0 comments/ 160379 views/ 7 favorites Tim's First Time By: Evil Princess He sat at his laptop at the pep rally of their average size school. His gaze fixed on the only girl that made him truly happy. Kristin was the head cheerleader of the varsity squad. Tim knew deep down that it was almost impossible to imagine a girl like Kristin ever wanting him like he wanted her. His eyes started to travel up Kristin's long tan athletic legs, up to her thighs and finally her small cute ass, he swallowed hard and tried not to focus on the bulge growing in his pants. He watched her cheer and smiled, once again turning his focus to his homework. The bell sounded and the noise died down, he figured that the pep rally was over. He gathered up his laptop and papers and walked down the long row of metal uncomfortable bleachers. Kristin was there at the bottom and smiled sweetly at him, he felt his cheeks burn and he quickly waved and continued walking. Kristin was different, she was nice to everyone and she always wanted to help anyone with his or her problems. Tim admired that about her, most of the jocks he knew were assholes. Speaking of assholes the captain of the football team walked up behind him and placed his foot in between Tim's feet causing him to trip. Tim fell hard, and almost broke his laptop he looked up at the jock now laughing hysterically and his eyes burned with tears. But he wouldn't give in; he wasn't going to give that guy the satisfaction he mumbled to himself, "Stupid muscle head, why don't you get a life." He tried to compose himself and he heard that sweet familiar voice. "Tim are you ok? Jeff didn't hurt you did he? How's your laptop did you break it?" It was none other than the beautiful Kristin. He whispered yeah I'm fine Kristin thanks for asking." She helped him get to his feet and mentioned that it was getting late, and she didn't have anyone to walk home with. This was his chance and being the gentleman he was he offered to walk her home since they lived two houses from each other. They walked out into the crisp fall air, and Tim offered Kristin his jacket since she had forgotten hers, she accepted and blushed a bit. They were talking about school and grades when all of a sudden Tim was pushed to the ground. He was caught off guard and before he could react the football team was holding Kristin back and beating him up. Kristin was crying and pleading with Jeff to stop hurting Tim, but the cries were left unanswered. Tim was never much of a fighter; in fact he was a bit of weakling. After about 10 minutes they left him alone and all Jeff said was, "Next time pussy you better make sure no one can hear you talk shit". They let Kristin go and she rushed to his aid and helped him up. Tim couldn't hold back the tears this time, he was in a lot of pain, and his lip was bleeding. He hated those guys but there was nothing he could do to protect himself against a group of people. He looked at Kristin's face and he saw that she was shaking with fear and concern; he wiped her tears and gave her a hug. He apologized and she offered to clean him up at her house, and he accepted. They walked up to the doorstep and Kristin unlocked the door and led Tim to the upstairs bathroom. And cleaned and dressed his wounds. After that she led him into her bedroom, and sat him on the bed they talked for a while and decided to order a cheese pizza. They ate the pizza and decided to watch some TV. It was about quarter to 10 and Kristin had fallen asleep on Tim's chest, he kissed her forehead, and scooped her up and carried her into her bed. He was about to leave when Kristin woke up teary eyed and begged him not to leave. She didn't like being alone in that big old house, in fact she was scared to be anywhere by herself. So Tim decided to call his house and ask his parents if he could spend the night, they figured since it was a Friday night it would be ok. They were actually pretty happy that he finally made a friend; they didn't even ask him who it was that invited him over. When Tim told Kristin about his parent's approval she was elated and she giggled, he never thought that she would be so happy to have him spend the night. So he decided to ask her. "Kristin I was wondering why your always so nice to me, your not like everyone else in our school" "Well Tim I have always had a crush on you, and your such a sweet guy, I guess I was the only one who could see past that." Tim blushed and managed to squeak out, "y-yo-you like me, like me?" Kristin looked down and said yea I do. Tim started to rejoice and was very excited at this news, "Kristin I have had the biggest crush on you since kindergarten!!!" They hugged each other and shared their first real kiss together; they sat back and asked each other what they were going to do now. They decided they would start to date each other, Kristin no longer cared about her social status she wanted to be happy, and Tim made her happy. Tim and Kristin started to kiss once again this time there was some: exploring: on Tim's part, he started to massage Kristin's 38B breasts. He could feel her nipples getting hard. And it made his 8-inch cock throb with anticipation. He sucked on her neck and started going up her shirt. Kristin moaned softly and put her hand on the inside of Tim's thigh and she started moving toward his now hard throbbing cock. He sighed pleasurably and took off her shirt. Her breasts were perfect, and that white