11 comments/ 143938 views/ 10 favorites Plump and Plain By: tarkatony "She was training to be a masseuse — had always wanted to be a masseuse, had always wanted to work on bodies, to help restore their health. But she had to quit her training. Know why?" She shook her head, "No." "Because she couldn't find anyone to work on after class! Isn't that pathetic? I mean, there isn't a guy in this entire city who wouldn't give his left nut for her to come over and rub him down. But she couldn't find anyone. I think that's just really, really sad." She nodded her head, "It is, yes, I know the feeling." "You do?" This kind of surprised me; I didn't know this woman very well so didn't know why she'd say this. She told me. "I'm two weeks away from my 23rd birthday and I'm still a virgin. I find that really, really sad, too. Actually, it's pathetic." "And you don't want to be?" That was all I could think to say. "No, I don't and haven't for some time." "So why don't you do something about it?" "I am." "What?" I didn't understand. "I'm telling you I'm a virgin and I don't want to be." "You're telling me this because ...?" I left the sentence open, hoping she'd fill in the blank. She did. "I want to have sex." I laughed, "Is that an offer?" I didn't think it was but I also couldn't figure what else she was getting at. "Yes, it is." I still don't think I got it. I hesitated a moment before saying, "You want to have sex ... with me?" With a level gaze, she looked me in the eyes, "Yes." 'Why me?' I asked myself, then I asked her the same question. "I like you and you're here, and we're talking about it, so why not?" "Wouldn't you rather lose it to someone you really care about?" "I would, yes, but there isn't anyone and there isn't likely to be anyone anytime soon." "Why not?" "Because, as you can see, I'm not very attractive, not the kind of girl guys thinks about when they want to have sex. And I'm not aggressive, either — not a great combination if your goal is to get laid." She was sitting on a computer chair in our mutual friend's apartment; I was sitting across from her on the couch. I had met her a few times before, talked to her for a couple of minutes each time and that was the extent of our relationship: she was a friend of a friend, that was it; I couldn't even remember her name. I laughed, nervously, "Well, as a virgin, maybe you don't know that your approach isn't the normal route to sex, I mean with the line 'my goal is to get laid.'" I laughed again, "Don't get me wrong, I'm sure it'll work about 99.9% of the time." She didn't laugh, she seemed frustrated. "Ya, well, the normal routes, whatever they are, are pretty much closed to me. I'm not particularly attractive, not aggressive, not very social ...," she hesitated, "what would you suggest my preferred route should be?" She was right, she wasn't very attractive. She was plump and plain with a roundish face that exuded more intelligence than beauty and with the way she was dressed it was impossible to see anything sexy about her. She wore a pair of black slacks, a black vest over a grey-blue shirt buttoned at the neck and cuffs as if for protection. But even at that she wasn't noticeably ugly; she was just the woman you pass on the street a thousand times a day and never notice. But I was noticing her now, her eyes were boring into mine, she was waiting for an answer. I shrugged, "I don't know what your preferred route should be, I guess whatever works." "But that's my point, isn't it? Nothing has worked. That's why I'm still a virgin and that's why I've made you the offer. Betty won't be back for another 3 or 4 hours; we're here; I've explained my predicament; I've asked you to have sex with me; what do you say?" As she studied me, I thought about it — quickly, I didn't want to appear to be agonizing over a decision — that would be a little insulting; she was obviously desperate. When I spoke I was as frank as she had been, "I'll do it but only on one condition." She continued to scrutinize me, "And that is?" "That the sex will be really memorable for you." She seemed to relax now; a hint of a smile appeared, "Oh, I imagine it will." I shook my head, "No, it won't. If I do what you're asking, I'll stick it in you, thrust a few time, we'll both cum and after a few minutes we'll both feel stupid. You'll have lost your cherry, we'll both have lost a little self respect." The smile was gone; she seemed to be considering what I'd said. "So what do you suggest?" "That before we do it you get hotter than you've ever been before, maybe even hotter than you've ever imagined you could be so that when we finally do have sex we'll both feel good about it; we'll have achieved a lot more than just a broken hymen; we'll have done something you'll always remember." She smiled again, this time with enthusiasm, "OK, so how do we accomplish that?" "With words." I almost laughed when her smile turned to a frown of doubt. "I want you to sit there and I'll sit here and we'll start talking about things sexual and we'll go where it seems best to go and if it works, if we both get turned on, and I stressed BOTH here because I'm not just going to service you, this isn't going to be a pity fuck, so if it works, we're both going to want to go at it, and if we both really want it, the sex will have a good chance of being memorable. That's my condition." There was only the hint of a smile again, "Fine, accepted, but I think you'll find I'm pretty dim on the subject." I shook my head, "I'll bet you aren't. Do you have sexual thoughts?" "Of course." "Had them for awhile, for years?" "Yes." "Are they always the same?" "What do you mean, 'the same?'" "Do all your thoughts about sex have the