0 comments/ 318013 views/ 20 favorites A Boy No Longer By: Brandy Chase Chapter 1 Marcus was a fine looking young lad of fourteen when he came to live with me and my husband on our farm several miles outside of town. He had lost both his parents in a fire which destroyed their home above the general store they had owned in town. The loss was as hard on me as it had been on Marcus, his mother was my sister. We were all the family he had left. For that matter, he was all the family we had left within a thousand miles or so. The rest of our family still lived back east. We had moved west five years earlier to stake a claim on a piece of Mother Earth and to become farmers. We were doing fairly well by ourselves but Marcus moving in had been a great help to my husband, Thomas. He had been very withdrawn for a long time afterwards, never having had much to say, always off by himself. It was obvious he was lonesome and still grieving over the loss of his family. He also seemed to miss living in town where he had had friends. Out here on the farm, there was only us. A week before Marcus' sixteenth birthday, we lost Thomas after a long bout with pneumonia. You would think that in this modern age of 1890 a doctor could do more for a person with pneumonia. Poor old Doc Howard had made the long horseback ride out to our place several times to treat Thomas. But there I was, at the ripe old age of thirty-two, a widow. Marcus hadn't taken this major life-changing event very well either. I thank the good Lord that I had Marcus at that point in my life or I would have probably lost the farm too. He was a big strapping boy, with the same muscular build his father had had. I had always envied my sister for having a husband so handsome and well built. Not that Thomas wasn't a handsome and muscular man because he was, but Marcus' father had muscles that rippled under his dark skin when he moved. I knew it was wrong to feel that way, but I couldn't help it. Now that Marcus was doing most of the physical work around the farm he was developing an even larger build. His skin was deeply tanned from many hours in the sun. When he came inside all sweaty after a long day of labor, the hard muscles in his arms and chest resembled large snakes moving under his skin. One especially hot evening about six months ago, Marcus came in just before dark. I had supper ready for him. After quickly washing up he headed out of the kitchen toward his room. "Where you going?" I asked. "I'm just going to put a clean shirt," he replied. "You don't need a shirt," I said, thinking to myself how much I would enjoy eyeing his muscles all through supper. "I can't sit down at the table with no shirt on," he stated. "Why not? It's very warm in here tonight. Besides, a hard-working man should be able to eat his supper in comfort and shouldn't have to wear a shirt at his own table if he doesn't want to," I suggested. "It is awfully hot. You sure you won't mind?" he asked. "Of course not," I answered. "Sit down and eat before your supper gets cold." We sat through the evening meal talking about how things were going around the farm and such things as that. But my mind was far too busy watching him to pay too much attention to what he was saying. By the time supper was over, I have to admit that things had gotten a lot hotter for me and a lot wetter. I was almost relieved to start cleaning up from supper and get away from the vision and the evil thoughts I was having about my young nephew. While cleaning up the kitchen after supper I heated water and poured it into the big steel tub on the back porch for him to bath in. It took a while to heat and carry enough water. Finally I had enough water in the tub and pulled the door shut as he started undressing to bath. I had been quite horny and a bit sneaky over the last few months and would turn the lantern in the kitchen down low and peek out the window, watching him bath. He had become an incredibly handsome young man. I loved to watch him lather up and wash his long blonde hair. With all that soap on his head, I knew he had to keep his eyes closed tightly and I didn't have to fear him catching me gawking at him. My favorite part of the whole process was after he finished washing his hair, he would call for me to bring another bucket of hot water to rinse the soap out of his hair. He would cover himself with the wash rag and I would slowly, very slowly, pour the bucket of water over his head until the lather was rinsed away. I always wished for the wash rag to slip out of place; a few times it did, but I always acted like I hadn't noticed. I spent many wonderful evenings with my face pressed against that kitchen window and my hand under my skirts and inside my undergarments. Every time he would stand up in the tub