lace bra was driving him wild. He was practicing how to take a bra off with one hand, and now was his big chance. He prayed to God he wouldn't mess up; he could not be embarrassed in this crucial moment. His nervous hand slipped behind her back and started to fidget with the clasps; one, two, three. It was a success! All that practice had paid off. He took off her bra and lay there memorized by her beautiful tan breasts. Kristin could sense his nervousness and she strattled him and she started to kiss his neck. She pulled off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants. She moved down and took off his pants and boxers and started to lick the head of his cock. He grabbed the sheets and squeezed them tightly she put this throbbing cock into her mouth and began to suck, swirling her tongue around every part of his sensitive skin this drove Tim crazy he moaned louder and louder. Kristin began to hum while sucking on his cock, by this Tim almost blew his load into her waiting throat, he wanted to make love to her he didn't want it to go this way his brain was screaming, "Don't you cum in this girls mouth don't you dare!" He let out a breathless "Stop Kristin, stop I want to make love to you." She stopped and lay down on the bed and took off her remaining clothes. She looked him in his eyes and lipped the words "I love you". This made Tim's heart melt, all he ever wanted was to be loved by someone. And he finally found that love in Kristin. He climbed on top of her and kissed her passionately on the lips as he lowered his thick eight-inch cock into her wet awaiting pussy. He went into her slow and deep holding her close to his body. His heart was pounding and he was nervous he was going to do the wrong thing, but at the moment that he looked into her blue eyes all those fears faded away he started to thrust a bit faster sucking on her sandy tan skin. She moaned pleasurably as his cock hit her g-spot over and over again she wanted to cum badly but she didn't want to have Tim think that she was a fast fuck she wanted to make this moment last forever. She whispered into his ear that she was getting close and that she couldn't hold it back much longer. He felt the same and he whispered back, " Kristin I want us to cum together, I'm close too just let it happen." And there was a still moment where he looked into her eyes and into her soul and said ever so softly, "I love you Kristin". With that said he began to thrust her faster and a bit harder giving her all he had. Her eyes rolled back and her body got stiffer, her pussy tightened and hot sticky liquid flowed onto Tim's cock, this made him have an instant orgasm. He pumped faster and harder exploding streams of warm salty cum into her pussy. He pulled out his now softening cock, and looked at her glazed pussy, he moved down to her cleanly shaved pussy and started to lap up their combined juices. She tasted amazing and he couldn't wait to feel her cum on his tongue. He sucked her swollen clit while sliding two fingers into her wet dripping pussy. She ran her fingers through his hair and moaned and screamed his name. He moved down and slides his wide tongue into her pussy he sucked and flicked his tongue everywhere inside her pussy. He felt her g-spot, he rubbed his tongue roughly over the ridges of the inside of her pussy, and this drove her wild. Her hands grabbed onto the white painted metal of her bed and held on until her knuckles turned white. His tongue went faster and faster, she was fucking her hips hard against his tongue this drove him to go harder on her g-spot. \ He grabbed her tits and began to squeeze and roll her nipples between his wet sticky fingers as she bucked up and came hard on his tongue. Her pussy pumped out hot streams of sweet sticky cum and he drank her up as fast as she was pumping it out. He licked up her pussy and kissed her smooth muff, up her stomach, to each of her breasts, her neck and finally up to her mouth and once at her mouth he slid his tongue into hers and their tongue became tangled with one another and was the most passionate kiss the two young lovers had ever shared. Tim's First Time The story of Tim's first time is my first story. Many thanks to lindseymarsh who edited and polished this story. * It was just after eight o'clock on a warm, Sunday morning in early June and Tim and Jennie were spending the weekend at Jennie's mother's house. They usually didn't stay overnight, but the previous evening all the family had gone to the annual ball at the local Golf Club and they had chosen to stay. Jennie had arisen first, leaving Tim asleep, his body still trying to assimilate the six or seven pints of beer he'd consumed the previous evening. After going to the bathroom, she had gone into her mother's room to say good morning. Her step-father was already up and pottering around in the kitchen with her half-brother. "Why is Gerald up so early?" she asked her mother. "Why do you think? Richard and he are going to play golf. Sometimes I think he prefers golf to me." It was a refrain Jennie had heard before and had dismissed, but this time it was said with some degree of venom. "Mum; boys will be boys. I'm sure he doesn't worry about his swing when he's in bed! Is he a good putter?" "I wouldn't be so sure and as to his putting....." It was meant as a joke, but her mother's answer contained no hint she had taken it as a joke and Jennie didn't want to be drawn into, what