same theme, are they always about the same person?" "No." "So you think about sex in a variety of ways?" "Yes." "How big a variety?" "I'm not sure ..." "In your head have you had sex on a boat, a plane, in a kitchen, on a beach, standing, sitting, in a shower ..." Her laugh interrupted me, "I get your point, yes, most of the above." "So, in your mind at least, you have quite a lot of sexual experience?" She smiled more brightly this time, "Put that way, yes, I'm a real aficionado." "That's why I don't think you're going to be 'dim' on the subject: you've had lots of experience, if only in your head. So do you want to get started?" She laughed, "I've already started." "Are you feeling a little hot?" "I've never talked about sex with anyone before, so it's kind of, ... a bit of ... a thrill." "Never to anyone? Not even girl talk?" "The poodles don't share their thoughts with the bulldogs." "A little harsh." "But accurate. When you're plump and plain people, even of the same gender, they just assume you're sexless. You did, didn't you?" "No, I just didn't think of you in a sexual context." "It's the same thing. If I was attractive, you would have put me in a sexual context." I thought about this for a moment, "Probably, ya, I probably would have." I wanted to get this back on track, "Describe your breasts to me." She shifted in the chair, as if preparing for a long grilling. "What do you want, the measurements?" "No, describe them as you think of them, I mean, you're dressed as if you're ashamed of them, they're covered by a vest and a shirt and I'll bet you have some kind of jog-type bra thing on that flattens them. I can't see them, can't imagine them, so describe them for me." "I like my breasts. I usually wear a sports bra, as you say, because they're more comfortable ..." "But if you flatten them aren't you missing an opportunity?" She shrugged, "I've never sexualized my breasts, they just are." "But you like them?" "I do, yes." "Describe them." She snickered uncomfortably, "Well, they're both a few pounds of fat with a nipple on them ..." "Come on. When you look in a mirror, what do you see, what do you like about them?" If she was uncomfortable with this, she wasn't showing it. "People like me don't look into mirrors but if I did, I'd see two what I consider to be medium sized breasts which give me a nice cleavage, which I like and I like my aureolas, I like the colour of them. They're large and darkish red with nipples that are, at this moment, probably pretty prominent." "Can you feel your nipples right now?" "They're tingling." "Anything else tingling?" She seemed to blush a little, "Yes." "Do you have names for them?" She smiled, "I'm waiting for a husband for that." "Do you feel them when you're masturbating?" She didn't flinch, "Sometimes, when I want to draw it out." "How about bras? Do you have a favourite bra that shows your breasts at their best?" She thought a moment, "A yellow one, kind of see through, I wear it when I want to feel sexy." "And when's that?" She laughed, "When my hormones tell me to." "Have you ever worn that bra to impress a man, to try to turn him on?" "No." "Why not?" "I guess I've never thought I could turn on a man. That has never occurred to me." "If you had that bra here and I asked you to put it on, would you?" "Of course. If I'm going to show you my breasts I'd far rather have them in a sexy, flimsy bra than the one I've got on." "How about your panties. What colour are they, what kind?" "They're coloured, I don't remember which, and cotton." "You don't know what colour they are?" "No, I didn't notice. Do you know what colour yours are?" I shook my head and changed the subject, "If we were married and I told you I wanted to take a video of you masturbating, would you let me?" "I don't know, maybe, I guess it would depend on how much I trusted you, which must be a lot, otherwise I wouldn't have married you, so, yes, probably, I would." "I'd think I'd like to see how you masturbate, if I ask you to show me later, would you?" "If I'm feeling then what I'm feeling now, yes, I probably would. Would you masturbate for me?" "Would that make this coming-out party of yours more memorable?" "It would, yes." "Then I will, but we're not there yet, are we." "We're close." "You're getting wet?" "Yes." "Do you shave your pubic hair?" "No, I have no need to, I don't do bathing suits." "How about if your boyfriend asked you to." "I would, yes. Is that important to you?" "I like women the way they like themselves." "Do you really mean that?" "You're a lot more attractive now then you were a few minutes ago." "You're probably hornier." "It isn't that, it's because you're a little turned on now and that's making you appear a lot sexier. I think when women are turned on they like themselves more and when they like themselves more, they look a lot sexier. That's what I meant when I said I like the way women look when they like themselves; I think they're a lot sexier then, a lot more confident — they just seem to be a lot more interesting." "So I'm more interesting to you now then I was?" "Ya, but not as interesting as you're going to be. Will you take off your vest and shirt?" She continued to look me in the eyes, "Will you take off your clothes, too?" "I will but I'd rather wait a bit. I'd like to see you out there, all alone. I think you'll remember that." She laughed nervously, beginning to undo her vest, "I think I'll remember this, too." I watched her fumble with her buttons, "Is this the first time you've ever taken your clothes off for a guy?" "Yes," she had her vest off and was undoing the buttons on her shirt. "Tell me how you're feeling?" "Nervous, I don't have a very good body and