and started drying, I would start getting wetter between my thighs. By the time he had finished dressing, I was always sitting in the front room with a book open like I had been reading the whole time he had been bathing. On several occasions while I was bathing I had thought I'd caught him out the corner of my eye peeking at me through the same window. I was never able to get a good enough look to see if he was or not. But if he was, I'm sure he got an eyeful, I made sure of that. I was going on thirty-five-years old but my body was still in good shape and us Irish gals are noted for having beautiful red hair. I mean, it wasn't like he was sneaking a peek at some old hag, if he really was peeking at all. But it was a nice fantasy for me even if he wasn't. For his eighteenth birthday, I had managed to save a little money to give him to go to town with. I figured an eighteen-year-old young man had things he would like to do in town. I had talked with him about drinking too much and how the salon girls would try to come on to him. I didn't want him going to town and getting taken but the first floozy who flapped her skirts in his direction. Early that afternoon I prepared his bath; he needed to get an early start, it was a two-hour ride to town. He would stay with one of his friends and come home the next afternoon. I took my usual station at the window after he had gotten into the tub. I was ready with the bucket of water to rinse his hair when he called for it, even though I wasn't quite ready to leave my window yet. As I slowly poured it over his head he started trying to talk to me. "Aunt Millie, I really don't like the idea of leaving you alone out here for two days and a night," he said. I tossed a towel over his head and he started drying his hair. "I appreciate that," I replied, watching him rub the towel roughly over his head. "Is that how you dry your hair, boy?" I asked, taking the towel from his hands. "No wonder your hair is still wet for so long after a bath. Here, let me show you how to dry it right." I worked the towel briskly through his hair, carefully making sure to work it through of all his hair. "See, you gotta work the towel through your hair, not just over it," I said. "That feels great. I shoulda got you to do that a long time ago," he smiled up at me. "Maybe you better show me how to do it one more time, I'm a slow learner." Now I took my time and even worked my way down to dry his ears and neck. I could feel the tension in his neck muscles. I gently worked my finger over his large neck. "How's that feel?" "Great," he answered. I kept massaging away, slowly working my way over his powerful shoulders and down his broad back a little. "Oh, that feels wonderful," he moaned, leaning slightly forward so I could go farther down his back. At least, I was hoping that was why he leaned forward. "Does that feel better?" I asked softly. "That feels good enough to make a fella almost forget about goin' to town," he replied. I stepped to the side of the tub, wishing he really meant that, but I knew he was just trying to please me. I looked him in the eye. "A young man needs to go to town now and then to sew a few wild oats, it's nature's way," I said. "Whew, it's getting hot out here," I said, fanning the top of my blouse. "All that steam from your bath is getting to me I think." I undid the two top buttons of my blouse. I was curious what effect this might have on him. "I know you'll be fine, but still I'm not so sure I like the idea of leaving you alone for so long," he said. I knelt beside the tub, took his hand, and leaned forward over the edge of the tub. I could feel his eyes boring deep into my cleavage. He tried to avert his eyes so I wouldn't see him staring, but he couldn't. "I'll be fine while you’re away. Maybe a bit lonely, but I'll be fine. There's things a man's gotta do, especially on his eighteenth birthday." I watched his face turn three shades of red. His eyes were still trying to sneak a peek down my blouse. "Well, yeah, but you shouldn't talk about something like that. It's a little embarrassing you know," he stammered. "Why is it embarrassing? It's human nature," I replied. "Yeah, but it ain't the sorta of thing a fella talks to his aunt about," he said shyly. "You don't have any men around here to talk to, so you're stuck with me. And I don't mind discussing these important matters with you," I said, trying to ease his embarrassment. "There's a lot of things a young man needs to know about life." "I know, but gosh, Aunt Millie, I never figured you'd be the one to explain them to me," he said sheepishly. "Well, I guess it's my place to tell you that stuff now that your father and uncle are gone," I replied. "And you're eighteen now, how about dropping the aunt part of my