Loading...Joseph Roswell was an ordinary boy. He wasn’t a jock, the valedictorian, or the cool kid who had the best parties after the football game. He had wanted to be an astronaut or a millionaire or a famous singer when he was little, but he would never be those things.
Life wasn’t cruel to him — just mundane. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to woo and screw a beautiful energetic and or better yet, a pathologically adventurous girl. Girls were a mystery he would never understand.
He wasn’t a total idiot about the fairer sex. He had his mother as an opposite sex influence. She was both popular and socially acceptable with her peers. It was a shame he was more like his father, shy uninteresting and verging on the edge of social suicidal boredom.
Some of the things life hands out can never be said no too, and other things — even dirty evil twisted things — might be fate or destiny. Joseph wasn’t looking for it so when fate found him and turned the mundane into Midas gold he didn’t understand what was going on. Fate played her meanest trick and slammed her fist inside his unimaginative brain, like a female welding a shovel smashing her chosen mate over the head to claim her rites.
It’s a challenge to find love in the endless monotony of living one’s life, but Joseph never knew he had choices. His choices may have been skewed according to some people’s sense or normalcy or the common lifestyle, but he knew his choices. His mother, and even his father couldn’t be blamed. It was just a choice. A simple catalytic choice. One that had to be made. His own eagerness may have been that catalyst, but the choice was his alone – to bear or live with or be a part of his choice, so he took the opportunity when life gave it to him. He chose to be happy instead of mundane.
It may have started earlier it may have been innate, but the first vivid memory of unique hardening desire was set in stone inside Joseph’s complex little mind the day he came home a week after his eighteenth birthday. His mother was the gentle one, a woman who could have fulfilled any boy’s desperate little boyish needs. A mother who gave attention and affection. A woman who gave him unconditional love – love to a point. Before that day it wasn’t a sexual love in form or deed, but rather emotional psychological mothering love, given from the great well that gentle souls possess but never allow others to fill for them.
He had decided to skip out of school early to get in a few more hours of World of Warcraft, or WOW as he and his online playing buddies dubbed the fantasy role playing game. It was the day he found out his mother’s indiscretions. The day his mother changed his cognitive perception of life forever. It wasn’t a nightmarish dream or an angry path to discord between mother and son, it was — just a catalyst. A catalyst that transformed tempered and evolved his capacity to find love in the oddest of places, even if that love would conventionally be deemed – well gross may be the term some may use.
He was sitting on the couch mesmerized by the large flat television screen, his ear plug/mini mic turned all the way up so he didn’t notice when her room door opened. He barely noticed when she walked across the room as nonchalant as a runway model changing backstage. But, when she crossed in front of his vision he couldn’t help following the nude female form glistening from the sweat of sex, her damp hair clinging to her forehead her chest still heaving from exertion, her breathing shallow with pants of quick air trying to find its balance and give her brain and heart a chance to calm again. Even if she was his mother, he had to admit she was – well … really fucking hot!
Her legs were unsteady and she exaggerated each step, a careful placement of toe which let foot settle as ankle holds the body up and legs steady the sway of hips. Her pussy was aquiver in her pubic bush, like a rabbit wiggling in the wheat. She looked — satisfied — would be the best word, and dripped with both post coitious white sperm and a clear feminine secretion that commingled and ran down her legs. The smell of spent lust filled the large room with its damp greedy scent.
Joseph had never seen his mother naked before and the sight caused happiness rather than despair. He was a normal hormonal teenager after all, but the beauty he found made him want, made him desire to seek answers, and would shape his mental streams of unconscious reality for the rest of his life. The dripping sex held him spellbound, and though his mother stopped and stared not believing her infidelity had been found out, Joseph didn’t run. He stared … mute, his mind a whirl of changing flashes, memorizing her look, her motion, her scent, until his mother’s petrified moment passed and she looked away heading quickly into the kitchen.
That’s when Joseph heard another noise – a grunt of shock, the deep utterance of a satisfied male. He wanted to believe it was his father, but knew that wasn’t happening, and when he turned to see who had made the noise, he was indeed shocked. His mouth dropped open with unbelief and the starting tremors of real fear crept into his heart.
The large tall muscular black man that stepped through his parent’s bedroom door wasn’t intimidating with the gruff disdain his father always showed, but his presence was a complete and utter difference, a new dimension of marital fidelity now twisted its thoughts and ideas into Joseph’s view of the world. The big black man huffed again expelling a heady masculine air, a satisfied air commanding his presence, making the world shape its weaves around him rather than gathering him in its folds to make him do its bidding.