there's way too much light in here — I'm feeling really, really vulnerable ..." "Is it a turn on, too." "Maybe, but I'm way too nervous to notice." When she had all the buttons undone she hesitated, "Can I just wait a bit?" "Wait in your bra." "No, once I get my shirt off I'll want that off as soon as possible; it's really ugly, my breasts are better." "OK, I don't want you doing anything you don't want to do." She responded quickly, as if to reassure me, "I want to do this ... but maybe not quite so fast." "Have you ever fantasized about sucking a man's cock?" "No." She sat back in the chair looking straight into my eyes again. "When we have sex, if I asked you to, would you?" She shrugged somewhat helplessly, "If you wanted me to." "But you wouldn't necessarily want to?" "No." "Does it seem revolting to you?" She shook her head, "No, it's just that I don't feel the need to want to. Maybe if I did it, I'd love it, I guess that's what sex is all about, finding out what you like and what your partner likes. I think that's one of the big reasons why I want to lose my virginity; because I want to start learning about something that can be so important to my development." "Do you think sex is important to development?" "I do, yes, if not to development, I think sex is important for expression, at least I hope it is." "Why?" "I feel that sex is bottled up inside me like a great mystery. I've thought a lot about it and I've wondered about the mystery, how will it express itself?" "How do you think sex will express itself?" "I don't really know." "Well, do you think you'll be into it, be dominant, be assertive or do you think you'll lie there and just take it?" She laughed, "That's one of the mysteries, isn't it? I guess I'll find out." "What do you hope for?" She shrugged, "I'd like to think of sex as a kind of creative expression. I hope it is, I hope that my approach to sex will be interesting, both to me and to my partner." "Would you like me to go down on you?" She held her steady gaze, "I wouldn't expect you to." "But would you like me to?" "I'd like to know what that feels like," she laughed a little nervously, "I guess ... like you'd like to know what it'd be like for me to suck you." "When we have sex, I will." "Then I'll suck you." Her words couldn't have been more matter-of-fact. "Have you ever had any kind of sex with a woman?" "No. Never." "Ever wanted to?" "I was in a room one time when two girls were having sex. If they had asked me to join in, I would have — I was just that horny. But they didn't." "If we were married, and I had one fetish, what would you like it to be?" "I don't know much about fetishes ..." "But you have an imagination. What fetish would you like me to have?" She thought for almost a minute and while she did I thought about the subject, too. "Fantasies. I have a good imagination. I think I'd like to play sexual fantasies with my husband." "Roll playing?" "Ya, that sort of thing, maybe something like: you sit in that couch over there, and I'll sit in this chair here and we'll imagine we just met and I'll tell you I'm a virgin and you ..." I laughed, she seemed to be getting a little more confident. "Do you think of this as a kind of roll playing game, I mean what we're doing?" "It sure seems like a fantasy; to me it's unbelievable; it's almost surreal, but I'm not playing a roll here, I'm trying to be honest with you, I assume that's what you want." "It's not what I want. The objective here is to get you unbelievably hot, whatever it takes. So lie if you want to." She laughed, "Honesty is working just fine for me right now." "You're getting hot." "Very." "So you like talking about sex?" "It seems I do, yes." "Have you ever thought about when you lose your virginity? About how you'd like it to happen?" "Sure." "And?" "And, nothing. There was never a single scenario and never a face. If I'm actually going to lose my virginity here this afternoon this will be great." I laughed, "And the face?" She laughed, too. "It's a handsome face, a kind face." "When you think about sex, is there one predominant scenario or theme?" She thought just for a moment, "Probably being dominated." This surprised me, "You don't seem the type." She shrugged, "I probably want a man to dramatically take me away from myself ..." "Like the homo erectus dragging the woman out of the cave by the hair?" She laughed, "Sure, but without the club." "Rough?" "No, but insistent, like you're demanding something from me, like I perform, you challenge me. Like I said, I think I think about sex as an expression. I think I'll need an accomplished leading man; I'll need to be challenged." "When we get naked, what part of your body do you first want me to feel?" She laughed, "The way I'm feeling now, when that happens I don't think it will matter." "You're there?" "I'm fighting it off." I thought I'd give her a rest. I stood up, "Can I get you something to drink?" She looked up at me, "Water, I'm a bit dry." Then she laughed and looked away, "We'll, no, that's not true." I got her a glass of water and myself a beer and sat back down again. "Will you take your shirt off?" She did and quickly followed it with her bra. When she sat back in the chair her arms were across her chest in modesty. "A little uncomfortable?" She smiled, "A little." "Then put your shirt back on." She thought for a moment, "This is a bit too clinical for me. I want you to want to see them; I want you to ask to see them; I don't just want to strip and flop; I'd like you to pretend you care." I stood up, reached under the waistband of my pants, then sat down, holding up my glistening finger. "This is called pre-cum, the name kind of explains what it is. I