name? You're making me feel like an old maid aunt." "I'm sorry, Aunt Millie, I mean Millie, I didn't mean to make you feel old. You're still a beautiful woman," he apologized. "Why thank you, kind Sir, I appreciate the compliment. A woman my age needs that once in a while, just like a young man needs certain things once in a while," I said with a coy grin. "Honest, you are a beautiful lady. I wasn't just trying to make you feel good," he said looking a bit embarrassed again. "Any man would you be proud to be seen with you and pleased to be with you." "Marcus, now you're beginning to embarrass me," I grinned. "And just what do you mean by, 'pleased to be with me'? Be with me how?" "I'm sorry, Aunt Millie, I didn't mean it that way," he tried to retract his statement. "I mean you're a nice lady to be with." He kept getting himself in deeper and I wasn't about to let up on him now. "I know what you meant. And I'm honored that a handsome young fella like yourself would feel that way about me," I smiled. "I noticed you looking down my blouse a while ago." He face turned crimson. "I didn't mean to, but I couldn't help it. Please forgive my rudeness," he begged. "I didn't mind. It even excited me a little. It's been a long time since a man looked at my breasts that way," I said, undoing another button for his benefit. "You've probably never seen a woman's breasts before have you?" "Ah no, Ma'am, I ah, haven't," he stumbled, his eyes widened as he stared farther down my blouse. "Have you ever wanted to?" I asked in a soft, gentle, yet teasing voice. He couldn't answer; he just sat there, stared with his mouth open as I undid another button, than another. I thought his jaw was going to drop into the water when I pulled my blouse back over my shoulders, slipped it off my arms, and let it tumble to the porch. I noticed the wash rag over his lap was sticking up into the air a bit now too. "Looks like you have a pretty big problem there," I smiled, leaning forward to give him a better view of my cleavage. He tried to conceal his growing member from my sight. I pulled his hands away. "That's all right, that's what's supposed to happen when you see a lady undressing for you," I said. "I know, but I've never, I mean, I've… Oh God, I don't know what I mean," he apologized again. "Well, I know what you mean even if you don't," I smiled into his bright-blue eyes as I slowly lifted the wash rag from his lap revealing his swollen manhood. He gasped as I gently wrapped my hand around it. "How does that feel?" I purred. "Oh my God!" was all he said as I felt him growing harder. "Does this feel good?" I whispered, slowly stroking his now throbbing shaft. I could sense his embarrassment, but I could also sense he didn't want me to stop. His head leaned back, his eyes closed, and groan came from deep within him. I squeezed his shaft tight and stroked faster. It didn't take long for his body to go completely rigid, and a deep guttural growl to escape his lungs. "Oh God!" he groaned, his body quivered and shook. Then it happened, he erupted in my hand. His juice shot high up over his chest and stomach. I kept stroking him and it kept coming, some landed on my chest and slowly trickled down between my excited breasts. Some of it shot into my face, landing on my lips, which I quickly licked clean and wished for more. As I felt the pulsing of his still hard shaft slowly subside, I slowed but continued to gently stroke him. I didn't stop until I had felt the very last tiny pulsation. I knelt there for a while still gently rubbing him as he slowly began to shrink in my hand. I watched the last thick droplets of his delicious cum lightly spurt from him and glide down over the glistening swollen head of his penis and onto my fingers that were still wrapped around him. When I felt his body start to relax I leaned over him and licked the remaining cum from his spent member. It was delicious. I sucked him deep into my mouth and gently milked him for every last drop of the precious fluid I could coax from him. I finally released him as his body wilted into the tub. He lookup up into my eyes with a warm glow I had never seen in him before. A sweet smile covered his face as he watched me lick the last of his cum from my fingers. I slowly stood up, smiling down at him. "You better hurry if you're going to make it to town before dark." "I don't think I'll be goin' anywhere tonight," he mumbled, a huge smile crossed his handsome face, "except maybe to bed." "And just whose bed are you going to be sleeping in tonight?" I cooed, leaving the porch before he could come up with an answer. A Boy No Longer Ch. 2 After finishing his bath, Marcus seemed to be trying to avoid me for the next hour or so. I figured he was trying to figure out how to deal with