was likely to prove, a heavy conversation. Excusing herself, she returned to her room to find Tim in bed and apparently still asleep. As she leant down to get into bed, she heard the front door close and the crunch of feet on the gravel. She knew it was her step-father and half-brother, but, curious, went to the window and looked out. As there was a small table in front of the window and her step-father's car was parked next to the house, it was difficult for her to see what was happening without leaning over the table and as she did her cotton nightdress, shortened by too many washes in hot water, ran up her legs giving, the now awake, Tim an unrestricted view of all her charms. It was an opportunity he couldn't resist and he slid quickly out of bed, moved over to where she was standing, wrapped his arms around her body, slipped his hands under the nightshirt and fondled her tits. He loved her tits, they weren't big, just a good handful, but after twenty-four years of marriage, they were still reasonably pert with pink, pencil-eraser nipples and large, almost circular, areolas. She stood up and pushed back against him, wriggling her bum against his cock. "Mmm, I guess you're pleased to see me -- or is it just morning wood?" He laughed and replied, "Pleased to see you of course, my love." She jabbed her elbow into his ribs and turned to face him. "You'd better be." He laughed again and was surprised when she put her hands on his chest and pushed him down onto the bed. With a gleam in her eye, she jumped on the bed and straddled him; her legs either side of his thighs, her cunt resting against his cock. It felt good and she started to rub her clit against him, sliding her cunt slowly and sensually, backwards and forwards. He watched; he knew what she was going do as she'd done it many times before and usually when she was feeling horny. "Fancy it, do you?" She nodded and took her nightshirt off, exposing her hard-nippled breasts. She cupped them in the palms of her hands, lifted them, bounced them up and down once or twice and flaunted them at him. He felt compelled to comment. "Not bad." "I hope you weren't going to add; 'for a forty-four year old'." "I wouldn't dream of it." She smiled at him and started once more to move against him. It didn't take long for her to cum; and when she did, it was clear she was more excited than normal. She ground against his cock, her breath coming in gasps and when she came, in her usual manner invoking every Anglo-Saxon term she knew and imploring him to abuse her and her body. When she had finished; she stayed mounted, playing with her tits, rubbing her cunt against him, coating his cock with her juices and trying, with little success, to entice him with her interpretation of a vamp. When she'd teased him enough, she dismounted, lay beside him, kissed him and reached for his cock. "It's your turn. Do you want me to blow or wank you - or both?' It was an inviting offer, but after her performance, all he wanted was to fuck her. "Neither, I'm going to fuck you -- although you can start with a blow job." "Greedy bugger. My mouth not enough for you?" "Shut up. Get on your knees and stick your bum in the air. It's doggy fashion for you, young lady." The banter was good natured; humour with a strong sexual motif. She looked at him closely; she could see he was more excited than usual and she knew when that happened, she was in for a no-holds-barred fuck. Without waiting for further instructions she got onto her knees, stuck her bum as high as she could in the air, wiggled it seductively and waited for him, wondering what he would do. He got behind her, on his heels rather than his knees, took his cock in his right hand and pushed it gently against her other hole. She gasped, she wasn't expecting anal sex, but if he wanted it, she was ready. "Oops, missed." He laughed again and adjusted his cock so that it was rubbing against the lips of her cunt and laughed when she pushed against him; inviting him in. He rubbed the head of his cock against her cunt once more; he wanted to drive it into her, but he also wanted to tease her. "Tim, if you don't stick your cock into my cunt, you're not getting any." "OK, but I need to get a condom." "Tim. I'm forty-four, I keep getting hot flashes and haven't had a period for four months. Don't bother." He laughed and without pausing thrust forward, slipping his cock between the lips of her wet cunt and surprising her. She gasped and pushed against him. She loved his cock in her cunt, loved the way he made love and in particular she loved the attention he gave to her needs. Fifteen years ago, when Tim had been working away from home for long spells, she'd taken a lover, but it hadn't taken long for her to realise occasional sex with Tim was far more enjoyable than more frequent sex with her lover. She had been expecting being fucked hard and she wasn't disappointed. Tim drove into her, his cock driving to the bottom of her cunt; so deep she thought he would drive into her womb. She responded to his thrusts, she was as excited as him, she wanted to cum and she wanted to feel his cum flooding her cunt. It had been a long time since she'd been on the pill and since that time she'd not felt his cum leaking out of her cunt and for some, inexplicable reason she wanted to feel it again. They came together; he'd been ready for some time but waited until he could tell by the sound of her breathing, the