Vika stands quivering before me, the goosebumps covering her body sticking out against her supple skin. I look her up and down, noting the smooth pale skin usually covered by her swimsuit. She is naked, and more than a little anxious. Her excuse that she not wants, but needs my opinion on just what the hell is going on with her body has taken her to this point, with no major objections from me. She has with an anxious look on her pretty face, not quite alarmed, but nervous nonetheless. I take my time studying her, knowing that this is what she wants, despite her discomfort. I put my hands on her shoulders and slowly turn her around. Starting at the top of her head I take in every inch of her body.
Her long brown hair is sun lightened from the hours she spends in her outdoor pool cavorting with friends, or at the beach behind my home, which is where I first met her. That day was one we will both always remember. Her parents have forbidden her to swim by herself, either in the family pool and particularly in the ocean. She considers herself part fish, and it’s become harder and harder for her to obey this rule as she grows older, especially when a swell is running. She is a surfer, and the pull of the waves were too much for her to resist that day.
Her body is in that lovely stage where late adolescence and womanhood collide; breasts filling but not yet quite completely developed; hips widening with the flare which announce her ability to bear children, yet still narrowed somewhat and incomplete. The hair which sprouts on her body is uniform in its texture — a golden silk which is almost invisible until backlit. Around her pussy and under her arms the hair is sparse indeed, confirming to me that Vika, like many northern Europeans has been slow to develop and mature, unlike those from more tropical climes.
“She may be in her late teens and legal”, I tell myself, “but her body almost makes me feel guilty over my feelings of arousal, thanks to the strictures of modern society which are arbitrary indeed. We can allow the most grotesque deeds of violence and moral decay shown on television, but for a man to find the virginal purity of a young woman satisfying makes him a lecherous criminal. It’s absurd, ambiguous and morally contrary”.
I myself was a late bloomer, and now I attribute my youthful looks to that fact. I will admit that I had my moments of embarrassment as a swimmer, where in the tiny “tank” suits no secrets of anatomy can be hidden. More than once I was razzed for my lack of hair in my pits and around my crotch. I was eighteen, in my first year of college when nature finally kicked in, going into overdrive as I grew seven inches, developed a larger than average cock (which finally was in scale to my huge feet, keeping that old adage a truth), and grew hair, however sparse and fine, in all the appropriate regions.
I have just related all this to Vika, who was at first embarrassed by her own physical immaturity, until I reassured her that besides being a sign of a higher evolutionary state, she looks just fine to me. Which she does.
Somehow in these few weeks since her near drowning I have become her best friend, confidant, and now I’m not sure what. I never expected her to disrobe before me so I could offer an opinion on how she looks. But here I am, doing what she has asked, which is to give an honest evaluation of her young body. And to think I could be out on my terrace working on the book right now!
She reaches up and pinches her nipples, making them hard. Her breast buds are perky, and though it’s apparent that while she’ll never be “stacked”, she will have a very pretty pair of breasts.
“Look, Derek,” she says in a laughing tone, “my nips poke out like erasers when I do this! They stick out even farther when I’m cold.”
I turned her back around by her shoulders so I could see. She gives them another pinch, pulling them away from her chest as if willing them to grow.
“What about when you’re aroused, Vika?” I ask in the tone of a disinterested party. “Do they poke out through your bra so the boys can see them through your shirt?”
She blushes furiously and looks at the floor. “I haven’t started wearing a bra yet,” she confides. I usually wear T shirts. You know, the surf chick look….,” she adds quickly, proud of her sport. “If my nips start to protrude I just hold my books up to hide them, or bend so my shirt hangs loose.”
“But you do get aroused?” I continue, taking her nakedness as a sign of more than mere curiosity. I slide my hands down her sides, gripping her pelvic girdle for a moment before letting them continue to drop along the outsides of her thighs. Once below her butt cheeks, which as I noted earlier are her most maturely developed feature — round and firm and shapely and very nice to cup in the palms of my hands— I use my fingers to urge her knees away from each other, spreading her legs so they are shoulder width apart. She can’t be more than five kızılay escort feet-two inches and weigh less than a hundred pounds. A tiny thing. Her legs are shapely, having just lost that skinny look to the more appealing roundness of the upper thigh leading to those nice hips and ass I told you about.