what had just happened between us, what it all meant, and perhaps, just how improper it had been, or was it improper for that matter. I let him have his space for a while. If he needed to think things over, I didn't want to interfere with that. But after better than an hour, I decided it was time to step in and perhaps help him settle his mind a bit, or completely blow it. He was standing on the front porch, leaning against one of the posts next to the steps, staring up the empty dirt trail running in front of our farm. I eased up behind him, slid my arms around his narrow waist, snuggled up against him, and laid my head on his broad back. "What's wrong, Marcus? Something really seems to be working your mind overtime," I questioned. "If you still wanna go to town, I think you should go." "It's not that. My mind is going around in circles about what we did this afternoon," he replied. "You didn't do anything except enjoy what I was doing for you. If you're worried you did something wrong, you can shake that outta your head right now, cause you didn't," I said. "Well, I got a lot to think about," he replied. "Are you upset with me because of what I did?" I asked. "Gosh no! That was the most wonderful thing anyone has ever done for me. I never felt so great before," he replied. "You liked that, did ya?" I asked, hugging him closer. "Oh yeah, I loved it," he answered. "Well, what's bothering you about it?" I pressed on. "It's kinda embarrassing," he said. "What I did embarrassed you?" I asked. "No, the things runnin' through my mind are embarrassing to talk about," he said. "Things like what? You should be able to talk to me about anything without being embarrassed," I kept pressing him, I had to know just what was bothering him. For all I knew at that point, I might have ruined everything because of a few moments of uncontrolled passion earlier that day. "Okay, if ya really wanna know. That was the first time I ever did anything with a woman. I've never even kissed a girl before," he finally opened up. "I mean, I didn't even know what I was supposed to do. I felt so stupid." "You're not supposed to know what to do yet. I would've been disappointed if you had," I explained. "You did just what you should've done, sit there and enjoy something a woman was doing just for your pleasure." "Well, I guess I did it right then, cause that's just what I did," he smiled. "But I know there's things I was supposed to do to make you feel good too, I just didn't know what. Even if I had known what, I wouldn't have known how." I almost had to laugh at his innocence, but I fought it off. Instead, I hugged him just that much tighter. "You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that," I said. "I love the idea of being your first and teaching you the right way to please a woman and yourself. If you listen to what the guys in a saloon tell ya, you wouldn't be pleasing nobody except yourself." "Living out here in the middle of nowhere like this, today was probably all the sex I'll have for a long time," he replied. "Wouldn't you like to do it with me again," I asked, using my best I'm-disappointed voice. "Of course I would, but after my great performance this afternoon, I'm pretty sure you're not gonna be too interested in me anymore," he said. "I got so mad at myself for not knowing what to do. I mean, there were things I wanted to do, but I was afraid you wouldn't like it and make me stop, or even worse, get mad and stop doing what you were doing." "What kind of things, Honey? What did you want to do to me?" I asked, still trying to coax some answers from him. "Did you want to touch me?" He shook his head, yes, but said nothing. "Where?" I pressed on. "Did you want to touch my breasts?" "It was even worse than that. I know this is gonna sound really bad, but I actually wanted to kiss them," he said in a quiet voice, his face glowed red. "What's so bad about that?" I asked, backing away from him a little and starting to slowly unbutton my blouse behind him. "Well, nothing I guess, but it just didn't seem like the kind of thing a lady would want a fella to do," he explained. "Actually, most women love that," I replied, still slowly working at the many buttons on my blouse. "Really?" he exclaimed, spinning around to face me just as I pulled the blouse off and laid it over the porch railing. He stood there staring; his innocent blue eyes, wide with surprise, gazed down at me. That's one of the nice things about living out here on the prairie in the middle of nowhere, there's never anyone else around. And if someone was coming from either direction, you could see the dust cloud they were kicking up from miles away. So privacy was not a problem out here. A person could run around naked as the proverbial Jay Bird out here