way she was responding to his thrusts and her unladylike urgings she was ready. "Fuck me Tim. Fill me. Fill my cunt. Cum in me." It wasn't literate, but described succinctly her needs. He obliged; his cum spurting inside her, bathing the inside of her cunt and spraying the entrance of her womb while she pushed against him, straining her cunt muscles in an attempt to milk his cock. When they had finished, they lay together, kissing and enjoying a post-coital feeling of mild euphoria. For Jennie there was an added feeling of post-coital tryst occasioned by the sensation of his cum slipping languorously from her cunt and down her thighs. She had waited almost ten years for him to plant his cum inside her and she was happy; which was why she couldn't understand why she felt like crying. She kissed him again; she loved him and was re-assured by her belief he loved her. For five minutes they lay unmoving, their breathing gradually returning to normal, his still slick cock gradually wilting. It was Jennie who broke the silence. "I know this might sound an odd question, but you're good in bed. I'd like to claim all the credit for teaching you, but you were good from the start. Where did you learn to fuck?" The question was unexpected; in the twenty-four years since they had married, during which they'd had two children and enjoyed a good sex-life, she had never enquired about his prior sexual experience. Still, he couldn't imagine her being jealous, but her comment on his performance in bed, had planted a seed of doubt about her fidelity in his mind. "I was taught by an expert." If her question had been unexpected so was his response and based on what she knew about his girlfriends before they had married, an answer Jennie had not anticipated. She had always thought he'd had some prior experience, he'd certainly shown little sign of nerves when he had taken her virginity on the bed in her parent's caravan in Skegness on a wet Sunday afternoon over twenty-six years ago, but had always assumed his prowess in bed came naturally; an adjunct to his prowess at sports. "Tell me more!" "Er, O.K. I'm not the type to kiss and tell, but as it's you who's asking and it isn't likely to be broadcast to the world, I'll tell you. "Well I've always wondered, but I never dared ask. How did you start?" "It's quite a story and it took place on the weekend of my eighteenth birthday. You remember mum and dad lived in Shilton and I went to school there until the end of the fifth form?" "Yes, that was where my grandmother lived when I was small. Mum and I lived with her for a couple of years just after my dad left us and just before she married Gerald. It was the time when mum had no money." "Well, by the time I was eighteen, we had moved to Newbold and I was playing for the local rugby team there. We were playing the Shilton College Old Boys' XV that weekend and as you might expect, I knew a lot of the Shilton squad because I'd been to school with them. On the Friday before the game there was an evening match between the Tigers and a South African side and most of players on both teams took the bus to Leicester for the game. On the bus my mate, Harry, told me that after the game both teams were going back to the Admiral in Shilton for a swift drink and food, but as we were playing each other the next afternoon, it wouldn't be a long night. What he failed to add was the lads had a joint presentation for me to celebrate my birthday and to recognise my being the top scorer for the season." "I know the Admiral; it's not far from where mum and I lived with granny." "Yes, well," Tim continued, "we got back to the Admiral at about ten o'clock, had a couple of pies and two or three pints of beer. Just before closing the lads gathered round, sang 'Happy Birthday' and called to Joe, the landlord, to ask if the present was ready. "You might remember, at that time, the Admiral was having bedrooms built upstairs at the back so they could do bed and breakfast? " He waited until she nodded. "Well, Joe took me behind the bar, pointed me up the stairs to the new bedrooms and told me, 'Your present's up there.' As I was going up the stairs one of the lads shouted, 'Try it for size and tell us about it tomorrow'. "When I got upstairs, I went down the still unfinished corridor until I got to the only room with a door, opened it and went in. The room was dim, but sitting on a chair next to the bed and reading a magazine was an attractive woman wearing a black cocktail dress and a matching short jacket which was draped around her shoulders. She was slim, her makeup was perfect and her blond hair immaculate; cut in the feathered, big hair style popular in the late seventies and early eighties. Although, at first glance, she looked quite young, when I looked more closely, I could see she was about ten to fifteen years older than me, perhaps in her mid-thirties, but definitely younger than my mother. When she saw me, she stood up, looked at me, lifted the jacket off her shoulders and put it over the back of the chair, smiled and wished me a happy birthday. "I'd had no idea what was waiting in the room, but must admit I was not unhappy with my present. Apparently Harry had been the prime mover behind the choice of present and had approached the woman -- she told me later her name was Felicity - through someone who knew her." He'd never been with a woman before and he hadn't been expecting a whore for his present, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially if the gift it was bearing was as attractive as Felicity. He knew she was a whore, but looking at her, he found it difficult to believe someone as attractive and well groomed as her could really be a practitioner of the oldest profession. For a moment they had stood looking at each other and then she had smiled once again, moved over and kissed him on the cheek and told him what he was getting for his birthday. "Tim, I've been told it's your eighteenth birthday and due to the good graces of your friends I'm going to be your birthday present. I'm going to be your lover for the night, a paid lover I know, but I expect you to treat me as a lover and that means with respect and care." Tim sank back onto the pillows and looked at Jennie. "Go on," she encouraged him, "tell me more." "She was good. I was naïve when it came to sex and that night -- and into the morning I might add - she taught me everything about making love even how to kiss a woman and how to take off her clothes." "Sounds really interesting -- carry on." "Do you want the blow-by-blow or the potted version?' "The blow--by-blow." For the next ten minutes he described how Felicity had introduced him to sex, including the art of foreplay. It had started innocently enough; she had showed him how to kiss properly, but as he'd done it before she hadn't really taught him much. When, however, it came to a lesson on the art of removing a woman's clothing, something he'd never attempted, he'd listened intently to her instructions. The dress zip had been easy; when instructed to do so, he'd run it down her back in record time and then watched as she'd shrugged her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. She was orchestrating everything and he was only too pleased to follow her instructions. Her next instructions sounded simple, but a combination of nerves and four pints of beer were enough to cause him confusion. Her instructions were explicit; he was told to put a finger of his left hand under the strap and lift it; take the side with the hooks on in his right hand, slide the hooks to his left and out of the eyes and remove the bra, but when he came to perform, he was all fingers and thumbs. Finding the hooks was easy enough, but unhooking them was a test of a dexterity he didn't seem to possess. He pushed and pulled for what seemed like five minutes, becoming increasingly embarrassed as he continued to fail and when he somehow managed to separate the two sides, it was a welcome relief. While he was fumbling, she had said nothing and when she spoke again, merely continued with her instructions, telling him to lift the straps off her shoulders and let them fall onto her arms. Later he found it difficult to describe how intently he'd watched as the silky red fabric slipped down her arms to reveal her tits. They were magnificent -- not a match for his wife of course, but pretty outstanding. "And just how outstanding?" Jennie smiled at her double entendre. "Well her nipples were pretty outstanding, a similar colour to yours and really long." "Nicer than mine?" He looked at her; if he was going to be quizzed like this every time he described Felicity; he'd better be a little less enthusiastic. "No; but quite good." It was a lie; they were much longer and sexier than Jennie's, but he knew if he even hinted they were superior to hers, he was in for trouble. "So what happened next?" "I took her knickers off. They were red silk and matched her bra, but, thank God, were much easier to remove. He paused for a second as he recalled the moment her had first seen a woman almost completely naked. She'd been a vision, standing there in her red suspender belt, black, seamed stockings, four inch, red high heels and, incongruously, a single-strand pearl necklace. She'd posed for a moment, almost model-like, with her hands on her hips and her hips thrust forward slightly as if to emphasise her cunt. She'd had almost blond pubic hair, almost the same colour as Jennie's. She'd let him look for a few moments -- drool was probably a more accurate description - and then held her hands up with her palms facing away from him, giving him the opportunity to notice her lipstick colour, pink, almost matched the colour of her nail varnish and was a similar colour to her nipples and areolas. "And?" Jennie's voice interrupted his reverie and he returned to his narrative, although providing her with a more prosaic description of the unveiling. He ended with a description of her tits. "They were perfect." It was the wrong word. "And mine aren't?" "I didn't say that. In fact they were so similar to yours, she might have been your sister." "Older or younger?" "Why, older of course." She smiled and added, "Go on." "She asked me if I liked what saw and when I nodded, she started to remove my clothes. It was abundantly clear, from the way she removed them, she'd done it many times before and by the time she pulled my trousers down my cock was as hard as it had ever been; so much so she had to wrestle my underwear past it. Once I was naked, she looked at me and said something to the effect, 'My, aren't we a big boy.' I suppose she said the same to all her men, but it made me feel good. What she did next made me feel even better." "And just what was that?" "She blew me. Without saying a word, she got hold of my cock, pulled back my foreskin and started to play with it. I