don't need to pretend to care, I'm really enjoying this; I'm really enjoying being here with you, doing this, so yes, I care, I'd like you to show me your breasts." "Thank you," she whispered, as she removed her arms from her chest. She was right, she had magnificently coloured aureolas and terrifically stiff nipples but she was clearly plumper than I like. "You have beautiful breasts, it's a pity society makes you hid them." "Silly, isn't it, one day it won't matter but ...," she shrugged. "Why are you over-weight?" She didn't look at me, "It's a food-exercise thing, or so I've heard." "And a self-image thing?" She nodded her head as she looked at the floor, "Getting to be." "If I was a smoker and I asked you to marry me, would you?" "I know where you're going with this." She looked up at me, "Would I lose weight for you?" I shrugged to show her she was right. "It would be easy for me to say yes I would but it would be just as easy for me to say something like, if you loved me you would ..." "... love me the way I am." Now she shrugged and I changed the subject. "How do you feel about anal sex?" "I don't, I've never thought about it," and she laughed, "and I hope I never have to." "Against it?" "Fear of the unknown." "How about a manage a trois?" She shrugged, "Unknown, also, but I'm probably less fearful of that." "Do you think when you're married you'll do much sexual experimenting?" "I hope so, it's the expression thing: I'd like to think I'll be creative, but I'd have my limits ..." "Do you know what they are?" "No, I have no idea. The anal thing? I'd probably try it and I'd try most anything else, but I'd be cautious and I don't think I'd do things just to please my partner, I'd have to get pleasure out of them, too." "So if I asked you to show your breasts to my best friend?" "I can't see me marrying someone who would ask me to do that." "Could you imagine sitting across from a relative stranger, talking to him with your shirt off?" She laughed, "Point taken." I got up and started taking off my clothes. "Do you want me to take mine off, too." "No, I don't think seeing me is going to get you anywhere near as hot as we want you so just hang on a while," I finished and sat down, not trying to hide my hard on. Plump and Plain "You have a really handsome body," she said, looking not at it but into my eyes. "Thanks," I said, and I slumped back in the couch and took my prick in my hand. "The fantasy as fetish. Let's just explore that a little. Give me a fantasy, let me try to imagine the kind of thing you're talking about, I've never thought about fantasies." She shifted in her chair, she had a different look on her face now, she was now clearly getting aroused, as was I. "You're on a bus. It's crowded. You see me. You move up against me. You feel me. I let you — that sort of thing, act it out." "Where do I feel you?" "Maybe you rub your arm against my breasts, maybe the back of your hand touches my sex." "Have you thought of this scenario before?" "Yes." "And what do you do?" "It depends." "On what?" "On my mood. Sometimes, when I'm in a hurry, I subtly rub back and the whole thing quickly escalates. Other times, when I have the time to drag it out, I'm more passive and he's more insistent — it takes a lot longer." "But you wind up in the same place. His bed." She smiled, "Mine, usually, that way I don't have to waste a lot of time imagining details of the setting ..." "You can just spend your energies on getting it on ..." "Yes." I had been very slowly stroking my cock, trying to tease her a little but at the same time, for my own sake, making sure I didn't go too far, which would have been really easy to do. "Is this working for you?" She hadn't been watching my hand, she had kept her eyes on mine, but now she took a peek, "You have no idea." "Is this the first one you've seen?" She nodded. I took my hand off it. "What do you think?" "It isn't as menacing as I thought ..." "Not as big ...," I laughed, "No, no" she almost over-reacted in protest, "I didn't mean that, I meant it in the sense that it's supposed to fit into me and when I first saw it, that's what I imagined and it didn't seem any where near as ah, threatening as I thought it would." "Evolution has pretty much perfected the principal." She laughed, "I think of it more as an Intelligent Design." I laughed, too. She was impressing me. This couldn't have been easy for her but she was playing her roll impressively. "Will you take off your pants? Leave your panties on." She quickly got up and took them off. "Rose." "What?" "Your panties are rose." "And the rose has been watered," she laughed, sitting down, carefully placing her legs together. "It's working, isn't it? If we had done it your way, it'd be over now and we'd be feeling stupid." "I don't know what I'd be feeling, but I bet I wouldn't be feeling like this." "And 'this' is what? Before you answer can you just sort of do what I'm doing?" She sat back in her chair, slowly, cautiously opened her legs and began to move her fingers lightly over the dark spot on her panties. "I'm on fire. If Betty walked into this room right now, I'm not sure I could stop doing what I'm doing." I smiled, "Another fantasy." She smiled through hooded eyes, "Do you have a fetish? I mean, besides coaxing strangers into undressing in front of you and masturbating." "I think I do, I think I have two. One is women's underwear, I find it unbelievably sexy," I nodded towards hers, "not the cotton stuff, the really delicate, sexy fabrics. To me, they're a giant turn-on. And the other is something that I'm just now discovering: helping a woman to really get into her sexuality, I mean, I'm finding this unbelievable. You described