5 comments/ 227418 views/ 37 favorites Tracey Ch. 01 By: woody_strokem Author's Note: This version of Tracey has been modified since first publication on 11/03/2004 for continuity purposes and to correct minor grammatical errors. -W.S. When I was a senior in high school, my parents decided to rent out a room in our house. Dad taught at a local college and professors often took in upper grad students who were looking for a quiet, off-campus living situation. On a college professor's salary, a little extra money was always appreciated. The room in question was my brother Dan's old room in the basement, next to mine. We had a ranch style house built into the side of a hill, and the basement had windows facing the back yard. Dan and I had pretty much held reign over the floor, and our parents seldom came down there. When my parents told me of their plans to rent Dan's room, I was a little upset at first. I had planned on transferring some of my stuff to the spacious room to set up a little hang-out area all my own. No such luck. One day when I got home from school my mother called me into the livingroom. "Steve, honey, would you come in here for a moment?" Mom was sitting on the couch, and across from her sat a pretty young woman. "Steve, this is Tracey. She'll be moving into Dan's old room this weekend." "Hi, Tracey," I said, shaking her hand. "Hey! I hope you don't mind me moving into your territory..." she smiled. Any reservations I had about it melted right then. "No, that's ok," I said. "Will you make sure it's cleaned out before this weekend, sweetheart?" Mom said. "Yeah," I said. "Nice meeting you, Tracey." "Nice meeting you Steve. See you this weekend!" Tracey Ch. 01 "Have to protect against peeping Toms," she said, poking her head through the curtain. I just blushed and entered my room, but she followed me out and closed my own curtain behind me. "Or peeping Tracey's!" she said, sticking her head in my room and smiling wickedly at me. "Are you going to let me get some sleep or what?" I said, still grinning. "Good night," she said. "Good luck tomorrow!" Tracey Ch. 02 Author's Note: This version of Tracey Ch. 2 has been modified since first publication on 11/09/2004 for continuity purposes and to correct minor grammatical errors. -W.S. Tracey acted perfectly normal around me the next day, her usual cheerful self. It was therefore inconceivable to me that she had seen me standing in her doorway the night before. My fears evaporated, and along with them any remaining restraint that kept me from peeping through her curtain. I had begun to suspect that more than carelessness was to blame for the increasingly frequent opportunities I had to catch glimpses of her. For one thing, she only seemed concerned with keeping her curtain closed and dressing "appropriately" when my parents were home. The laundry room was in the basement and Mom constantly had a load going--you never knew when she might wander by. But in those days my parents often went away during weekends. Now that I was technically an adult, they took advantage of their new freedom with frequent overnight trips into the city or upstate to visit friends, leaving the house to Tracey and me. It was during these weekends that Tracey shunned her boxers and pranced around the basement at night wearing only panties and tee-shirts that scarcely reached her mid-thigh. Likewise, I continued going shirtless, wearing only boxers or boxer briefs. One Friday night after my parents had left for a weekend in the city, I was down in my room doing chin-ups. Dan and I had replaced our flimsy curtain rods with sturdy metal piping for just such a purpose, and used to have contests. By the time he had left for college, I was evenly matched with him. I had stripped down to my boxer briefs and they were clinging tightly to my body with sweat by the time I had completed a second set. I was doing a set of sit-ups when I heard Tracey come down the stairs. "Hey Steve," she said as she shed her coat and backpack in her room and came back to my doorway. "Little late-night work out?" she said. "Yeah. Just one more set of chin-ups after this. Dan and I used to have contests--there's bar in your door as well," I explained. "Is that a challenge?" she, raising an eyebrow. "Sure!" I said. "Just lemme finish this set of sit-ups." "Ok, I'll get ready," she said, quickly retreating to her room. She returned in a flash, wearing a tee-shirt and panties. I felt a stirring in my groin at the sight of her scantily clad body. Her small pink tee-shirt, bearing the word "Foxy" emblazoned in sparkly letters across her breasts, barely reached the hem of her panties. Her breasts jiggled as she walked around, her nipples pressing through the flimsy fabric. Her panties formed a vee at her hip at the thin elastic waistband, and I could see her butt cheeks flex as she pushed her curtain aside and reached up to grab the bar. I stood up and quickly adjusted my swollen penis, shoving it down the leg of my boxers. I grabbed the bar in my door, looking straight ahead as I took the weight off my legs and dangled from my arms. "OK, start like this," I instructed. I gazed over and watched as she assumed the starting