can't describe everything she did, but suffice it to say it took only a minute at the most before I was pumping my spunk into her mouth and then watching her swallow it without batting an eye." "Was that a dig at me?" "No, not at all." Another lie. Jennie was a good blow job artiste, but for some reason, wouldn't swallow his cum. She would hold it in her mouth, show him, even stick out a cum-laden tongue, but would never swallow it. "Go on." "OK -- and then what happened?" "You can have one guess -- after all, she was a whore." "You fucked her." "I did." "Was it good?" Another question with only a hiding-to-nothing answer and so he ignored it and continued with his narrative. "We got into bed. Well we got into bed after she told me she would only remove the rest of her clothes if we got into bed. By the time we'd got into bed my cock was starting to get hard again." "Hmmm, I guess the performance has dropped off since then." "Stop taking the mickey. Wait until I've finished this story and I'll show you performance." "Promises, promises." "I think she only had to wank me twice and it was hard. I tried to mount her, but she was having none of it. She might have been a whore, but it was clear she wanted to participate fully in the action. I'd never given head to a girl, the most I'd ever done was finger-fuck, and not very expertly, my sister's best friend and I'd no idea how to play with a woman's cunt. By the time she'd finished with me, I'd been given the Cook's tour of her private parts, had sucked and licked her to her climax and had my face coated in her cum. "What was her cunt like?" Another odd question, but he ought to answer. He thought for a moment; if he compared it to cunts in general it might give her the idea he'd had experience of cunts other than hers; his answer had to be specific. "Well; actually, it was similar to yours. Her clit was about the same size, her labia were similar and when I managed, with her help, to find her G-spot, she turned on almost as quickly as you." Tim's First Time "Tell me how you fucked her." He looked at her, she had shown interest in the sex from the start, but as the descriptions had become more explicit her demeanour had started to change; there was a gleam in her eye, her lips were parted and from time to time, she surreptitiously licked her lips; all evidence to him of her increasing sexual excitement. Her excitement excited him and he was torn between finishing his story and fucking her. It was her demand he continue which made him abandon the second option. "Go on." "We fucked." "I know you did, but what was it like?" "Enjoyable. She knew I was a virgin and did everything she could to help me; starting by showing me how to put on a condom." "You mean your first time you didn't try and put it on the wrong way round?" "No -- thanks to her. We fucked twice; the first time was the most memorable, but the second was the most enjoyable. I slipped in easily -- she had a biggish cunt. I suppose it was a product of her profession." "Not as tight as mine then?" "No, dear." At least before you had the two kids, he thought. "I started off too quickly, but she managed to restrain me from pounding my way into her womb. It couldn't have been easy for her as I was being driven by raging teenage hormones, but she knew her profession and even managed to slow me down sufficiently such that at one point, she was able to play with me; even milk me with her cunt muscles. It was the first time I'd fucked and I was getting an expert." "Hmmm." "Not as expert as you, of course." She knew it was a bunch of cobblers, but it made her smile. "When I started to cum, and in spite of her efforts it really didn't take long, my cock became a jack hammer on full power. You have to remember I was eighteen and all I could think of was cumming in her cunt - actually, at that moment, I was so excited any cunt would have done. When I started to cum, she grabbed me around my shoulders and started to fuck me using her cunt to pump me like there was no tomorrow. I came first; I have to admit I don't remember much about it, but I do remember her climax. She held onto me even after I'd finished, driving her clit against my pubic bone until she came. When she did, mere seconds after me, she exploded, she bucked against my body, her thighs and stomach muscles became rigid, she started to gasp and all the time she was cumming a torrent of gutter language was spewing from her mouth." "Like what?" "It's difficult to remember in detail, but it referenced filling her cunt with cum, driving my cock into her womb and a list of further, impossible sexual tasks. Funny, I seem to remember someone else who, quite recently, tried to set me similar tasks." She ignored the jab and asked, "What about the second time?" "When we finished we lay side-by-side for I don't know how long. We kissed, not perfunctory kisses, but almost loving ones, in fact once again I found it difficult to believe she was a whore. The caressing didn't last long; I'd already cum twice, but lying next to an attractive, naked woman with an amazing body, was enough to raise the dead." He remembered the second time. Their love-making had been less frantic, but still directed by her. He had tried to mount her missionary fashion, but was quickly disabused of his plan. She got on all fours, her bum in the air and for a moment, he had wondered if she wanted him to fuck her in the bum. When he moved