. Because I didn't want to get you in trouble." I smiled ruefully. "Well, thank you for waiting until the law isn't interested, but I'm still not convinced your mother will be okay about this. Or your father." "Or Genie. Although she never likes any of my boyfriends, so no change there. But Mum will be fine. She likes you. I think she fancies you a bit herself. And Dad... well, I don't care much what he thinks. And he won't come after you with a baseball bat. He thinks I'm a slut and a whore anyway, so he might look down on you, like the hypocritical shithead he is, but he won't kick up about it." "Ah." I said. "Not getting on with him at the moment?" "Never did. I put up with him so as not to make it harder on mum, but when he started on at me about boys and wouldn't let me out with Gaven on the weekends when I had to stay at his place, well, I sort of lost it one day. So I told him it was too late to protect my virginity, and if I wanted to shag Gav, or anyone else he couldn't stop me. It was a huge row and he said lots of things that I knew he really did mean." She looked away at that, burning with shame at the memory of whatever insults he had hurled ('whore' and 'slut' obviously, and probably worse. As I say, he is a class A git). She went on "But I had to put up with it until the court orders ran out on my birthday this year. So I bit my tongue again and ignored his snide remarks and his insults. But of course when I went round on the day after my eighteenth for him to give me a present there was his latest girlfriend - Sophie Warwick, who was at my school a few years above me. I mean she is maybe twenty-one, maybe not. And she had shagged half the boys in her class by time she was fifteen. So I called the kettle black. I haven't spoken to him since. But if he can fuck her then he can't complain about you fucking me." I was shocked by her language and her bitterness. I touched her cheek and she looked at me again, and I smiled and said softly "Knowing your father as I do, I can imagine that the parallel would not occur to him. And he would be right not to compare me and you with him and, what was it, Sophie? Because he may very well be fucking her, but I have never fucked you. I have," I said, placing a finger on he protesting lips, "been making love with you. Which is very different to fucking. Its a lot more fun for a start." She looked at me blankly and silently for a moment and then smiled hugely. "You are right. Although," she looked coyly at me "sometimes it is nice to be fucked. Just taken, hard and rough and passionate and wild." Her eyes sparkled and she had an eyebrow raised in enquiry. "Okay," I said, almost laughing, "I agree, and I shall no doubt do just that on future occasions, but even then it will be because I love you and you drive me wild." "Oooh," she said, in a teasing way, "and what if I'm naughty and bad, will that drive you wild? Will you spank me and tie me up?" "Are we into your fantasy ideas now? Is that what you imagined me doing to you when you play with yourself at night?" I asked. She looked coy again. "Well... Sometimes. I have all sorts of fantasies. Most of them with you in them." "Most? Only most?" I said in mock outrage. "Well, I have had other boyfriends, and girlfriend's, and fancied other people too. So being in most of my fantasies is pretty good really. I don't expect that I'm in all of yours." "Fair enough." I shrugged. "speaking of girlfriends, you mentioned Genie. You have some kind of relationship with her?" Curls "Yeah, some kind," she laughed. "Mostly we are just mates. I've known her since first form, and her parents are really cool, and very nice to me. They knew how it was with Dad so they used to have me to stay at weekends or when Mum got caught up with work. So I slept over in her room, sharing a bed. Wasn't long before we started playing about. And we still do, when the opportunity arises. But we both have boyfriends, and we have never thought of ourselves as a couple, you know, just good friends." "I'm okay with that you know." I said "Good," she said with a grin, and then paused. In a quiet voice she said "This could all get serious awfully quick." I stroked her head, and said "Only if you want it to. I'll be honest, I have had the best morning of my life, today, and I never expected it, and while I would like an awful lot more, I know I can't expect it. You don't have to make me any promises. You can get dressed and walk away. We can take it one day at a time. One minute at a time, and I will cherish every minute, and be thankful when, and if, you let me spend another with you." She laughed then, an almost sad laugh, and gave me a strange smile. "You know a girl could get the idea that you were trying to give her the brush off. But you aren't, are you? You mean it. Which is nice. Okay, you are right I don't need to make promises. And nor do you. But I can tell you how I feel right now. Right now I want to be with you every day. Every night. And right now I want to do that forever. And I know it might be a bit awkward. And Christ knows what my friends will say when I turn up at the pub with you. But that doesn't matter. Because we will find out about that later this evening." "Are we going to the pub this evening then?" I asked. "Yes. We are meeting Genie at 6.00, and going for a drink and something to eat, then being joined by the rest of the gang about eight. But I don't want to stay out late, I want to be home here in bed with you by midnight." I laughed, "Sounds