She blushes again and says nothing. Now I take my right hand and run it up the inside of her right leg, beginning at her knee and continuing until my index finger is pressed against her vulva. I wedge it between her labia majora, spreading her outer lips and exposing her inner ones which due to her sexual immaturity remain hidden from view. She looks at me with a shocked expression but remains still. I can’t tell if she’s excited or alarmed by my actions. I decide to find out, so I scoot the chair where I’m sitting closer and then use my thumbs to open her up. Her knees begin to buckle, and I catch her before she falls, pulling her into my lap so that she’s now sitting on my left thigh, her legs crossing over my right. She is leaning back into my chest, and with my left hand I hold her under her arm, my first and second fingers scissoring her left nipple. My right hand is back between her legs, coaxing them apart and then opening her again. She looks up at me with her mouth open in surprise and her eyes wide in astonishment. Her breathing is coming in little huffs, shallow and fast.
I rub my middle finger across her little cunny, and feel her wetness lubricate it.
“Yes, you do get aroused,” I whisper in her ear, nuzzling her long hair away from her ear and neck as I begin kissing her. My left hand is gently tweaking her nipple, and occasionally pinching and pulling it as she had done. Her juices really begin to flow now, and I pick her up and carry her from the kitchen into my bedroom. She lies back in my arms, still wearing that look of innocent surprise as she stares up at me.
Vika glances quickly around my darkened room, seeing that I live a luxurious life by my belongings, and a tidy one, since the room is straight and the bed is made. I kick the covers down with one foot as I continue to hold her, the low hum of the air conditioner and her breathing the only sounds in the room. I lay her gently down and stand over her. She reaches up and takes my left hand, pulling me down. She sits up a bit so we are face to face and looks pointedly at my mouth, urging me to kiss her. Within seconds I can tell it’s her first. She’s clumsy, her lips tight and her jaw clenched. I ease myself down alongside her on the big bed, scooting her over to make more room. I take a moment to pull the covers further back, preferring the smooth Egyptian cotton sheets over the feel of the comforter. I pull my shirt off, with her helping to get it over my head. She stares at my muscular torso, then gathers the courage to run her own hand across my chest and belly, zig- zagging her fingers across my washboard abs.
“You don’t have much hair either,” she giggles, looking up at me as I kneel over her.
I drop back alongside her and begin kissing her again. She reacts to the variances in pressure I apply, slowly using my tongue to work her jaw loose and to open her mouth. Once my tongue is inside her mouth she finally lets go and becomes what I can only refer to as a “natural kisser”, meaning that she has gotten the hang of it without any contrived techniques like sucking tongue. I go from delicate teasing, pulling back so only the tip of my tongue is licking the outsides of her lips, to a full face press, the heat pouring off both our bodies as we give ourselves over to the passion of the moment. I begin pressing my now erect cock against her thigh, the thick material of my sweatpants hardly a disguise for my obvious arousal. One of my hands is caressing her pussy, playing with her lips and thumbing her clitty, but I have yet to penetrate her vaginal opening. In fact, I’m thinking about saving penetration for a later date, and making today’s lesson for little Vika all about passionate foreplay.
I take her hand and guide it to the bulge in my pants, rolling over onto my side while still playing with her coochie. Her face is flushed, and so is her vulva, the blood engorging her so fully that the inner lips of her pussy are now poking out. I thumb back the hood of her clitoris and rub along either side of this most sensitive of spots on a woman. She begins to moan, clenching my cock in her small fist, but I’m pretty sure she’s so totally engrossed with what I’m doing that she hasn’t even considered that her hand is around my dick. I begin sucking and nibbling on her nipples, one to the other and back while continuing my ministration to her cunt. She has released hold of the python and is now clawing at the sheets, her knees reflexively pulled up so her feet are flat on the bed as I continue to masturbate her. Her breathing is now coming in ragged gasps and her erect clit button looks like a little man standing in a kolej escort boat. I watch her face for clues to what she wants me to do, her eyelids fluttering of their own volition. Suddenly they fly wide open and she holds her breath for a long moment, exhaling in hard thrusts as her orgasm approaches. Her little puss is fully juiced up now, and I’m working it over like a madman, using the two finger split around her clit and over her lips like I’m trying to start a fire. Her head begins rolling side to side, her face a grimace of pleasure, surprise, and exquisite agony as the big moment for her approaches. She begins crying out in moans which grow in volume until they end in one long keening wail that announces the arrival of Big Mr. O. I keep up the pace until I feel her begin to relax, slowing at the same rate as her muscles decompress. My hand is soaking wet and I bring it to my face and lick some of her juices off, then move it to hers for her to do the same. She wears a look of consternation when I do this, unsure that she wants to taste herself, but I smile and nod my encouragement. She tastes sweet, and after a few tentative licks with the tip of her tongue she smiles up at me. I run the tip of my index finger around her mouth, then slowly push it between her lips, letting it slide past her teeth. She begins sucking on it as a baby would a pacifier, her cheeks indenting and her eyes closing to half slits of contentment.