yourself as plump and plain awhile ago but you're anything but that right now. I mean, look at you? Your nipples are as stiff as pencils, you panties are wet with desire, your legs are wide open to me and you have a kind of joy on your face right now — it's beautiful, the whole package is unbelievably beautiful ...," I jumped to my feet. "I've got to take a break or I'll explode. Five minutes. OK?" "Do you want me to put my clothes on?" "Hell, no! We'll just pick up where we left off, OK?" I went to the bathroom and took some time to coax my prick down so I could take a leak. Then I washed cold water over my face to help me gain a little control over my emotions. I had expected this to be a huge turn-on for her, but because I hadn't found her attractive, not for me. But it wasn't working out that way. When I took my place on the couch again, I took a long slug of the beer I had brought from the fridge and was glad to see that I wasn't totally stiff. But I got that way the moment she walked into the room. "I rooted through Betty's drawer. We're about the same size; though she's a lot heavier on the top." She hesitated, searching my face, "I know this stuff looks better on ..." "You look beautiful," I said. She had on the very kind of underwear I had described to her, flimsy, delicate, tantalizing and I immediately reached for my now-stiff pecker, careful not to squeeze it too tight. When she sat opposite me she opened her legs and began again to caress herself. For the very first time she looked unbelievably sexy to me. And self-conscious, too. She smiled at me, "On our break I thought about it: it wasn't fair of me to ask you to do this, was it?" "This was my idea ..." "The sex, I mean, it wasn't fair for me to put you on the spot like that. You were right, I was asking you to service me, to give me a pity fuck, as you said." "You were desperate, I get that." Then I laughed, "and look on the bright side, you said that one of your problems has been that you aren't aggressive enough. You can't say that anymore." She laughed, her finger lightly tracing a circle around the growing wet spot on her panties. I brought my eyes to hers, "Don't you think that's important?" "What?" She had been watching me pump myself. "That it was you who initiated this, not me. It was you who asked me for sex, not the classic boy asking the girl. When you think back about this, don't you think that'll be important to you, that you started this. I think you'll find that'll be a big turn-on, that you did the propositioning ..." "Or maybe I'll find it pathetic ... that I had to." "Do you feel pathetic?" "No." "You shouldn't. What were you thinking on the break?" "That I'm really lucky, really excited. I'm going to have sex, I'm going to have it with a really nice guy and that I'm ready to explode." "Ya, me, too, great isn't it?" "But how long do you expect me to last?" "Ready?" "I'm way beyond ready." She got to her feet and reached out to help me up, but I resisted. "We're not quite there yet. Another few minutes." There may have been anger in the disappointment that flashed through her face, but she sat down, leaned back, slowly opened her legs and continued to move her fingers over Betty's panties. "Can you imagine sucking this now?" I held it out. She looked at it, concentrated on it. "Yes. I would kiss it first ... on the top and then along its length. But then I would suck it," she smiled, looking up at me, "I have no doubt of that." "And how does that make you feel? That discovery? You said you had never thought of it before." I could see that her fingers crept inside Betty's panties, which were just a little big on her. "A friend of mine told me awhile ago that, and this is in part why I was so bold before, that she told a guy she knew and liked but didn't have a relationship with, that she wanted a guy to take her home on a Friday night and not give her up until Sunday night. That they would, as she said, 'fuck and suck and lick and kiss' until they needed to stop, needed to eat and sleep. When she told me about it, I couldn't imagine me ever saying anything like that, ever doing anything like that. I can now. I can easily imagine that now." "So if I said, I want to lock the door and not let you out for two days, you'd say...?" She laughed and brought her fingers back to her panties, "Lock away." "Did they? She didn't understand me, "Did they?" "Did your friend get her weekend?" She nodded, "She did." "And did she tell you about it?" She shrugged, "Sort of." "Sort of?" "I cut her off. It embarrassed me — at the time, but I've thought about it ever since. A lot," she laughed, "an awful lot. I wish I'd let her continue." "Did that scenario work its way into your masturbations?" She nodded. "Were you ever there with them?" Her coy smile made me laugh, "Wouldn't you like to know." That did it. She had her over-sized bra off before we got to the bedroom and her underwear joined mine on the floor and it surprised me, I didn't think this would be a part of it, and it sure as hell surprised her, too because when we fell onto the bed, I took her in my arms and started kissing her, passionately and she went frantic on me and she came virtually immediately, right then and there, in a loud almost agonizing moan that I could taste in her spit and feel on my leg. And then her rigidity relaxed and she melted onto to me, weightless and soft. "Oh, fuck, that was amazing." I caressed her hair, "Ya, but it doesn't count." She took a deep breath and put her arms around me and squeezed as hard as she could. I waited for her to relax again and when she did I turned sideways and dumped her off me, gently pushed her onto her back and I got between