“You must be, Joe,” the large black man said after a moment. “It’s nice to meet you. Your mother speaks highly of you, if you must know.”
Joseph could only nod. He closed his mouth with a snap, teeth finding teeth his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, his cock hard for some unknown reason. He bobbed his head looking from the black man’s face to his massive long cock, swollen and slick with his mother’s orgasm. “Yeah, same here,” he finally mumbled.
The large black man laughed knowing this wasn’t the truth, and finding Joseph unimportant followed his mother into the kitchen. They chatted for a few minutes their voices audible their conversation indiscernible, and then he walked past a silent young man who could hardly belief what he was witnessing.
The black man sauntered back into his parent’s bedroom, came out a few minutes latter dressed, and was out the front door in minutes. Joseph waited for his mother to explain.
When she finally came back into the living room she just gave him a serious calculating look. “I’ve talked it over with your father, honey. There isn’t anything else to be said.”
“Okay,” the young man mumbled. He couldn’t take his eyes off the come filled dripping hairy pussy of his mother.
“What are you staring at, Joe?” his mother asked.
“Nothing,” he blushed quickly tearing his eyes from her pussy to look her in the face.
She sighed and gave him a sad smile. “Love can be found in many ways, Joe. You must have known that your father and I haven’t been very happy these past few years.”
“Sure. I know, but I never expected to find out you were cheating on him.”
“It’s not cheating if you both agree to let the other seek love in other places. I needed this Joe, like a dry cracked stream bed needs the rain.”
Joseph felt his eyes travel down her body to lock on the unbelievably sexy sight of her pussy. The post sex liquid was evident and smeared in the tangled brier of her pubic hair, and instinctively his licked his lips.
She never told him why she did it. Maybe she wanted for him to understand better. Maybe she knew him better than he knew himself, but all the same she did place two fingers in her come filled sex, and coating them with her creampie offered the creamy delight for him to sample.
He hesitated before he took them in his mouth, and after he cleaned them was finally able to look her in the face again. “I’m sorry, mom.”
“Don’t be honey. I love you, and I want you to be happy. It tastes good doesn’t it?”
He nodded, not knowing what to say.
“I’ll try and be more modest from now on. Okay?”
“Okay,” he mumbled, and reddening into a deep embarrassment turned back to play his game.
With one final sad look his mother shook her head and went into her room. Joseph heard her shower turn on and finding his legs still worked sought his own room, a cave to figure out the reality he was now faced with. Not finding reason or answers, he opened his jeans pulled down his underwear and masturbated until he came in a sweaty post pubescent ball of guilt, daydreaming about the large black man’s massive cock furiously fucking his mother, her long slender white legs with curled pink painted toenails clinching, her mouth open uttering begging gasps as she received her black lover’s masculine domination of her sex.
His mother didn’t talk to him about what he’d witnessed, and he didn’t see the black man again. When his parents sought a divorce several months later, he chose to go live with his mother rather than stay with the brooding unforgiving and emotionally brutal father he’d been living with since birth.
The fresh start was great, and though they never discussed the scene Joseph had seen, his mother was as before, the gentle loving and emotionally available confidant he had always know. She was equally able to find her son’s faults dismissive, as well as sing his triumphs laudable, as any true loving adoring mother must.
He never saw his mother naked again, but his masturbation fantasies always included her with large black men fucking her furiously, the joy of post coital union he’d first scene when she exited her room was a memory he seared into his impressionable mind. The taste of sperm filled pussy was burned into his subconscious forever.
They moved to the small town of Willows, California. The weather helped his mother come to terms with her divorce. It was beautiful and lovely all year round. Their first night at their new home was enjoyable if quiet. His mother took him out for dinner and plied him with sweat talk explaining in giddy detail how wonderful life would be without an overbearing husband and father in the picture.
He loved his mother for her kind words and generosity. She showered him with gifts of new clothes, a computer that worked, and a room filled with the essential necessities a teenage boy gravely needed, but had been denied to him by his father. Life felt right. Life was full of hope, life would be alright in this new town, this new reality, this new chance to grow and be a real person.
Joseph took the move in stride, but was apprehensive about going to a new school as a senior. High school had been a mess for him in the large robotic schools Texas had built in the growing towns west of Houston, and though anonymity didn’t exist in a smaller school, he felt ready to deal with his young life. He found an untapped resource, a vengeance for independence, and rather than giving in to the inevitable fated loneliness as he’d previously displayed in Texas, he felt he could use this change in venue to his advantage and reinvent his high school persona. The fresh start for him and his mother was a new lease on life, a chance to make his name and find his place in the torrential world which is high school.