position, her tee-shirt riding up nearly to her ribs, her pelvis jutting out to create a chasm between her belly and the hem of her panties. "Ready? OK, let's go," I said, slowly pulling myself up and glancing to the side to make sure I was matching her pace. We completed a first chin-up together and let ourselves back down, but as I began a second she started thrashing her legs and burst into giggles. "I'm such a wimp," she said, hanging limply from the bar. She let go and dropped to her knees, still giggling uncontrollably. I let go of the bar and stood up. "It's always hard when you're first starting. Dan and I used to spot each other when we started getting tired." "Really? Will you spot me?" she said, regaining her composure and reaching for the bar again. "Sure," I said. I slid behind her and took hold of her shins as she began pulling herself up. When she got about halfway she started to struggle, so I gave her a little assistance. "Two!" she grunted as her chin passed the bar. "OK, one more," I said as she lowered herself back down. This time she didn't get far at all, and began thrashing her legs and giggling once again. "Aahhhh! Don't let me fall!" she screamed. I stepped forward and reached my right arm around her midsection. But instead of straightening her legs, she kept a firm grip on the bar and reached her legs back, wrapping them around my waist. I was fully erect at this point, and my cock was tenting out the fabric of my boxer briefs. "I'm letting go! Catch me!" she warned. Her legs locked around my waist so when she released the bar I had to grab her with both arms. My left hand made contact with the soft flesh of her breast, and I felt her ass grind into my pelvis. My cock was rubbing against the inside of her thigh. She was giggling uncontrollably and thrashing around in my arms. I felt like I was about to lose balance so I took a few blind steps back, aiming for her bed. My calves met the edge of the mattress and I plopped down backwards, still holding onto Tracey. Her ass was still pressed against my groin and as we landed my cock wedged itself between her legs. Terrified that she would notice, I sat up and tried to scoot her off my lap. But she was still giggling and leaned forward to rest her hands on my knees, sliding back against me until I was staring right down at her ass. Her panties had started riding down, struggling to contain the gorgeous lobes of her tight ass, and a large bare patch of her lower back was visible where her tee-shirt had slid up. I felt my erect cock jutting out at an obscene angle as it strained against my boxer briefs, threatening to break through the hole in front. She must have been looking straight at it because she stopped laughing. We both remained still for a moment, and then she started to scoot forward to slide slowly off my lap. As she did, the fabric of my boxers tightened painfully against my cock until I felt it spring free, lancing through the pee hole when it reached her crotch. I felt it drag along her crotch, then down her ass crack as she slowly slid down its length. It caught on the loose material of her panties at the base of her ass, then sprung free and slapped loudly against my bare stomach. I quickly stuffed my cock back in my boxers and grabbed a pillow to shove in my lap before she had time to turn around. "Are you OK?" she said, pulling at her panties to release the wedgie I'd given her. She sat down at her desk chair. "Yeah, I'm fine. You don't weigh much at all," I croaked. My face was burning and I felt a bead of sweat drip off my forehead. "Well, at least you got a good workout!" she teased. I tried to will my erection to go down but despite my nervousness and embarrassment, it remained hard as a rock, pulsating beneath the weight of the pillow. I heard my heart beating in my head as I tried to strategize a way to get back to my room without her detecting it. Tracey was obviously flushed herself, and her ruddy cheeks glowed with perspiration. "Guess I should take a shower, I'm all sweaty now!" she said finally. "Did you want to go first?" "Oh, no--you go ahead. I can...I mean, I was gonna do another set," I said. She quickly got up and grabbed a clean shirt and pair of panties from her dresser. "Thanks, Steve. I'll hurry!" she said, and hurried out the door. Tracey Ch. 02 "You're not gonna live to tell about it!" she screamed in mock rage. She dropped the pillow and put her hands around my throat, shaking my neck and pretending to choke me. I grabbed her arms and flipped around on my back, pretending to gasp for breath. Suddenly I became aware of our position. Tracey was straddling me, and my cock was directly beneath her crotch. The electrifying sensation of our warm legs touching and her soft hands around my neck was too much for me. My penis rapidly became rigid, her crotch hovering inches above it. We both stopped our struggle at the same time and locked eye contact. "You better not say a word," Tracey said, going through the motions of playing out our little pretend battle. I detected a faint raspiness to her voice. She released her grip on my neck and sat back, dragging her hands along my chest and letting them rest on my stomach. I