her legs. "Is it too soon?" "No, God, no, please." "You do it." "What?" "You put me in." I leaned forward and bunched the two pillows under her head so she could more easily watch. She was looking at me and I swear to God the lust that had been in her eyes just a minutes before had now changed to love, she had a look of adoration, then she looked down and took me lightly with both hands and as I shuffled forward, she guided me to her opening. That's when I knew this had all been a terrible mistake, my timing had been awful. The moment I touched her warm, wet opening, moments after her fingers touched my stiff, throbbing cock, I unloaded on her, not IN her, ON here, I just pumped a couple of weeks of sperm on her hairy covering and then I felt her push me over and as I lay on my back she pumped me as waves and waves of ecstasy washed over me and as I nestled further into the bed she had her fingers lightly on my balls and she was snuggling into me and I knew I would remember this moment for the rest of my life. It took me awhile to recover, a few minutes and when I did, I was surprised I wasn't embarrassed, in fact I was glad it had happened, "As I was saying, I wanted this to be a great memory ... for me," and I laughed and so did she. Then she rose up on an arm and was looking down on me, smiling that new loving smile of hers, "I had no idea that losing my virginity would be this difficult." "Well," I said, with a smile, "I don't think it's good idea to rush into these things." "Apparently," she smiled back, "And now I don't either." I gently pushed her onto her back and shifted down and got comfortable. "Would you feed it to me?" She shifted, put an arm above my head so she could caress my hair and she fed her right breast to me and when I touched her stiff nipple with my lips she moaned in pleasure and she kept on moaning, lightly, expressively but only for a couple of minutes because that's when she slid down and took me in her mouth and when she did I looked up and saw Betty standing in the doorway. She was smiling; she put her finger to her lips to shush me and then, as she leaned against the doorway, she moved her fingers to the crotch of her jeans and I could see her pinching herself as her friend's head bobbed over me. It was all too much. I just let go and as my fluids shot into her, she moan loudly — and I couldn't take my eyes off Betty. For some reason the look on her face and her hand on her crotch absolutely enraptured me and the feeling didn't go away with my release: it shocked me, the realization; it positively shocked me: I wanted her, I wanted her more than I've ever wanted a woman and I didn't know why. But I couldn't see Betty now. The girl had left my cock and was leaning over me, that loving smile on her face, her breasts pointing at my still-stiff prick like witching sticks — that's when Betty applauded and with the noise she jerked around and Betty came rushing forward, took her head in her hands and kissed her on the forehead. "Magnifico!" she said, as her friend sat back, startled, then she sank into the bed lying beside me as if for support. "It never occurred to me that I couldn't leave you two together." Clearly, there was no edge to her voice, just fun. "It's my coming out party," she clasped her hands behind her head, her elbow was resting above me so that her armpit, hairy and a little ripe, was just inches from my face. She didn't show a hint of embarrassment or even self-consciousness, which really surprised me, and, actually, turned me on a little, as my well-serviced dink was now evidencing. "Coming out party?" Betty had one knee on the bed. She nudged me on the head with her elbow, "Tell her." "The whole thing?" Betty was sitting on the edge of the bed now. She slapped at my foot, "Yes, the whole thing." She laughed, "Sure." So I did, leaving out nothing. I had known Betty for years, she was a friend of my older sister who had moved to the city after I did and she asked me over for dinner every once in awhile. We were friends, that's all, I'd never thought of her in any other way — until three minutes ago. Now, as I told her the story, I was looking at her in a whole different way, surprised that I had never seen her lustful sexuality before. She was heavy with curves, soft rolling curves that seemed now to be calling out for love; I could imagine myself lost in them; my face pressed between her soft round breasts; my fingers in her warm wet snatch. Why? It was her look: she now seemed to be exuded sex; everything about her seemed to be dripping with it. My prick was rock hard again and she was looking at it, then she looked at her friend, "So has losing it been ... memorable?" We both laughed, but I spoke, "We haven't quite got there yet." Betty seemed incredulous, "You mean this was supposed to be all about her, and you got her to blow you?" She pulled her sweater over her head, "You need some help, girl." She quickly sat up. "What are you doing?" Betty was unfastening her bra, "What do you mean, 'what am I doing?' You're having a coming out party, you want to make it memorable and you're not asking me? Get serious." When she stood up to take down her pants she saw the panties on the floor. She bent down, picked them up, dangling them on her middle finger, "How long have you two been at this?" "I borrowed them, I hope you don't mind." Betty was feeling the crotch with exaggerated drama, "Been at it awhile," she said, as she dropped them to the floor and stripped her pants and panties in a single motion and then she crawled on the bed. That's when it got awkward because she didn't know where to go; she just sort of hung there on all fours, her breasts hanging like udders. Anger flashed through her eyes, "Well?" I don't know why but that struck me as funny, and she thought it was funny, too because we both laughed, then I sorted of squeezed into her to make room for Betty beside me. But Betty was having none of that. "I thought it was Nancy's coming out party, not your's. 