“How old are you, Vika,” I ask.
She doesn’t answer as she sits up, looking almost embarrassed by what has just happened. The echo from her scream still resounds in my ears as I’m sure it does her own. I wrap her in my arms and kiss her tenderly, letting her know that things went just the way I hoped they would. She lets herself fall back, taking me with her as she does. Her hand slowly moves down my back and over my ass, then back up as she begins exploring the area around the waistband of my warm-ups. Somehow they’ve loosened, and she edges her fingers under the material, then her whole hands. I flex my butt cheeks which causes her to giggle as she gropes them. I know these are all new experiences for her, so there’s no need to hurry her along. If we don’t get around to pleasuring me today, no big deal. It won’t be the first time I’ve been blue-balled by a chick, and to force Vika into something she’s not yet ready for will only fuck up her head.
But to my surprise she retracts one of her hands and uses it to shove me over onto my back. With a mischievous gleam in her eye, with maybe a tinge of trepidation thrown in, she starts tracing little circles around my belly button, intentionally allowing the back of her hand to brush against my erection which is trying it’s damndest to find daylight. I mean, the head is right there, but still hidden beneath the material of my sweats. Her hair tickles my chest and face as she leans over to watch what she’s doing. I take her other hand and place it on my chest, urging her to squeeze my nipples, to claw my pectorals, to arouse me with tactile persuasion the way I had her. The head of Mr. Johnson is visible now, the fabric stretched so tight that I have whatever the opposite to a camel-toe would be called. An obvious boner comes to mind. A big one.
Gently, Vika hooks a finger under the upper edge of my pants and gives them a lift, staring intently at what is lying there underneath. I flex my cock muscle and made my wood spring up like a Marine doing pushups. Vika looked up at me with an expression of awe on her lovely face.
“Can I see it?” she asks in an almost worshipful tone. “All of it?”
“You mean you want me to get naked?” I ask, acting extremely shy, raising my shoulders and looking away from her. “Gee, I don’t know…. I don’t think I’m s’posed to do that. My mom would kill me if she ever found out,” I add uncertainly.
I’m trying to get Vika to take control of the situation once again, just as she had when she pulled off her shirt, shorts and panties in my kitchen an hour or so ago under the pretense of my giving her a “progress evaluation”, as she had put it.
She takes the bait and reaches under my pants and grabs hold of my schlong. “Listen here, buddy,” she says in a stern tone, “you just got to play with me, so now it’s my turn to play with you!”
“Well…. I guess so, but only if you promise you won’t tell!” I insist, keeping to my play-acting.
I want to narrow the age difference between us on a subconscious level for Vika, pretending I am much, much younger than my twenty-nine years. She is eighteen, I reminded myself. Her mother told me at the hospital the day Vika almost drowned.
“Go ahead and pull them off me, if that’s what you want,” I say half-heartedly. I raise my ass off the bed so she can shuck them down. Soon I am as naked as she, with my hard-on raging and pulsing across my belly like a snake about to strike a mouse.
“Wow, Derek, you’re beautiful,” Vika breathes as she maltepe escort gazes at me from head to toe.