But, a geek or a nerd was always a geek or a nerd. When he found his every day life at school the dull indifferent place it had always been, he wanted to despair, until he found a mutually unhappy friend in Max Dixon.
They bonded as male teenagers will do; us against them, maybe we can survive and live through it, maybe we will finish college make a lot of money and marry the cheerleader we lust after. It was the rampant neglect way high school always inflicts on those who aren’t “in the clique”.
Twelfth grade began and the hormones and private masturbation fantasies Joseph secretly had shifted from his mother to the pretty girls he desperately wanted to fuck. One day he chose to give into his sexual need. He decided to give it a go, throw caution to the wind, and fix the unpopular stigma of virginity no matter what it took.
Again fate made her distant and mysterious existence known to him, she appeared as a beautiful petite nymphet – a goddess in the guise of the tragically infamous high school slut, Cynthia Whitaker. She was the girl the class voted ‘most likely to become a prostitute’.
Joseph told Max one day on the quad, while they were eating lunch and looking about to make sure the insolent stupid football jocks didn’t seek up and humiliate them again, that he had decided to lose his virginity. Max was silent for a moment taking his offhand comment at face value. Being a true friend he suggested he should help Joseph formulate a plan to solve his dilemma.
It took several lunch conversations, a few weeks of unsuccessful internet searching, and after what seemed an eternity but was really a matter of sifting through no way’s, are you fucking crazy’s, and Oh my God I fucking wish, Max suggested that Joseph ask Cynthia Whitaker out on a date and take care of the monumental “problem” a geek or nerd almost never conquered in high school, losing his virginity.
At first he didn’t like the idea of asking the class slut out on a date. After several heated and convoluted text messages his courage won over his thoughts of certain embarrassment, and Joesph conceded letting the rational steadfast belief Max used to convince him that if he wanted to get laid, Cynthia Whitaker would be his best bet, his only chance, the time was now or never, and if he didn’t get laid before homecoming he’d never have a chance after Christmas when prom was all any girl could think about. It was now with Cynthia or wait to find a willing drunk freshman in college. Max’s reasoning seemed sound, so Joseph took a deep breath found a solid nerve to stand on and went in search of his fate.
It took him another two days and the feeble hours during first second and third periods, throwing up and fending off questions with the school nurse, before he snapped out of his fear and found enough nerve to call her. He was very relieved when she said she would go out with him that Friday night. She told him she had something else she had to do earlier that night, but that Joseph should pick her up at her house at ten.
“So Max tells me you want to lose your virginity, is that right?” she asked.
“Max told you?”
“He’s not the coward I always pegged him as,” she laughed, “and I must admit once I took notice of you, I think you’re cute. We should have fun.”
“Yes, we should,” Joseph stammered, disbelieving his luck but trying hard not to fuck up the chance she was offering him, despite his cowardly behavior.
“See at ten on Friday, my sweet little virgin,” she said, and hung up.
Joseph called Max and told him the good news. His friend congratulated him for no longer being a sissy coward, and told him to do the deed in the backseat of his car like everyone else did.
“Just drive out to the old parking lot behind the baseball field and get her in the backseat and you’ll get laid.”
Joseph couldn’t believe what Max was telling him, but stomped on his inhibitions and strove to find a spine, after all Cynthia Whitaker had said yes. “You mean all I have to do is take her parking and I’ll get laid?”
“Yep, she knows what you want, so there’s no point wasting time going to the movies or taking her to dinner or anything boringly romantic like that. She’s meeting you at ten, must have a family commitment or something like that. Just take her out and fuck her.”
Joseph wasn’t sure about the idea of just taking her parking, but he was dumb and desperate like any virgin nerdy teenager. He didn’t want to complicate things too much. He decided to ask her what she wanted to do when she was in his car.
The week seemed to never end. Joseph let his fantasies roam free. He even dreamed about fucking her in the principle’s office with Mrs. Brown watching them greedily, the older woman’s sexy body sitting with her legs spread over her stuffed office chair, her ridged matronly skirt pulled up, panties pulled aside with her fingers furiously finger fucking her hairy old cunt. He came so hard he hit himself in the face after that one.
Friday finally arrived. Joseph was so excited he had to force his hands away from his cock every few minutes throughout the long laborious day. He kept telling his libido the shut the fuck up and not fuck up his first chance to have sex with a girl. But, a limp dick is hard to achieve when your eighteen, a noticeable hard-on followed him every where he want that day, and though he heard snickers behind his back and his face felt like it was on fire with embarrassment the whole agonizingly-second-counting day; he prevailed, stayed focused and even felt he’d done well on his chemistry exam, placing the test on Mr. Howitzer’s desk right before the bell rang for dismissal.