for weeks on end and no one would see you or know about it, or even care, for that matter. I took both of his large hands and placed them on my breasts. He very timidly and cautiously ran his hands over them. Gradually he gained a little courage or maybe his hormones kicked in, and he began to squeeze them gently. "They're so soft," he whispered down at me. "They're even softer once you get all my clothes off," I replied, suggestively sliding a shoulder strap over one shoulder. You know, just to see if he would take the hint. He did, carefully pulling the other strap over my shoulder. But he stopped there and slid his labor-roughened hands over the soft, smooth skin of my shoulders. It was hard for me to fathom he had never seen a girl's bare shoulders before, but he hadn't. He ran the backs of his huge fingers gently over my shoulders, up my neck, and across my throat and upper chest. He touched me so gently his fingers felt like wisps of spider web drifting over my skin. If the boy had nothing else going for him, he had patience; he seemed perfectly content just to touch my shoulders and neck forever. "I knew women were supposed to be soft and smooth to touch, but I never dreamed they would be this soft," he said quietly, almost sounding in awe. "Well, we are," I replied. "And we taste even softer. Kiss my shoulder." He looked me in the eyes as if he were asking if I really meant it. I gave him a little "yes" nod. He slowly leaned down to me, timidly touching his lips to my shoulder. Him being 6'2" and me being only 5'3" made for a long way for him to bend over. But he must not have minded it because his lips lingered over my shoulders and neck for a tantalizingly long while. By the time he raised back up to tower above me, he had raised my breathing and heart rate by several degrees. "You like that?" I whispered, looking up into his face, searching for signs of just what might be running through his mind at that moment. He slid his muscular arms around my waist. "Yes, Ma'am, I loved it, but please don't let me make a fool out of myself." I could feel the nervousness in his tense inexperienced body as he pulled me close. I could also feel the hardness of his eager manhood pressing against my stomach. "You don't have to worry about that," I whispered, putting my arms around his thick neck and pulling his face down to mine. His kiss was tentative and tender at first, but quickly grew aggressive and passionate. I waited with anticipation for his tongue to slide between my lips, but either the idea didn't cross his mind or he was afraid to try it. Well, you've heard the old saying, "nothing ventured nothing gained," obviously, I'm the adventurous type; I gently slid my tongue over his lips and slowly eased it between them. At first, his seemed a bit apprehensive about what my tongue was doing. I thought for a moment he was going to stumble backward off the porch, but his apprehension faded fast and I soon tasted his delicious tongue gingerly slipping between my waiting lips. I wanted to applaud his performance; his virgin tongue danced a romantic ballet in my mouth that made any major ballet company performance seem like a hoedown. Was the teacher now being taught, I wondered? Either he really knew what he was doing or he was eager for his tongue to experience everything it possibly could in the next sixty seconds because it sought out every detail of the interior of my mouth, all at once. Such a hungry kiss I had never known. I felt his arms tighten around my waist and my feet leave the porch as he stood up straight and carried me, still sucking on his delicious tongue, into the house. My legs slowly wound around his hips as he carried me. The next thing I realized we were laid back across his bed and I was on top of him, with my skirt and petticoat wrapped up around my hips and my legs still wound around him. Even through my bunched up petticoat and skirt, and his pants, I could feel his hardness pressing and growing against me. Finally our need for oxygen forced our wonderful kiss to end. I slowly sat up, straddling his hips with my legs folded back under me and my palms against his massive chest. Gasping for breath, the only word I could force out of my mouth was "Wow!" He looked up at me with the sweetest, most innocent smile I had even seen. "Did I do it right?" he asked in earnest. I sat there a few moments unbuttoning his shirt and opening it up. I looked at his handsome face and grinned. "You learn fast. That was wonderful, but I think we better keep practicing for a while," I replied hoarsely, still trying to get my breath back as I pulled my undergarments the rest of the way down to my waist, fully exposing my breasts to him for the first time. He only had a moment to enjoy the view before I lay