to mount her, she reached back, got hold of his cock and manoeuvred it into her cunt. He'd liked it; he'd liked it so much he had introduced the practice to Jennie the second time they'd fucked and since then their favourite position had been doggy style. In the early years he had restricted his forays to her cunt but, in recent years and at her insistence, their horizons had expanded to include anal sex. "As amazing as mine?" "Nearly." They had fallen asleep almost immediately after the second episode and when he awoke the next morning, she was not in the room. The toilet was still flushing and he'd heard the back door to the pub close. Rushing to the window, he'd seen her walking down the lane that led back into the village. She'd left without saying goodbye or telling him her real name. "And that's it?" "Not quite everything. About two months later the 'phone rang and my dad answered it. I couldn't hear what the caller was telling him, but it was obvious my dad wasn't happy about it. I tried to make sense of the conversation, but all I could make of it was that someone was complaining about me and my father was having none of it. I asked him what it was about, but he just said it was some fool who didn't know what they were talking about. A couple of weeks after the call, dad came up to me while I was cleaning my boots out in the yard and asked me if I had slept with a prostitute. It took me by surprise, but I knew he hadn't asked it out of the blue and so I admitted I'd spent the night with a woman of uncertain virtue, but told him a much shorter and censored version of what I've just told you. When I'd finished, he finally told me what the caller had said. Apparently the call had been from a woman who had said she was pregnant and I was the father. I didn't know what to do. I was eighteen, still at school and looking back, I guess I was thankful my father sent the woman packing." "And did you ever meet her again?" "Not until years later and then purely by chance. I have to admit the meeting was uncomfortable for both of us, but we didn't discuss our previous relationship; circumstances had changed vastly for both of us and neither of us wished to bring it up. You could say we studiously ignored it." As he finished speaking Jennie's mother shouted up the stairs to announce breakfast was ready and they should hurry up and get dressed. At breakfast Jennie read the morning paper and nibbled on a slice of toast while Tim and her mother made small talk. When she had finished reading, she looked at her mother and said, "Mum, do you remember your first time?" "Jennie, I'm not sure that's a question you should be asking your mother. Anyway; why are you asking?" "It's just that Tim and I were having a bit of fun this morning and I asked him about his first time." As she spoke, the colour drained from her mother's face and she glanced warily towards Tim. "He told me he had slept with some thirty-odd year old floozy in the rooms over the Admiral and that she had 'phoned his father some time later and told him she was pregnant. Apparently he had no idea who she was, but from what he said, she must have been a local woman because she walked home that morning. Isn't that right Tim?' Tim nodded, she was a local woman. The fact she'd walked from the pub hadn't registered with him at the time, but he'd met her since and she was definitely local -- very local. "Apparently it was Tim's eighteenth birthday, which must have been just before you married Gerald, so if she really was pregnant, she would have been having her baby at the same time as you had Richard. Perhaps you knew her; it would have been likely she would have been attending the same ante-natal clinic as you and even if she hadn't, you would surely have seen her about the village with a pram. She must have been about your age and from Tim's description, must have looked somewhat like you. If she was pregnant, and I'm sure she wasn't, you must have some idea who she was." Jennie's mother had said nothing, merely listening to her daughter and wondering just how much Tim had told her. Back in the late seventies and early eighties life had been extremely difficult for Jennie and her and she'd had to supplement her meagre earnings by working as a part-time lady of the night. She hadn't wanted to, but she'd been selective and discrete and few people in the town knew of her other life. She'd met Gerald in March of 1979, married him and had Richard eight months later. She hadn't regretted being a whore; she'd enjoyed the sex most of the time and still did - whenever her husband could manage it. If she had a regret it was that she'd slept with her son, not that she hadn't enjoyed it, merely that it complicated matters. He'd said nothing when they'd met six years later and they had avoided discussing it since. Now it appeared he'd told Jennie and she didn't know what to do. Across from her Tim was facing a similar dilemma. He'd told Jennie because he'd thought there was no way of identifying her mother as his first lover, but thinking back, he realised he had described her in detail and what was more, had emphasised how similar she was to Jennie. It might not take much for her to piece the jigsaw together and then what would happen? Their secret might have been safe, but for an odd set of circumstances. Although it was early on a weekend morning, for some, inexplicable, reason her mother had chosen to wear lipstick