He drove home without crashing into anyone, took a shower, gulped down an early dinner, and searched through his closet for the best “first big date” look he could come up with. He paced, staying in his room and avoided his mother, counting the long drawn out minutes until his clock said nine-forty-five. He had just retied his shoes and was about to leave when his mother opened his door and gave him a look.
“What’s going on, honey?” she asked. “I’ve never seen you act like this.”
“I have a date,” he blurted, flushing red with his eagerness and having to confide in his mother about something so personal, but she smiled gave him a shrug and let him be, closing the door behind her. “It’s about time,” he heard her say under her breath.
Joseph’s nervous hands felt sweaty, the cold clammed feeling of uncertainty, when his Corolla found the curb in front of Cynthia Whitaker’s house one minute to ten. The lights were all out, and when he rang the doorbell no one answered. She wasn’t home. Fuck, I’m such a stupid idiot, he thought, racking his brain for an explanation.
Finding nothing better to do he sat in his car, miserable pathetic and close to tears, wondering why Cynthia Whitaker would stand him up. Hope wormed its serpentine head back into his heart when five minutes later a car pulled up behind him, and Cynthia’s smooth pale short nimble legs slipped out of the passenger seat. She drug her body out trailed by a boy who wouldn’t stop kissing her until she slammed his car door in his face. The car pulled away and Joseph stepped out of his car, as nervous as a new born calf. He walked around his car to meet her on the sidewalk.
She finally saw him standing there and said, “Great – you’re here. Well, I’m ready so let’s go.” Her irritation was present in waves, but Joseph took a deep breath, plunged into deep water, and opened the door for her to slip into his car. As he closed the door he looked to heaven, said a silent thank you, and ran around the car to get in before she could change her mind.
“Where would you like to go?” he asked once he’d slammed his door with too much eager force. His nervousness continued and he turned the ignition twice making the engine grind and the window wipers sweep none existence rain drops from the dry windshield before he got the car started. It made her laugh, and Joseph turned to look at her hoping the laugh was genuine rather than a slanted look of pathetic disdain, like most the girls at school gave him.
“Don’t you want to know who that was that just dropped me off?” Cynthia asked, looking at him with appraising eyes. She touched his hand making him jump. She really laughed then, but calmed quickly, her smile and the question still waiting for his answer.
Joseph could only shake his head no.
“Well that’s a good start. Okay then, Joseph, you start driving and I’ll give directions.” She took a lipstick from her purse and pulled the visor down to look in the mirror.
He decided not to speak and gunned the gas peddle to hard before the car lurched into first gear and headed down the street. He was hampered by several jerky shifts until he found control again found his breath again found his balls again. He looked over and saw his date, Cynthia Whitaker, smiling a devilishly eager smile filled with adventure rather than scorn. Hope still lived.
“I don’t want to go to the old parking lot behind the ball field,” Cynthia said, letting her smile fall to serious thought. She looked at her second date that night, sniffed to make sure he smelled clean, and flipped down the visor again to make sure her hair was arranged to her liking.
Joseph prayed his disappointment didn’t show when she finished and appraised him again. He sat silent driving where she directed until they reached to city limits and kept going. “Where are we going?” he asked, as the minutes took up miles and the city lights faded behind them.
She was serious now, staring at her virgin, eying him like a cat would a mouse. “You’ll see, Joseph. Have some patience will you.” She giggled enjoying the mystery, enjoying the way he squirmed. “I think I’ll like you, Joseph. Just try not to piss me off before the night ends. Okay?”
“What’s wrong with the parking lot?” he stammered, hoping questions didn’t constitute as pissing her off.
“Duh — don’t be stupid. The cops have been hanging around over there since school started. I know a place in the woods between here and Orland, where no one will bother us.”
His mind still whirled with apprehension. He couldn’t believe his luck. It was going to happen. Joseph Roswell the Virgin, was going to get laid and lose the sigma before graduating. What a fucking relief!
Cynthia guided him down and around fog covered back roads, and once she told him to pull over and park the car in a closed in tree covered turn off, she led him around the roped off trail past the “do not trespass” signs, and down the leafy wondering path that led though the woods. She allowed him to hold her hand as they walked and gave him an even bigger cat-eats-mouse grin, showing off her white even teeth.
They walked down the narrow path for over ten minutes, and came out of the woods on the north side of a large still moonlit lake. The round clearing held several trees between them and the small sandy beach that led into the water.
“The lake’s spring fed so the water stays fresh all year. We can swim another time if you like.”