back down on top of him and pressed them against his powerful chest and eagerly teased his tongue back into my mouth. He gasped a little when I squirmed and pressed myself hard against his swollen manhood. I finally broke the kiss and raised up far enough for his hands to find their way to my breasts. It didn't take him long to figure out he could make me gasp and squirm against him more just by pinching my hard nipples. "You sure you wouldn't rather go to town tonight?" I teased, squirming against him a little more. "I don't think I'll ever wanna go to town again, there's too much to do out here," he mumbled, still kneading my breasts. I leaned forward so one of my throbbing nipples was only an inch or so from his lips. He just stared at it for a few moments and slid his tongue over his lips. "Am I supposed to…?" he started to ask. "I cut his words short. "You're supposed to do whatever you want to do, whatever your heart tells you to do, whatever your desires command you to do," I whispered. His timid tongue eased its way slowly out of his mouth like a young rabbit easing its way out of its burrow for the very first time. It was like he didn't know what to expect next or maybe he just wasn't sure exactly what he was supposed to do next. It didn't take him long to figure out that he liked the taste and the feel of my nipples in his mouth, because in a matter of seconds his tongue and my swollen nipples were locked in what seemed like mortal battle. His tongue was all over my breasts and he was simply tormenting my sensitive nipples. When I pressed my breast tight against his lips, he eagerly sucked my enraged nipple as far as possible into his searing mouth. There for a minute I thought he was gonna swallow it. I could feel his excitement starting to mount; his hips were starting to involuntarily move up and down slightly in response to the new sensations in his groin. I have to admit, my hips were doing a little moving too, in response to some long absent sensations of my own. Things were beginning to get pretty wet down there for me as a matter of fact. This young, well-built lad had reawakened my lonely body and he had no clue what he had just done. I had always been an extremely sensual woman to my husband. But he was now long gone and sorely missed, and so was my ability to control my passions any longer. Young Marcus had no idea what great, new and wonderful, pleasures awaited him on that night of his eighteenth birthday. A Boy No Longer Ch. 4 Marcus slept peacefully for several hours. I took advantage of the time to take a warm, relaxing bath; I wanted to be fresh and clean for Marcus that evening. Lying in the tub, wonderful visions of events earlier that afternoon rushed through my mind. With the delicious taste of Marcus still tantalizing my tastebuds, sensual visions of events to come, drifted through my head like the slowly turned well-worn pages of a favored old picture book. The list of pleasures I had planned for Marcus that evening continued to grow. I admit, several of the things on the list were for my pleasure too. I mean, hell, I intended to receive a bit of pleasure out of this deal too. My mind returned to the splendid taste still lingering on my tongue. I lay there relaxing, savoring, and enjoying. My hand had worked its way down between my thighs, one finger slowly circled my growing clitoris. I slid my other hand down to join the first and gently inserted my middle finger inside. The sensation was absolutely marvelous. My eyes closed, my head fell back, and a low moan escaped me as the first tremors of ecstasy began ricocheting through my being. "Oh my God! I'm sorry!" Marcus' startled voice rang out from behind me as he rushed back into the house. "Don't worry about it, Honey. You don't have anything to be sorry about," I reassured him. "Come on back out here." The young man slowly stepped back out, but stopped just outside the door. He stood with his back toward me. "I didn't mean to interrupt your bath. I didn't know you were bathing. I didn't know you were out here," he apologized again. "Marcus, with all the wonderful things we've experienced together today, do you think I have any problem with you seeing me in the tub?" "Well, I guess not, but I didn't mean to catch you in ah, ah, a private moment," he stammered. "I don't need any private moments from you. I want us to share everything," I explained. "I'll be back in a minute," he said, stepping off the porch and rushing down the path toward the outhouse. The dressing gown he was wearing flapped in the breeze as he hurried along. I could see he was naked under it. A few minutes later he returned; his dressing gown was pulled shut and tied at the waist. "Whew, I feel much better now. That's why I woke up, I had to pee so bad