like a good plan, but won't we have to clear it with your mum?" "Yes. No prob." She pushed herself up and jumped off me. "I'll get my phone." "Hi Mum!" said Carly into the mobile as she walked back into the bedroom. "Yeah, no bother..... No, no, but I was wondering if you had plans for tonight or tomorrow?" He voice was light and jolly, and she smiled at me as she came to sit on the bed. I wasn't quite panicking, but I was very uneasy about this sudden turn of events. "Yeah, yeah, I am going for tea with Genie, but I meant later on. Aren't you out with Mags and the gang?... Yeah, so I thought I you are going to be home late I might as well stay over here again... Yeah, I'm still at Tim's.... No, Genie went to work... No I don't think she'll be staying tonight, I wasn't thinking of inviting her. Three's a crowd you know?" Carly winked at me, and I held my breath. I could just hear her mother's voice. Not the words but the tone came across. It didn't sound like she was annoyed, just curious. Carly put a finger to her lips and brought the phone down from her ear, and put it on speaker. I heard her say "Is this something to do with what we talked about? About Tim?" "Yes, Mum." "I thought when you rang last night that you sounded shifty. I suppose it is too late to advise caution?" "Yes, Mum. Far too late." "Ah. So if Genie was staying over with you last night..." "This morning, Mum. And before you ask, it was all my fault. I made the move on him." There was silence for a moment. A long moment. Then her mother said "So she went to work and so did you, eh? Well, you are both over eighteen, and I'm sure you know what you are doing, even if he probably doesn't. Is he there?" "Gone to get food, there's nothing in the fridge but bacon," Carly lied without a blush. "Well, when he gets back you can tell him I said..." there was a long pause while her mother thought and then she said "Tell him it's okay. Tell him I'm fine about it. But the usual rules apply. Including Sunday evenings, okay?" "Yes, Mum. And Mum?" "Yes, Darling?" "Thanks, Mum. And I promise I will be careful with him. He is a nice guy." Her mother snorted. "I told you so. And what I said still stands - I don't think he'll break your heart, but you could easily break his. He's vulnerable darling. Try not to hurt him, he doesn't deserve it." "I'll do my best Mum, really." "I know. I love you darling, see you tomorrow at tea-time." "Love you too, Mum." Carly clicked off the phone and looked at me with a grin. "See, sorted." I had watched and listened with mixed feelings. I was lying there naked, on a bed in which I had been making love to this girl, who was also naked, while she chatted to her mother and told her what had happened. Not in any detail, thank goodness, but Valerie now knew that I had sex with her little daughter this morning. So embarrassment had flooded me, and it had to be admitted, desire for the beautiful creature that sat before me. I asked her "What did she mean by 'the usual rules'?" "I have to be home by midnight, or have rung her to let her know what I'm up to, where I'm staying, etc. If I want a boyfriend to stay over at our place I have to let Mum know before hand, just so she doesn't get a surprise in the night if she is wandering about with no nightie. And of course, no bonking when she is in the house. And, unless there is some very good reason not to, I have to be home for tea on Sundays. Mum cooks and we get a chance to sit down at the table together at least one evening a week. Boyfriends are invited to join us. It isn't compulsory, but it is encouraged. And by her tone I know she meant me to ask you to join us tomorrow." "Good lord," I said. "You can't avoid her forever. I know it is awkward, but we can get it over with. And really she will be fine. Its me that has to watch out." "What do you mean?" Carly looked embarrassed now but said "We have talked about you a couple of times, and how I've had a crush on you. And Mum told me that you had been badly treated by a girl before, and that although she has a fairly poor opinion of most men she thinks quite highly of you, and she wouldn't want to see you fall for me only to have me dump you in a couple of weeks and run off with another bloke. She really tried to put me off going out with an older guy in general, because she reckons I'll get bored, but at the same time she was so concerned about me not being bad to you because you are such a good guy. So I asked her if perhaps she fancied you herself." There was a subtle pause then. So I rose to the bait and said "What did she say to that?" Carly gave me a sideways look and said "What would you like her to have said?" "No, no. I'm not playing those silly games, my darling. You know damn well that I have known Valerie for, what, eight years now, and she has been a good boss in the early days and a close friend since, but I have never made a pass at her, never asked her out, never suggested anything more than what there has been. She is an attractive woman, and on occasions I have been attracted to her, but the chemistry isn't there. My heart doesn't rise at the thought of seeing her." "But it does for me?" "Yes. For quite a while now." I said, and she smiled, and my heart rose. "Well, Mum said something about the same about you. That she likes you and yes she has flirted with you, but that you just don't melt her butter." I laughed. "And how about your butter?" Carly leaned forward and her lips almost touched mine as she said "Sizzling..."