gasped as the weight of her warm crotch descended on my rock hard erection. We held eye contact for a long moment that felt like an eternity, and then she broke the silence. "Thanks for helping me, Steve," she said, lifting herself off me and gathering her books. She left without another word. Tracey Ch. 03 Author's Note: The first two chapters of Tracey (see: Chapter 1, Chapter 2) have been modified to correct minor grammatical errors and continuity issues, and a few details have been added here and there. You might want to re-read them before continuing with Chapter 3. -W.S. I saw little of Tracey over the next few days. I began to worry that she was avoiding me, but my fears were quickly dispelled when she came into my room the following Friday night and put on a CD, then sat on my bed and casually chatted about her week. When the inevitable lull in the conversation arrived, Tracey looked up at me and spoke. "Steve, about last week...," she began. I braced for bad news. "What happened last weekend was the hottest thing I've ever experienced. It was--you were amazing! You are the sweetest, sexiest, most attractive guy I've ever known. No one has ever made me...," Her voice trailed off. I stared down at my feet and waited for her to continue. "But if your parents found out, they'd kill me! And I wouldn't blame them--you're only 18! You're 4 years younger than me!" She paused for a moment and I looked up at her. "Why couldn't you just be 4 years older?" she smiled. "Steve, can we go back to being friends?" I might have acted a little disappointed with her request, but the truth is that I felt oddly relieved. As much as I lusted after her, my main concern had been losing her friendship. What's more, her heart-felt compliments made my head swell with pride. The following week at school, I glowed with self-confidence. I had a perpetual grin on my face that prompted strange looks from my friends. And when Jessica Peters greeted me one afternoon in math class, I saw for the first time that she was not merely being polite. Her eagerness and broad smile made it obvious that she liked me, though I'd been blind to it before. That Friday I asked her out. Meanwhile, my friendship with Tracey blossomed. Now that Jim was out of the picture, she looked to me for entertainment. We could often be found watching movies together, listening to music, even tracking the whereabouts of my parents, sneaking upstairs to steal beers from the fridge when they were away. For several weeks, my parents remained home during the weekend, and I began to wonder when their next trip would be. Tracey and I talked about having a party next time they were gone, but without knowing when that would be we could hardly start inviting people. Then one evening in mid-December, we had our answer. We were all seated at the dinner table when Mom and Dad announced they had something to tell me. Tracey, who joined us for dinner once or twice a week, began clearing the dishes. "It's okay dear, you don't have to leave," my mother said. Tracey sat back down. "Sweetheart, your father and I have decided to go away this Christmas," my mother began. I guessed where this was heading and shot a quick glance at Tracey. She was about to take a sip of water but froze with the glass a few inches from her mouth, staring at my mother expectantly. "Of course we'd love it if you came," my mother went on, "but since your brother is staying at school over break, you'd be stuck with your father and I for 3 weeks. We decided you'd be happier at home." I copped my best look of disappointment. "Well, I guess so--" I began dejectedly, but was cut off when Tracey, who had just taken a sip of her water, suddenly erupted in a fit of coughing. Water shot out of her mouth and nose as she snarfed her drink all over her shirt. "Goodness, are you alright dear?" my mother said, placing a hand on Tracey's back. Tracey coughed a few more times then reached for her napkin to clean her face. "I'm fine Mrs. McKenna--just went down the wrong pipe," She said, shooting me a quick wide-eyed glare. My mother looked at me again. "Stephen, you're more than welcome to join us if--" she said. "No--it's okay Mom, I'll be fine," I said, "Besides, I already promised coach I'd be around to lead practice." "Wonderful!" said my mother. She turned to Tracey again. "And what are your plans for Christmas, dear? Will you be traveling home?" "No ma'am, I'll be around," she answered, "I have a lot of reading to catch up on and I'm putting in some extra hours at the bookstore for the holiday rush." "Oh, that's marvelous! You two can keep each other company!" my mother beamed. "Did you hear that, Stephen? Tracey will be here while we're gone! But promise me you'll stay out of her hair when she's doing her homework." She turned back to Tracey. "You must tell Stephen if he's bothering you, dear. You know how he likes to blare that radio of his..." "Yes, Mrs. McKenna." Tracey Ch. 03 I sank down and completely submerged myself in the deep basin to wet my hair. Just as I surfaced, I heard Tracey calling my name from downstairs. "Up here!" I yelled. Tracey came upstairs and walked into my parents' bedroom. "Are you in the