I have the broad shoulders of a swimmer, the flat stomach and the narrow waist. My muscles are not the bunched up knots of a bodybuilder, but long and supple. I still swim everyday, and train at the dojo three times a week. Plus I’ve been into Yoga since I first began swimming competitively at age ten. A late start for kids these days. Between swimming, yoga and Aikido, it’s a wonder I ever got any classwork done. Come to think of it, I think I graduated only because the teachers at each level were happy to see me go. I was kind of a smart ass, with a pretty agile mind and a razor sharp tongue.
Now I use those gifts as a writer. Mostly screenplays and lightweight fare for television, but it’s paid off handsomely. Thanks to modern electronics I can work from my home, have my checks direct deposited, shop on-line, teleconference and all that other email stuff so I only have to go to New York or Los Angeles five or six times a year. As long as I keep writing good material that turn into hits, I’ll stay right where I’m at. If it all ends tomorrow, I’ll do something else. But God I hope it never ends!
My little girlfriend is still looking me over, and has focused on my neatly trimmed pubes. I keep them cut short, and I shave a nice perimeter around the base of the woodster because I’ve never had anything but favorable reviews for doing it that way by my girlfriends. I’ve been circumcised, and am damn glad of it. The look of an uncut willy is just too weird in my opinion, even if that is the way we are born. Vika puts her hand around the base of my cock and lifts it off my belly so that it’s pointing toward the ceiling.
“Holy shit, Derek, this thing’s big!” she exclaims.
Her finger and thumb aren’t touching around the circumference and it would take four of her hands to equal its length. She’s barely five feet tall, if even that, so the comparison between her scale and mine is quite different. And like I said, I had a good growth spurt when I was eighteen.
“I’ve sneaked peeks at both my brothers’ ding-dongs when they were coming out of the shower, and theirs aren’t near as big as this,” she confides in a tone of wonder.
I can tell it excites her. Her nipples have become erect again and her cheeks are flushed with blood. I smile up at her and place my hand over hers and begin moving it up and down, showing her the first stage of cock stroking. I watch as she smiles when I expand the head of my cock by squeezing in more blood by tightening the muscles deep in my pelvis. I’ve been doing Kegel exercises for years, and through them I can really control not only how long I last before I climax, but the power of the ejaculation. I tell her to grip the base of my cock just as hard as she can once I’ve pumped up the glans and corpus cavernosum, or the head of my big ole pecker. She holds it tight and watches in amazement as veins along the side begin to bulge and the head turns an inspiring shade of purple.
She asks if it hurts, and I respond “Only too good, sweetheart,” which makes her blush again.
She begins stroking it again, and I show her where my special spot just under the helmet on the back side is. On her own she begins playing with my balls, and I warn her that she can be as rough with my cock as she likes, in fact the rougher the better, but to be careful with my nads, especially any motions which push them upward in the scrotum.
“So is this how you jerk off, Derek?” she giggles, her little hand going up and down my rigid pole at a pretty good clip.
“I don’t do it very often,” I confide. “It’s not as good as the real thing, and I’d rather save the energy for other activities.” I was telling the truth here. Without trying to brag, I get laid just about as often as I like, what with having a steady girlfriend or two most of the time.
“Oh,” she says, sounding a bit disappointed. “You mean this doesn’t make you feel good?” I can tell she wants to please me, but doesn’t have much of an idea how to do it. Then she brightens and suggests, “How ’bout if I give you a blowjob? Will you show me how to do that?”
“Do you know what a blowjob is, Vika?” I ask, wondering if she’s only repeating a word she’s heard.
“Kinda sorta, I guess,” she nods. “It’s where I put your thingy in my mouth and after a little while you shoot your load.”
“Yup,” I agree, “that’s a blowjob all right. Do you want me to coach you on how to do it, or do you want to try to figure it out on your own?” I’m sitting up now, my back against the headboard. Her little body is turned toward me with her legs tucked underneath her, her long hair covering her breasts.
“Um, I’d like for you to tell me how you like it, if that’s OK?” she confesses. “I don’t really know what to do….”
“Cool,” I reply, thinking that this day just keeps getting better and better. “Why don’t you find something to tie your hair back with, sweetie, that way you won’t be fighting it and so I can watch what you’re doing. Something to remember about us guys is we are really visually oriented. That’s why we like tittie bars, nudie magazines, porn sites and watching pretty girls suck our dicks.”