'Nancy!' That was her name. "It is." "Then isn't SHE supposed to be the centre of attention," Betty was looking at me but she was speaking to Nancy and Nancy wasn't moving, but I was, this was taking on a whole new theme and the prospects of a really 'memorable' outting was growing with every moment. When I shifted over to the edge of the bed, I pulled Nancy with me, and Betty lay down next to her, on her side, looking down on her. "Now, as I remember it, to lose your virginity that," she pointed to my pole, "has to go in there," she pointed to Nancy's pussy. I didn't know if I had been summoned and nor did Nancy, who said, "Is it customary to lose it with an audience?" "I'm no spectator," Betty said, as she put her fingers on Nancy's breast, "I'm a participant." But with her touch Nancy kind of freaked; she slapped at Betty's fingers, "I'm not a lesbian!" I watched with fascination as Betty put her fingers back on Nancy's stiff nipple, "Well nor am I but that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun. Jeez, I thought this was supposed to be memorable." "Ya," I turned on my side to bracket Nancy, "this is supposed to be memorable," I repeated her words with all the enthusiasm I was feeling. "For whom?" Nancy was looking up at me, with a kind of wry smile that excited me because I was pretty sure it was going to happen and then, when Betty's lips found Nancy's nipple and she winced, but only for a second, I knew it was going to happen. I kissed her lightly on the lips, "Have you ever dreamed about anything like this?" She smiled, "Have you?" Then she turned her head to watch Betty's fingers slowly travel down her belly. I waited for Nancy to stop her but she didn't, not when Betty's fingers went south of her navel and not when her fingers entered her pubic patch — but she did gasp and I think I did too. But she didn't open her legs, not until Betty left her tit and looked up at her and when she did, it was clear to both of us that Betty was going to be an insistent partner — and she was going to be our guide. In response to Betty's demanding eyes I watched Nancy's legs part, slowly at first but as Betty's fingers disappeared into her crotch, she opened wider and as she did she slid down a little as if helping to impale herself on her friend's fingers. It was when Nancy started to shimmer at Betty's fingers, that's what did it. Leaving her fingers in her pussy, Betty rose up and looked down at Nancy whose eyes were closed the better to concentrate on her bliss. "Why you horny little tart." A smile cracked Nancy's lips but she didn't open her eyes, "Sticks and stones," she said, as she rocked her hips sending Betty's fingers deeper into her pussy. I wanted to suck something, anything but mostly I wanted my head between Betty's large, soft thighs, I wanted to be sucking her pussy — but I knew better, I knew this was about Nancy and I knew that anything I could get from Betty would be a side dish, at least until we had dispensed with Nancy's cherry, so I moved down and Betty did too, by tracing her lips along Nancy's body and when I reached Nancy's lips, she was sucking her belly, just above her pubic hair and I could feel Nancy's moans in my mouth. "It's time, hot shot." It took me a moment to realize that Betty was talking and she was talking to me. But Nancy was objecting, "No, not yet, please," and she pushed gently at Betty's head and that's all the encouragement she needed. I rolled off Nancy and sat up, placing her head in my laps and we both watched Betty get off the bed and kneel on the floor, her eyes transfixed by Nancy's pussy. What happened next was like a slow motion video that I hoped would remain in my memory to replay on demand. The lust on Betty's face was lewd, deforming, she seemed almost to be panting. She was staring at Nancy's pussy as if she had never seen one before, then she put her hands on Nancy's hips and with her thumbs spread her lips slowly opening her, a hint of pink becoming a cleft, then a gully. "Betty?" Nancy's voice was almost a whisper. But Betty didn't answer. She bend down and carefully placed her lips into the centre of the opening and I could hear her kiss, a kind of smooch, then she lost it and pushed her faced deep into her and Nancy was pulling at her hair, bucking at her face so hard that Betty's head seemed almost to be bouncing and it must have bothered her because she brought her arms over Nancy's legs, gripped them and as she pulled her down towards the end of the bed Nancy's head dropped off my lap, then Betty seemed to throw Nancy's legs over her shoulders and with Nancy's ass off the bed she clamped her pussy tight to her face and Nancy's squeal lasted a full minute before she went limp — and I began to breath again. Plump and Plain "C'mere." Betty was pushing Nancy's ass back onto the bed, but she wasn't finished with her pussy. Her lips were hovering over it when she repeated, "C'mere." I don't know what I expected, maybe that Nancy would swing her leg over Betty's shoulder again and hoist her sex to Betty's face. But this isn't what Betty had in mind. She looked up at me with urgent impatience, "C'mere." And as soon as I got to my feet it was clear what she meant. She was kneeling on the floor, with her knees wide apart and she was kissing at Nancy's wet snatch as I got on my knees behind her and when I entered her it was like sticking my prick