“Another time?” asked Joseph.
She smiled again opened the large handbag she’d made him carry, and pulled a beach blanket out laying it out to cover and press down the tall grass that grew in the middle of the clearing. She sat down and patted the blanket next to her. Joseph sat next to her, but he didn’t know what to do next so he did nothing.”Aren’t you going to kiss me?” she asked.
He leaned forward and tried to give her a gentle kiss on the lips, but she wasn’t having anything to do with that and grabbed his head, kissing him hard. Her lips crushed his lips her tongue danced in his mouth – a siren call keened from her slim delicate throat, and within seconds Joseph had a raging hard-on that caused blood to race through his heart and a painful discomfort twitch in his pants. His cock felt more alive than ever before. It felt so fucking good, so fucking mammalian right. His rite, to demand the innate desire to take his place among the men before him, to find his inner masculine lust, and consume the offering a female partner offered her mate.
He pushed her back onto the blanket falling on her with hands and mouth taking their fill of her young fit body. His mind was ablaze with lust, a depraved need to reek havoc and force her full tender breasts and open willing pussy to meet his demands and give in to his dominating presence.
And, then she slapped him, knocking him off of her. She straddled his chest forcing his arms to the ground. Her sudden shift of control stupefied him. His lust broke like the young virginal reed it was, her will his gain, her body her choice, his need her decision, and at that moment Joseph remembered fear. Real fear spurred from the cat-eats-mouse grin that now spread across her luscious lips showing even white teeth in the moonlight.
“You’re the virgin, Joseph,” Cynthia said through clenched teeth. “You’re not the master. You got it?” She was defiantly pissed off. She kissed him biting his lower lip before breaking the second kiss of his young life.
“You understand your role here, don’t you, Joseph,” she smiled wickedly. “You’re my plaything, not the other way around, and if you don’t listen, behave, and act like a gentleman we can stop, go back to my house, and never speak again. Go it?”
Joseph nodded, embarrassed by his uncontrollable lust. He thought quickly, bit back his ego, and found the heart to be patient. He needed to get laid. He’d do anything she wanted to achieve that goal. “Yeah, I got it,” he whispered once he could breathe again. Cynthia slipped off his chest and sat beside him motioning him to do the same and face her on the blanket.
She slapped him again, and smiled licking her lips when he didn’t complain. It wasn’t a hard slap, more like a love tap rather than a domineering demand for subservience. “You really are a virgin, aren’t you, Joseph.”
It embarrassed him to hear her say it out loud. He wanted to lie, but she knew. He saw it in her stern look. She smiled again – the cat was getting into the forbidden cream.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, after a moment. “Just do what I tell you and we’ll both enjoy this.”
She started giving instructions. It made him a little uncomfortable, Cynthia telling him what to do, especially when he caught her cat-eyed look, but he wanted to please her, like a baby seal looking up with dreamy eyes before the poacher’s blade descends. He almost came in his pants when she grabbed his hair pulling him down to suck on her nipples through her shirt.
She had young small breasts, her nipples visible beneath the tight white blouse. She never wore a bra at school, always flaunting her sexuality, and Joseph found tonight was no different. He took her breasts in his hands and sucked her nipples through the shirt’s thin cotton fabric. She pushed him on his back after a few minutes, opened his pants, and pulled his cock out.
Cynthia stroked it a few times with her fist before taking his entire cock in her mouth; her tongue massaged his balls and the hypersensitive skin between them. He was in heaven. He recognized the new spirit in him that demanded attention in a desperate hedonistic way, but made sure he held it in check so she would continue. He knew from that moment he would do whatever Cynthia wanted her virgin to do.
When he couldn’t hold off any longer he started to twitch and moan like a baby begging for breast milk. She stopped and removed her skirt and panties – giving Joseph another cat-eats-mouse grin. “Now it’s your turn,” she said. “You have to eat me now. You need to strip first.”
Joseph wasn’t quite sure what she wanted, but when she pointed at her pussy he sat up took off his clothes watching with pounding heart as she lifted her shirt over her head and sprawled back on the blanket, resting on her elbows.
He’d heard from Max, that in fact girls really liked guys eating their pussies, but the thought of doing it never occurred to him as being – a necessity. All of his adolescent masturbatory fantasies involved ‘Joe the Man’ getting head or fucking a sweet pretty pussy. Max’s unflinching opinion had never given him a reason to think the tale was true, but when Cynthia pointed at her damp hairless pussy again and gave him that mesmerizing smile he couldn’t resist his natural tendency to be the man he wanted to be. Other than his mother’s, he had never seen a real pussy before. Like most guys his age he had been reduced to looking for the elusive feminine nude form online or in magazines. Those pictures didn’t explain what the hell he was supposed to do, but between Max’s voice in his head and his own need to make Cynthia happy, he figured he could do a passable job at least.