my eyeballs were floating," he said. "I'm gonna go put on some clothes. I'll be back in a few minutes." "You don't need to get dressed, you look just yummy the way you are," I replied. He kept looking away from the bathtub. I couldn't figure out if seeing me bathing was making him nervous or if he was afraid he was embarrassing me. I figured I would let him off the hook for a while. "Why don't you toss a couple more pieces of wood in the stove. I'll get out of the tub and you can talk to me while I fix some supper," I suggested. "Okay," he replied and disappeared into the house. I settled down into the tub to relax for a few minutes after I heard the iron door open on the old kitchen stove and Marcus putting several pieces of wood on the low fire. After I heard the door close, I looked at the back window out of the corner of my eye; sure enough, I could just barely see Marcus trying to watch me through the window. Nasty boy. I loved it. I took my time toweling off, making sure I gave him a good view of the entire process. I slipped my dressing gown on and found Marcus sitting at the kitchen table when I went inside. # Picking up my apron, I slipped it over my neck and started to tie it around my waist. Just before trying it, I decided to really give Marcus something to think about. I pulled my dressing gown off over my shoulders and tossed it over one of the kitchen chairs. I tied the ruffle-edged apron around my naked waist and started getting things together for supper. Marcus couldn't take is eyes off me as I paraded around the kitchen wearing nothing but my apron. The top of the apron was loose enough to give him a good view of my breasts every time I leaned over or turned quickly. Even if he didn't like the meal I was making, he was damn sure enjoying the preparation of it. I wasn't too worried about him liking the meal either; I was making his favorite; pork chops, mashed potatoes, and gravy. I giggled to myself when something crossed my silly mind, pork chops and puss… Well, never mind, I thought it was funny. Every time I leaned over the table I would fell his strong hand caress my naked behind. I glanced down at his lap; it was obvious he was enjoying the little show I was putting on for him. I wanted so desperately to sit astraddle his legs and feel his large manhood slide deep inside me, but I fought the urge with every ounce of willpower I possessed. I wanted to wait until I took him to bed later. I wanted his first time inside a woman to be very special, very right, and not rushed or interrupted with any distractions like having to get up to tend to cooking supper. Later that evening, I would give him his chance. I would introduce him to the wonderful joys of intercourse and all its many sensual pleasures. That night, we would make love; we would make love all night long. Marcus didn't know it yet, but he was in for the longest, night of his young life. # I finally managed to get supper on the table, which really hadn't been an easy matter. Marcus seemed to have been having a problem keeping his hands off me. I think the fact I was wearing nothing but a small apron might have been partially responsible for that, but I had also had a very difficult time keeping my mind on anything other than the large lump in the front of his dressing gown. I sat next to him while we ate because our old wooden kitchen table was just too damn large and if I had sat across from him as I normally did, I would have simply been to far away from his gorgeous body. It took quite a while to finish supper because we both had trouble keeping our hands to ourselves. By the time we had finally finished eating, we were both hotter than four freaked-out foxes fuckin' in a forest fire. The little birthday cake I had baked the day before for Marcus got its candles lit and blown out, but I was the only sweet he was interested in at the moment. The cake would just have to wait another day to be enjoyed. It didn't take long to get the leftovers properly stored and the dishes in the sink. Marcus helped, which was something very unusual for him; kitchen work was woman's work to him. For some odd reason, he seemed to be in a big hurry for me to get finished in the kitchen. I wonder what he had on his little mind, probably the same thing I did, . When I finished the last of the kitchen chores, he reached around behind me, untied my apron, pulled the loop over my head, took his own sweet time folding it, and placed it neatly on the counter while I stood watching and waiting. Suddenly, he swept me from the floor and up into his powerful arms like a new bride and rushed me off to his bedroom. After he carried me into his room, I said, "No, not this bedroom. Tonight you become the master of the house. We will sleep in the master bedroom