in the folds of a hot, wet sponge, soaking with a thick cream. "I thought he was supposed to be mine." There was a smile, almost a smirk on Nancy's face, certainly no malevolence. Betty lifted her face from Nancy's twat, "You get him in a minute." Then she put her lips back, but only for a second. "Ask me to suck you, Nans," she raised her eyes to her friend's, seeking approval. "You've already done that." "Please." I couldn't see her face, of course, but she sounded almost desperate. "Try some place new." Betty hesitated, I imagined a smile on her face, "Do you want me to?" When Nancy smiled, Betty sat up and when her back hit my chest I fell out of her. She repeated herself, but this time she was more insistent, "Do you want me to? Tell me." Somehow, Nancy seemed entirely composed, entirely rational. "Of course I want you to. I want whatever you'll do to me. I want it all. When am I ever going to get a chance like this again?" "Then turn over." She did, slowly, as if enjoying herself, as if she wanted to remember what she was doing and as she did, I took Betty's huge soft breast in one hand and with the other I rubbed my cock against her pussy, all the time watching Nancy slowly turn on the bed, rising up to her knees and then sliding her knees open on the blanket. It was the sight of her ass, wide and white and waiting that made me do it. I poked my prick at Betty's bud and when I did she jumped and then, in a moment, half turned, "There are condoms and jelly in my night table." I was there and back in a flash, taking my place on my knees behind Betty where I got busy putting it on, careful not to be too fast, the gun was definitely cocked. Once done, I squirted a great dollop of jelly onto my fingers and I waited. When I had reentered the room, Betty was massaging Nancy's cheeks, spreading them while she inspected her hole. Betty seemed to be transfixed with it, as she was with her pussy; she was staring at it, slowly, almost imperceptibly moving to it. That's why I waited, I wanted her to get there before I began — and I wanted to watch: it was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen. And then she seemed to stop, as if she'd changed her mind. And Nancy thought so too, "Do you want me to turn around?" "No." Betty's word sounded abrupt and cold so I used the moment to soften her up. I placed my jelly-soaked fingers against her asshole and I rubbed, gently but with pressure and she slump forward and pressed her face against Nancy's cheek, "Oh, God," she said, as I placed my prick against her asshole, waiting for her to apply the pressure. And it wasn't long in coming: she pushed me into her the moment she pushed her face between Nancy's cheeks and we all began to ride in a slow rhythmic dance, a noisy dance because their moans were loud and erotic, too erotic; I couldn't last, not for very long. It was the moans. When I shot my load she must have felt the spasms because her moans were louder and she fucked at me harder and her head was bobbing more and Nancy seemed almost to be shouting and then we all seemed to collapse, me onto Betty and Betty onto Nancy and Nancy onto the bed and we were still. "Oh, Jeez, Nans, you've got to try that." Betty's words were barely audible, she was squeezing her friend's ass to her face. "Who knew," Nancy said, with a chuckle then she slowly pulled herself away from Betty and sat up on the side of the bed from where she looked down at me; I was still resting on Betty's back, "For a virgin, I'm doing alright." I laughed, pushed off Betty and sat back on my heels and when I did Nancy saw the condom on my still semi-erect dick. "Anal?" She seemed either confused or surprised, it was hard to tell. "What?" "Did you have anal sex just now?" It didn't seem like answering her would be a good idea, so I waited for Betty to respond. She was still lying on the bed as if sleeping. She rolled over and looked up at her friend, "God, Nans, you gotta try it." "Go wash your face," she said to Betty, "and gargle," she chuckled and she pulled at her friend's arm to show her she was serious. When Betty did as she was told, I pulled off the condom and placed it on the panties Nancy had been wearing. "Is this what is commonly referred to as an orgy?" She was looking down at me, a little too sternly. "Closest I've ever come to it." "I didn't know you and Bets had something going." "We don't." "No?" "Nope." She smiled, her nice smile, "Then why were you looking at her like you were?" I laughed, stood up and sat beside her, "I think it was her lust, she seemed to be dripping with it. She really turned me on." "Like you turned me on?" "Did I?" She fell back on the bed, pulled her legs around me and lay in the middle fluffing a pillow under her head. "Will you fuck me now?" "Make love to you?" "Just fuck me." She opened her legs and pulled at my arm, "A nice slow fuck ... then we can continue the orgy." But when I got between her legs, I tried to make love to her; I liked her; I wanted her to like me — and I wanted her first fuck to have some meaning, so when I put my erect penis at her opening, I gobbled her up in my arms and waited for her to take the plunge and when she did, slowly, hesitantly, I squeezed her to me and when I felt her break through her barrier I started to rock, as lovingly as I could and she rocked too and relaxed in my arms and she kissed me on the cheek, "Thank you." "You feel wonderful," I said, kissing her lightly on the left eye. "You couldn't wait for me!" Betty sat down beside us and began caressing Nancy's hair. Nancy didn't miss a beat; she continued her slow fuck, her fingers now digging into my back, "I want the rest of it, too. I have to leave tomorrow."