shower?" she called through the open door of the bathroom. "No," I answered, splashing the water a little to provide her with another clue. She rounded the corner and found me smiling smugly at her from the luxurious bath. "Hey!" she screamed, "No fair!" "Hey Tracey," I said non-chalantly, "be a doll and bring me a beer, wouldja love?" "Ha! I'll bring you a beer all right, but you better make room for me! You don't get that all to yourself!" She disappeared for several minutes. I was starting to wonder exactly what she meant when she returned wrapped in a towel, holding two beers. "How's the water?" she said, placing the beers on the side of the tub. Before I could answer, she shed the towel and slid into the tub opposite me. She was completely naked. "I was wondering when you'd get around to using this!" she said, leaning back and taking a sip of beer. "Hey, want to turn the jets on?" she asked, indicating the small control panel on the edge of the tub I hadn't noticed before. "Sure," I agreed. She pressed a button and the hot tub came to life. Powerful jets shot up from the sides of the bath filling it with bubbles, and lights within the tub came on, illuminating the water with a magical glow. "Cool!" we said in unison. Tracey leaned back against one of the jets on her side. "Mmmmm--massage..." she purred, closing her eyes. I followed her lead and sat in front of one of the jets. The sensation of it pounding against my lower back was incredible. We bathed in silence for a while, sipping our beers and letting the water jets work their magic. "When was the last time you took a bath with someone?" Tracey said at last, sliding away from the jet. "My brother and I used to take baths when we were kids," I admitted. "Me too!" she beamed. "I took baths with my brother all the time. We used to compare our bodies. He would show me his pee-pee and I would show him my wee-wee," she went on, lapsing into an innocent voice. "I didn't really have any boobies back then..." My pee-pee twitched in response to her innocent comments. We were silent for a while, then Tracey slid over to my side of the tub. She leaned in front of me and gazed at my chest. "My brother's chest didn't have any hair," she said, "and it was much flatter than yours." She lifted her hand out of the water and held it out tentatively, about to touch my chest. "Can I feel...?" she whispered, as if it was a particularly daring request. I flexed my pecs involuntarily as she placed her hand on my chest. She smirked at my machismo but she seemed impressed nonetheless. "They're hard," she said, gently pressing and massaging her fingers into my pecs and around my nipples, causing them to stiffen in response. She withdrew her hand and gazed down at her own chest. "Mine are bigger than yours," she said, "but softer." I gazed down at her breasts, but they were obscured by the bubbly surface of the water. She followed my gaze, then put her elbows on the edge of the tub and lifted herself up slightly until her breasts were visible. "See?" she said, grasping one of her breasts, "mine are bigger." She looked at me again and waited for me to acknowledge this fact. She smiled when I nodded in agreement. "But they're softer than yours," she went on, gently squeezing her tit. "See?" I nodded again, but this didn't seem to satisfy her. She slid a bit closer to me and withdrew her hand, turning slightly so that her breasts were at my eye level. "See?" she said again, peering down at my hand then back at her breasts. I held my hand out until it was a few inches from her breast, then looked at her again to see her reaction. Her gaze was fixed expectantly on my hand. I brought my fingers to the smooth, pale skin of her breast and gently touched it. I was struck by how easily the soft flesh yielded to my touch. She arched her back slightly, and as I glanced my fingers across her nipples, they became erect as mine had done. "They're soft," I said at last, removing my hand. She let out a breath of air as if she had been holding it in the whole time then sank down in the water and stared ahead for a moment. Then she turned back to me. "I remember my brother's...his penis--it was pretty small...," she said. "Mmm-hmm," I said faintly. "Could I...I mean, do you think I could see yours? To compare?" "Oh--you mean...you want to...?" I stalled. "Just to see what it looks like," she said innocently, "I just...," Modesty at this point seemed absurd, but I hesitated a moment longer until she dropped her head and gazed up at me, puffing out her lower lip. "Okay," I agreed. Her expression brightened again. The hot water of the jacuzzi had somehow prevented me from becoming fully erect, but my penis had started to swell the moment Tracey entered the tub. And the innocent game of doctor she was playing at now was really making me hot. My penis swung heavily from side to side as I lifted out of water and sat on the edge of the tub. Tracey scooted closer to me and twisted around to inspect my penis. She had the innocent and slightly amused expression of a curious child. "It's...bigger," she began. When my penis twitched in response, she gasped in delight and smiled up at me with a look of wide-eyed wonder. Then