Joseph took a deep breath of false courage and waded into the unknown zone of the goddess known as Cynthia Whitaker. A little itch of doubt may have been present just before his mouth found her mound, fate may have been fucking with his mind, but he was about to get laid. Fuck it, he thought, after all it can’t hurt, can it? A few inches closer and he froze, just staring at her pussy.
It looked like a puffy mound of pink skinned tiger shrimp split and open, inviting the unwary traveler with its siren call. It was a temple made for worship. The mouthwatering ambrosia’s shinny smooth tantalizing lips shone silvery in the moonlight, a heavenly incense demanding the male penitent to find salvation inside its folds.
She was wet. Max had said that was a good thing. Fuck yeah!
When he didn’t move Cynthia sat up lifted his face and kissed him. Her sweet tender mouth calmed the blood pounding in his ears. “Just lick it, baby,” she whispered. “Then stick your tongue inside as far as you can and suck me.” She lay back on her elbows again, put her small hand behind his neck and pulled his hesitant dry mouth to her wet glistening pussy.
Joseph didn’t have a choice but to do her bidding. He did as Cynthia told him and began licking the outer mound of her pussy. He had heard other boys make jokes about pussy smelling like fish, but Cynthia’s didn’t. The first scent he noticed was strawberries, like his mom’s scented shampoo. There was also a damp scent like the ocean before dusk, and when he ran his tongue over her pussy it felt sticky. Juicy dripping memories of his mother walking naked and sated from the room where her black lover had fucked her to orgasm filled his thoughts, and when he slipped his tongue deep into her he found ambrosia, the nectar he remembered his mother’s pussy had tasted like, even though he knew this couldn’t be true.
Cynthia’s taste was strange and new, a little sweet a little bitter and somewhat salty. Joseph loved her taste, his fountain of lust found new direction and purpose, the need to please his lover overshadowing his need for fulfillment. It was goddess liquor, liquid heroin for the innocent soul, and he was addicted in seconds. Cynthia directed as he performed. She told Joseph what felt good and what didn’t. She stopped talking once he understood and laid all the way back to enjoy the boy’s tongue worshiping her sex. Her whole body stiffened and relaxed as she circled closer and closer to orgasm. She began to make little whimpering sounds and jerked his head by the hair away from her pussy as small orgasms began to overwhelm her, before putting her lover’s willing mouth back to its mission.
Whenever she came her pussy became even wetter, and after what seemed hours she screamed, one long drawn out body convulsing release.
Thank God we’re in the woods, Joseph thought.
Cynthia pulled his hair making him climb over her, once she regained her mind, her raw rasps of spent breath became a steady controlled pace, and she guided his cock into her wet hole helping him along with sweet tender kisses of support to get him into the right rhythm until he was fucking her with slow gentle strokes falling deeper and deeper into the well she provided for him.
His virginity taken, he only lasted a couple of minutes before he blasted his virginal climax into Cynthia’s pussy. She kissed him in congratulations, and huffing from exertion that shouldn’t have been there but was, he lay down beside her on the blanket, and relished the feeling of a girl playing with his soft cock.
“Did you like it?” she asked, as Joseph stared at the bright full moon overhead.
“It was great.”
“What was your favorite part?”
“I don’t know. I liked everything.”
“Did you like eating me?” she asked, moving her hand down to caress his balls and rub the sperm covering his matted hair into his skin.
“Yes.”
“Even the taste?”
“I don’t know. I guess it was okay.”
“You know you are the first guy to eat me out, Joe,” she said, seriously. “That makes you special. You like being special, right?”
“Wow, I didn’t think I’d be the first of anything for you.”
She laughed letting him go and raised her arms above her head chuckling at his innocence. Her breasts seemed to be bathing in the moonlight their pointed nipples seeking the night’s caress. “Oh you sweet innocent boy, I do love the way your open mind works.” She giggled again and rolled on her side so she could look at his flushed face and catch any thought that might betray her next question. “Do you want to know a secret, Joe?” she asked. Her voice became softer as if she were whispering nothings in a lover’s ear.
“Sure,” he gave her an eager smile.
“You’re the second guy I’ve had sex with tonight.”
It took him several seconds to figure out what she was getting at. “You mean …”
Cynthia bit his earlobe and kissed him again, whispering as soft and delicate as an angel, “It means that my pussy was full of his come when you ate me.”