and we will make in the master bedroom. From now on, we will the master bedroom." A big smile filled his handsome face as he transported me to bed in the master bedroom. He gently laid me on the bed and stepped back while I slid under the covers. After he removed his dressing gown, he slipped in beside me. His excitement was quite evident. # Marcus lying beside me and holding me tight in his arms was one of the most wonderful feelings I had experienced in many years. The curves of my body fit against the hard, rippling muscles of his body like two pieces of a puzzle. His mouth covered mine with what had to be the kiss of the century. It was a long, deeply searching, breath-taking, and desperately passionate kiss. By the time our lips parted, my body was aglow with desire. His patience and gentleness took me by surprise. I had expected on his first night that he would be awkward, rough, and impatient. But instead, he was treating me with the tenderness of a man with many years experience pleasing his woman. I decided it was time to let him be the aggressor, time to do things his way. I lay there enjoying his endless caresses and kisses, making no offer to show him the way. This was going to be his night of true discovery. His desire finally took control of him. He knew what he wanted and how to get it. He gingerly eased himself on top of me and between my legs. I let him fumble around a bit before I reached down and guided him to the target of his desires. In one slow, steady stroke, he buried himself deep inside me. I had never known such fullness, that was until he took my breath with his second stroke which drove his large manhood all the way home. After that, he wasted no time with any further gentleness. He drove it to me hard and fast. I also wasted no time. In a matter of seconds, the first waves of orgasm started dancing through me. It had been so long, I had almost forgotten how wonderful a loving man could make me feel. Heaven knew I needed it. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through me, each building on the one before. He settled into a steady rhythm and was driving me crazy. How he managed to stay at that steady pace, I don't know, I could feel the tension, the desire, the need, all building within him. But he simply refused to be rushed any more than he already was. His body began to tremble, his breathing stopped. His body went completely rigid as he drove himself one last stroke, as hard and as far into my wet womanhood as possible. Believe me when I tell you, he really hit pay dirt. That last stroke and the feel of the first gush of his hot juices blasting so deep into my very center, sent me over the dam. Each time his hardness jerked deep within me, my soaring womanhood would convulse and contract tight around him, causing another hot gush to fly from him. We lay there, holding each other tight, his manhood blasting away so very deep inside me and my hungry womanhood milking him for more, and each time, he was only to pleased to provide me with another sweet pulse. Slowly we floated back to reality, but the pumping and the milking continued for longer than I could every remember it lasting before. I had to fight to get my breath back, Marcus had driven it completely out of me. I felt the weight of his massive body beginning to settle down on top of me. His huge arms carefully encircled me to protect me from his weight, his manhood still deep and hard within me. My legs were wrapped around his narrow hips. I didn't remember wrapping them around him, but they were nonetheless. He kissed me softly, then kissed my chin, working down to my neck and around to my ear. He whispered, "I think I've had enough practice. Now it's time to do it for real." He raised his weight off of me and his rhythmic hips started their wonderful motion again. I had forgotten the stamina of a young man and Marcus seemed to have more than enough of that for me. Apparently, it was who was in for the , night of my life. Somewhere in the wee hours of the morning, I lost count of the number of fantastic orgasms he sent me into and the number of times I had felt his wonderful hot juices pumping inside me. At that point, I nor my body any longer cared. When I awoke late the next morning, Marcus was still on top of me, turned slightly to one side, his head on a pillow, a smile on his handsome face, and his hard manhood still buried deep inside me. Very gently, ever-so slightly, I started moving my hips up and down. I wanted to bring him off one more time without waking him up until the last seconds before ecstasy, but his eyes popped open and a grin spread across his face. Please that a moment to vote on this story. Votes are the only way the writers have of knowing what you, the reader, wishes to read.