and nail varnish, in the same colour pink she had worn all those years earlier, and bizarrely, her pearl necklace. Jennie hadn't noticed the combination earlier, but as her mother reached up to stroke her ear lobe -- something she did when she was nervous -- Jennie noticed the matching pinks set against the pearl necklace. She didn't know why her mother was still wearing the necklace; she usually only wore it on formal occasions, but the combination produced a feeling of unease, a feeling there was something significant about the juxtaposition of items. She thought for a moment and then dismissed it and would probably have never thought about it again if, out of the corner of her eye, she hadn't seen her mother surreptitiously trying to attract Tim's attention. It was odd. Why was her mother trying to attract Tim's attention without her knowing? Did her mother have something she wanted to discuss with Tim which she didn't want her to hear? Whatever it was, she didn't feel prepared to question her mother and so said nothing, but the feeling of unease persisted throughout the morning. Her father and brother returned from the golf club at just after one o'clock and following their usual routine suggested they all go to the pub for a Sunday lunch-time drink. Jennie agreed readily, she liked her step-father's local, but was surprised when first her mother and then Tim demurred; her mother because she had to finish preparing lunch and Tim because his stomach was still feeling queasy after his over-indulgence of the previous evening, but suggesting he might join them if his stomach settled down. The three set-off for the pub leaving the other two in the house. As they walked, they talked; initially the conversation had involved all three, but as they continued the conversation turned to football, something Jennie wasn't interested in, leaving Gerald and Richard to talk among themselves. Left to herself, Jennie's thoughts returned to the events at the breakfast table. Her mother's actions had been odd and disconcerting - what had her mother wanted to discuss with Tim she was not supposed to hear? The more she thought about it, the more upset she became and then it hit her; her mother was at home with Tim - and alone. "Gerald, I've just remembered, I promised to 'phone a friend at one-thirty and I've left my mobile in the bedroom. I'll have to go back. I'll join you later." "You can use mine." "I can't remember her number; it's on my phone." As she walked back to the house, she tried to rationalise what had happened at breakfast. One conclusion was that her mother and husband were having an affair, but it was unlikely as they lived two hours away and on their infrequent visits, she couldn't remember an occasion when the two had spent time together without another member of the family present. But there had to be something. Usually the family used the front door as their entrance to the house, but the path to the pub ran at the back of the house and rather than go round to the front, she entered through the back gate and went up the path to the kitchen door. The house looked empty, but when she opened the door she could hear voices and what sounded like crying. Closing the back door as quietly as she could, she walked as silently as possible towards the living room, the apparent location of the voices. When she got to the living room she stopped; the door was ajar leaving a small gap between the door and the jamb and through it she could see her mother sitting on the settee with Tim next to her; his arm around her shoulders. She knew she should make her presence known, but she had to find out what was going on and so she paused, watched and listened. "But what if Jennie, finds out? What is she going to say if she discovers not only has her mother fucked her husband, but she was also a prostitute?" "Sandra, it was over thirty years ago; it happened once and how could we have possibly known that eight years later I would marry your daughter? It's spilt milk. I'm not sure how Jennie would react if she were to find out, but she's rational, loves both of us and even if it upsets her at first, I expect she'll also realise it's spilt milk. Besides, if we're careful, she'll never find out." "But it's not that, is it? It's not just that we had sex. It's that Richard is your son which is going to be the problem." "It might be, but if that ever came out it wouldn't only be a matter between Jennie, you and me, it would also involve both Gerald and Richard and I'm sure, if Jennie did find out, she wouldn't want to ruin your marriage and Richard's relationship with Gerald." Standing at the door Jennie wasn't sure about anything. In the last minute she had discovered that her mother had fucked her husband and had been a whore and to compound matters, the person she had thought her step-brother was also her husband's son Her first re-action was to burst in and demand to know how they could have betrayed her and lied to her over the years, but there was something about her mother's demeanour, a look of abject despair, which made her pause. What her husband had said was true; she loved her mother and she loved him and he had been right; there was no way either of them could have known she and Tim would marry. As to her mother being a whore, it wasn't nice, but it had been done out of desperation and had been done for her. Silently she tiptoed back to the kitchen; headed for the pub.