she returned her gaze to my crotch. She furrowed her brow slightly. "...and my brother's penis--it had more skin, you know? On the tip?" She looked up at me with a puzzled expression. "Oh, umm...that must mean he wasn't circumcised," I replied. "That's right," she said, "now I remember. He was uncircumcised." She looked at my penis again and leaned a little closer. "I like it much better this way," she decided, "I like it circumcised." It twitched again at her remark of approval. Then again, and again. Tracey stared in awe as my cock grew fully erect before her very eyes. When it finally reached its apex at a 45-degree angle from my stomach, she looked up at me again. "I don't remember my brother's penis doing that...," she said, barely suppressing a mischievous smile. I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out, so I sank back into the water. We both stared blankly ahead for a while until she spoke again. "So, do you want to see...?" We looked at each other. "Do you want to see what a girl looks like?" she said. "Okay," I responded throatily. Tracey stood up and sat on the edge of the tub, parting her legs slightly. She placed her hand on her belly and gazed down at her crotch. "Can you see?" she said, pressing in on her flat belly and looking up at me. I turned around and stood in the deep whirlpool so that I was facing her and bent my knees to rest them on the seat. I gazed between Tracey's legs at the faint blond patch of pubic hair clinging to the folds of her vagina. "Yeah," I said hoarsely. She followed my gaze down to her crotch, then lowered her hand slightly so that it covered her pubic hair. Then she drew her legs out of the water and braced her heels on the lip of the tub, then spread her legs apart further. And then, as if about to reveal a secret she held most dear, she met my gaze and slowly ran her fingers over the folds of her vagina. I drew closer and the secret was unveiled, blossoming between her fingers like the petals of a flower. "See?" she said again, almost whispering. "Yes," I croaked. I eagerly accepted this opportunity to examine Tracey's vagina under the pretext of playing doctor, and found my gaze riveted to its pink folds of flesh that glistened with moisture in the shimmering blue light of the jacuzzi. It struck me as the sexiest, most beautiful thing I'd ever seen--very different from the repellent images in my friends' hardcore magazines--and my cock throbbed painfully as its salty aroma greeted my nose. "Look," she said, leaning forward and spreading the lips of her pussy apart further, "want to see my clitoris?" She slid her hand up her pussy and placed her index finger on the hood of flesh at the top, then pulled it back to reveal the hidden pearl beneath. "That's my clit," she whispered, meeting my gaze again. My cock throbbed at her use of the word. I nodded dumbly, unable to take my eyes off it. Tracey leaned her head back for a moment and closed her eyes, then released the flap of skin that covered her clit and ran her two middle fingers down the length of her pussy again. She rubbed them up and down once or twice, then gasped when they slid beneath the surface. She inserted them until they were buried to her second knuckle; when she withdrew them, they were coated with moisture. "I'm wet," she said in a raspy voice, "my pussy is wet...." She looked at me again, then at her pussy. "And see," she went on. She rubbed her wet fingers in a few quick circles over the hood of skin that covered her clitoris then retracted it again. "It's swollen. My clit is swollen...." Suddenly, she drew her hand away from her pussy and up along her stomach until it brushed her erect nipple. Then she sat up and put her arms at her side, trying to resume a sober expression. But when she spoke at last there was still a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Is that normal, Doctor?" she said. I had to swallow hard a couple times to regain my speaking voice. "Umm...I'm not...," I began, staring down at the water. "You don't think it's serious, do you?" she said in feigned concern. "Well, I'd uhh...I'd have to take a closer look," I braved at last. She narrowed her eyes slightly and glanced at me with suspicion. Then she leaned over to turn the whirlpool jets off, pressing another button so that the lights inside the tub stayed on. She stood up and grabbed a towel from the linen shelf and wrapped it around herself, then stood at the edge of the tub and peered down at me standing in the center of the tub. "I should probably take a look at you as well," she said, gazing with concern into the water below my waist. I suddenly realized that my cock, still painfully erect, was completely visible through the motionless water. She stepped onto the pillow-strewn platform and motioned for me to follow. I got out of the tub as Tracey was laying a blanket down on the cushioned surface and arranging pillows to lean on. "The bath makes it nice and warm in here," Tracey said, kneeling down on the blanket. She removed her towel and handed it to me. I dried myself off and kneeled down next to her. The light reflected from the surface of the hot tub filled the alcove with a soft rippling