Joseph felt ill.
“Does that bother you?” she asked when he didn’t respond.
“No!” he lied.
“Good,” she said, seeing the lie behind his eyes. “I think we will get along just fine.” The cat-stalks-mouse look gleamed in her eyes.
Joseph shivered. “So we’re,” he didn’t understand, “it’s like, you’re my girlfriend now?”
“No, silly, it means I hope we can do this again, she said distracted now. “You have a nice cock.”
She kissed her way down his chest and stomach to suck his stiffening cock back into her mouth. Her throat worked against the shaft, her tongue twisted and lashed like a dragon’s tail. Joseph shivered again accepting fate’s irony as Cynthia the high school slut began destroying the walls of his pride.
He let his thoughts drift into space and forgotten time, enjoying the sensations as Cynthia brought his cock back to life. When he was hard again she sat up, her ass in his face and squatted over his head lowering her pussy down until she was pressing her fresh fucked cunt to his mouth. Joseph knew that her pussy was full of come, his come. He didn’t want to eat her.
“Eat my pussy, Joe.” Cynthia demanded, “It’s good for you. It’ll help me like you.” Her siren call bent his will and Joseph could not resist or think of a reason to not fulfill her request.
He pushed his tongue up inside her pussy lips, feeling the slippery texture of come and pussy juice. He breathed in the fragrance of her goddess perfume, and washed his mouth with the river of sex flowing from the valley of her Venus – his milk her honey; it was truly divine. He had no choice but to swallow when the strain to breath felt hot and hollow in his chest. Cynthia stayed on top until his suckling brought her to orgasm. She sucked his cock until he came, taking all the sperm in her mouth.
She swallowed and said, “Now we’re even, baby. We’ve both eaten your come tonight.” She laughed, the tinkling sound crawling up Joseph’s back until it crystallized in his spine, melded with the spinal fluid it found there, and entered his subconscious through the brain stem to fold its withering memory with the dreams of his mother fucking her large black lover with the massive thick cock. Reality bites!
They dressed. Joseph folded up the blanket and followed Cynthia back to his car. She wanted to know if he would like her to teach him how to become a good lover, promising he would forever know how to please any women. Joseph was still so fired up by the evening’s events that he couldn’t stop his head from nodding yes over and over as her giddy giggles unmanned him. She laughed with requited joy and kissed him of the cheek.
“I’m serious, Joe, but I need to know if you’ll be committed to my needs as well,” she said. The cat-eats-mouse grin made her eyes sparkle. “I’ll be your teacher on one condition.”
“What’s that?” he sighed, knowing the edge of the pit of doom was beyond reach and he was spinning down into the depths of an unknown land of mystery and chaos.
“We can only date on nights when I have had sex with another guy. You have to eat my pussy like you did tonight. Then I’ll teach you to fuck me like a man, and we’ll be happy as peaches in a can.” She laughed.
“Can I think about it?” he shuddered.
“Sure,” she stopped, scrutinizing him with her cat’s eye glare, “just give me your decision after first period tomorrow. I’ll be on my way to gym.”
Joseph didn’t sleep much that night his mind tumbled between remembering flashes of joy and embarrassment and imagining what it would be like to date her again and again. She’d made it clear she didn’t want to be his girlfriend which made the decision even harder to make. Her proposition kept him hard all night, his dreams filled with images of his mother and Cynthia entertaining the large black man until they screamed for him to fuck them harder first one and then the other, the images flickering faster and faster until Joseph woke sweating grinding his teeth, a trickle of blood seeping from his lock-jawed mouth his come all over the sheets beneath him from the humping motions he’d unconsciously been having with his bed. Goddamn, I’ve been fucking my own bed, he thought. But, it felt good and drifting off into silent dreamless sleep he made a decision and decided to trust in fate. The morning sun brought clarity with light and peace but he didn’t change his mind.
He wrote her a note in first period, telling her he loved having sex with her, that he would love it if she would be his teacher, and that he accepted her condition.
For the rest of that school year, Cynthia would tell him when and where to pick her up. They went to the lake and made unique love. She loved swimming and Joseph found the clean dark waters a balm for his soul. He was in love with Cynthia, a rapture a man can give to a lovely goddess. His worship fed his heart, filled his mind with love, and consumed his soul with a burning fervent faith.
Their relationship evolved to a point where Cynthia allowed him to be with her in her bedroom. He thought for sure they would be boyfriend and girlfriend by then, but that hope was bleak and his pleas were ignored, leaving him despondent but resigned. He chose to live with the facts life had given him.