glow. We faced each other in rapt silence, staring at each other's bodies as if for the first time. After several minutes, Tracey slowly lifted her hand to her breast and began caressing her nipple. Her gaze had been fixed on my body; now it rested on my cock, which had softened slightly from the distraction and uncertainty of what would come next. "I'm not really that much older than you," Tracey said at last. I met her gaze. "And anyway, you are 18, right?" I nodded. "And that means that you're a...." her voice trailed off and her gaze fell back to my body. "...that you're a man." she breathed, looking back at my face. "Are you?" When I didn't answer, she scooted closer to me until our knees were nearly touching. "I think you're a man," she said, placing her hand tentatively on my thigh, "because boys don't have chest hair," she went on, placing her other hand on my chest and running her fingers through the sparse tuft of hair. Then she placed both of her hands on my shoulders and ran them down my arms. "And boys don't have muscles like this," she said. As she leaned in and squeezed my biceps, I could feel her breath on my face and smell the sweet fragrance of her hair. She continued massaging my arms, then ran her hands down my sides and placed them on my thighs again. She continued to study my features carefully as if to convince herself of what she was saying. "And boys have little-bitty penises...," she said, lowering her gaze to my cock which still hung heavily between my legs, "...but you have a big cock," she went on, reaching between my legs and taking my swollen member in her hands. I gasped at the feeling of her hand delicately taking hold of me, and we both looked down as it grew erect in her hand. "Little boys don't get hard-ons like this around naked women," she said, giving my cock a little squeeze. "Trace--," I gasped, placing my hand on her shoulder. The sensation of Tracey's warm hand on my cock was electrifying. My cock throbbed in her loose grip and my body tensed on the verge of orgasm. Finally, she let go. She sat down and leaned back against the wall of plush pillows. "I think that means you're horny...," she said, her tone of casual concern belied by her raspy voice. "Anyway," she went on, "you said you needed to take a closer look...." She drew her legs up and parted her legs slightly. I stared at her intensely, still reeling from the sensation of her hand on my cock. "...at my pussy," she went on, looking down at her crotch. I moved toward her, but she closed her legs and pulled her knees to her chest, clenching her wrists and peering up at me anxiously as if she was having second thoughts. I grasped her wrists gently but firmly and pulled them apart, placing her arms at her side. Then I put my hands on her knees and tried to separate them. She resisted, looking up at me again. "I need to take a look," I said hoarsely. She stopped resisting and let me pull her legs apart. We both looked down between her legs as her pussy came into view. Then she leaned back and spread her legs wide open, grasping her knees and pulling them back until her cunt was completely exposed to me. "Are you going to touch my pussy?" she said nervously. I looked into her eyes and slowly ran my hands down the insides of her thighs. "Uunnhhhhhh...," she breathed. I slid my hands all the way down her thighs to the outer folds of her pussy, then slid my thumb along her wet slit. She gasped again as my thumb broke the surface and plunged inside her. "Mmmnnn...Steve...," she moaned. "You're so wet...," I whispered. "Mmmmm...I am?" she squeaked as I ran my fingers up and down her slippery cunt. She pulled her knees back further and thrust her hips upward into my hand. I slid my thumb to the top of her cunt and focused on her swollen clit. "Oooh! Steevve!" she moaned as I imitated the circular motion I'd seen her use on her clit minutes earlier. She thrust her pussy up again and I rubbed her clit with increased speed and pressure until she was writhing beneath me. "Mmmmmm yes! Steve...don't sto...don't...sss--," she screamed as an orgasm overtook her. She let out several dry gasps, then reached down and stilled my hand. She lay motionless for a moment with her eyes closed, then looked up at me again. She rose up on her elbows and lowered her gaze to my throbbing cock, which was jutting between her legs. "Are you...," she began, slowly spreading her legs apart further. She bent her knees and lifted her feet slightly so that they were dangling in the air. Her gaze was fixed on my cock. "Are you...gonna fuck me?" she whispered. I took hold of her knees and pulled her off her elbows toward me, then leaned over and put my arms at her sides, positioning the length of my cock along her wet pussy. "Ooooh Steve...are you gonna fuck me? Huh?" she said, putting her hands on my chest and holding me off but grinding her pussy against my cock at the same time. I continued sliding my cock up and down along her pussy, descending further each time until the tip of my cock was glancing her clit; then further still until instead of sliding the length of my shaft back along her wet slit, I entered her. "Steve...," she whispered, gazing into my eyes.