Every time they were together Joseph would eat her previous date’s come from her creamy filled pussy. She kept it messy and full of come just to make him do it, and though she laughed at him at first her own desires changed and a spark of trust and companionship developed between the lovers despite Cynthia’s determination to keep her heart separate from her sexuality.
“My goddess’s liquor,” he told her one day, and she became more adamant to make his worship become a permanent part of him, asking him to massage her body with oils, paint her fingernails and toenails, and brush her hair. She had him shave his pubic hair, and showed him how to trim or shave clean her delicate bush whenever the mood stuck her. Joseph found it very difficult to be away from her when she left for Christmas vacation, but she took up where they’d left off when she came back dating a different guy every night for two weeks until she was satisfied his love and devotion had not been tainted by the absence.
Cynthia honored her promise and taught Joseph how to please her. She always had a new lesson for him whenever they were together, and found his excitement invigorating. He found peace in the knowledge she possessed and knew in his heart that he was becoming a man, and that the sexual knowledge Cynthia Whitaker was imparting to him would last him a life time. It gave him a great deal of confidence, and the nerd-geek grew into manhood a self-assured and well schooled lover.
They had their first real fight the night before prom. Joseph wanted to take her, but she made it clear that would never happen. Her parents were away for the weekend so she compromised by tying him to her bed naked with her worn damp panties stuffed in his mouth.
Morning spring light was streaming through her eye-lit curtains when she finally arrived home. She gave him a tired smile untied him, sat on his face, and made him to eat all the come from her drench pussy, “I fucked three guys last night,” she whispered, before falling asleep in his arms.
Joseph spent a lot of time with Cynthia that summer, but in the fall he started college, and knew it would be four years before he saw his goddess again. Cynthia had decided to study abroad. She had a scholarship at the University of Milan, and Joseph’s mother had begged him to stay close so he applied and was accepted to UCLA.
“So this is goodbye?” he asked her the day she was scheduled to fly overseas.
“Not unless you’re willing to wait for me. Are you ready to quit?”
“I can’t get you out of my mind. I think I’m in love with you, Cynthia.”
“You love me, huh,” her smile made her mouth quirk to the side as she considered the position she was leaving him in. “Will you be faithful to me until I get back?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I want you to keep your dick in your pants. No other girls while I’m gone. So, no fraternity bashes or group parties. You study hard make great grades and become the computer science geek I need you to be. You stay faithful, and I’ll think about coming back.”
“I love you, Cynthia. Isn’t that enough?”
“No, my dear sweet Joseph,” she patted his cheek. “Love was never enough for me. I thought you would know that by now.” She frowned understanding he may finally see a different path, but when she looked in his sad tear filled eyes she found the want and need so furiously rampant behind his façade. Pure worship flowed from his aching hurt heart, and the pain of her departure consumed any doubt or despair. “I love you, Joseph,” she told him for the first time. “You are my faithful virgin, the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, but your heart and love, your worship and devotion are only a part of the needs my heart desires. Do you understand?”
“You love me?” he gasped, shocked by her revelation.
“Yes, I love you, Joe.” She kissed him then, a real kiss tender without passion. A peace that demanded not allegiance, but trust, and his heart gained mercy his mind found silence and the worshiping gentle soul Cynthia Whitaker had grown to love fell into her arms like Michelangelo’s haunting portrayal of the Madonna and her beloved son.
“You love me, my goddess,” he confessed his devotion, and buried his head between her breasts bathing them with his tears of joy. She held him to her breast looking over his head at the reflection of the first tears she’d shed since forever. Hot tears streamed down her pale wounded cheeks. The cat-stalks-mouse smile gone for now, and replaced by the need for her to reciprocate as much as possible. Cynthia wanted and needed now, to love her sweet valiant Joseph. She had been shown love over the past year, and now she’d made sure that love would not end.
“Good,” she finally said, pulling away from him wiping her eyes and walked into her bathroom. She shut the door so she could compose her face before she said her last goodbye.
The dress she wore flattered her figure, the deep neckline accenting the inner curves of her breasts. All those yummy Italian men will swoon, she thought. When she came back into the room she found Joseph sitting on her bed. “It’s time for me to go,” she said. She bent over took off her panties and placed the wet cotton, filled with her scent, in his warm smooth palms. She kissed him on the cheek. “Something to remember me by,” she smiled giving him the wicked smile that always made him melt. The cat had caught and eaten her mouse.
“Thank you, Cynthia.”
“My pleasure, baby,” she smirked, turned her back to him, and left him standing alone in her bedroom watching through the eye-lit curtains as she looked back once, gave him a sad smile and left in the cab to realize her own dreams.