Locksmiths
by Uther Pendragon
[email protected]


If you are under the age of 18, or otherwise forbidden by law to read electronically transmitted erotic material, please go do something else.

This material is Copyright, 19988, 2004, Uther Pendragon. All rights reserved. I specifically grant the right of downloading and keeping one electronic copy for your personal reading so long as this notice is included. Reposting requires previous permission.

If you have any comments or requests, please e-mail them to me at [email protected].

All persons here depicted, except public figures depicted as public figures in the background, are figments of my imagination and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.



Locksmiths
by Uther Pendragon
[email protected]


"Mother," Cheryl said. "Absolutely nobody in my class has to be home at eleven o'clock. Nobody!"

"That's not true, sweetheart," Lori said. "Cheryl has to be home at eleven."

"We could make it ten," Dan said. "That would make your statement true."

"DadDEEE!" Cheryl screeched.

"I'll tell you what," Lori said. "For every minute that you get home before eleven, Mark can stay here a minute later. We'll be in the bedroom."

"It's the Valentine's dance, it celebrates love and romance, and you want to count minutes."

Later, Dan explained the rules to Mark, who tried to sound responsible. Dan wasn't convinced, but -- at least -- Mark didn't screech at him.

"I don't know, Dan," Lori said. "Is even your own living room a safe place to allow your daughter and a boy to be alone together at night?"

"Night?" Dan thought. His first time, with Karen, had been in an open field on a summer morning. He could remember it as if it were yesterday.

They spread out the blanket he had got out of the trunk of the car and lay together. First, they kissed while his hands roamed all over her clothed body; soon, though, he removed her shirt and bra. "Her Breast," he quoted,

"(a place for beauty's throne most fit) 
Bears up two globes where love and pleasure sit, 
Which beaded with two rich round rubies show 
Like wanton rose buds growing out of snow."

He kissed each of Karen's 'rose buds,' to give her a clue.

"You didn't write that," she said.

"Not by some centuries. But I thought of you when I read it."

She tugged at his shirt, "It isn't fair. You're all dressed." Off came his t-shirt, and they rolled over with him on the bottom. They hugged like that for a minute, then she moved upward so he could kiss her breasts again. Her hand stole back to press against his swollen cock.

"And you talk about unfair," he said, although the touch had thrilled him. He reached down to caress her mound. "This is still unfair. You're all inside, and I stick out."

Her face got that enigmatic look that always would exemplify "woman" to him.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," she said. She rolled off.

He started towards her to do the unbuttoning. She was there before him, so he undid his own jeans instead. When he had pulled those over his tennis shoes, she was stark naked beside him.

"Tennies too," she said.

The thought struck him then that they might actually be going to do it.

But first she examined his cock without touching it. He couldn't resist touching her, however. And, after all, hers was all inside.

Not quite all, of course. The first thing he noticed was her mound and all the fine hair around it. Not until he would see Lori trim hers would he suspect that Karen's might have been trimmed. The hair led down between her legs, which Karen let him spread for a better view. Then the fat lips, with their own neat sprinkling of hair, opened enough to show the tiny, glistening red lips inside. They looked both delicate and angry to him then, an impossible combination. There was some sort of swelling at the top, which he didn't notice much.

When he spread the inner lips, however, they revealed a complexity at their juncture. The folds surrounded a central bud. His reading, although not nearly as much as kids got today, was enough to tell him that this was the mystical clitoris. The groove beneath it was moist and colored with subtle shades of pink and red.

Karen's entryway was evident, and evidently too small to take him. He kissed her mound. As he did so, he received his first full inhalation of a woman's scent of arousal, overlain with something floral.

"You can kiss lower," Karen said. He tried, but he took the word "kiss" too literally. After a minute, he kissed a path up her tummy back to her breasts. He kept his hand where it belonged, though. Once she pushed his finger off her clitoris and deeper into her groove. He took the hint and slowly swept his fingers up and down while her breath got shorter.

"Don't you want to do it for real?" he asked.

"It isn't safe."

"I have protection."

"You do?" she asked. That's when he truly believed that they would do it, and he would become a man. He had to stop everything he had been doing to pull the wallet out of his jeans, the packet out of the wallet, and then the rubber out of the foil. He rolled toward her, but she had other ideas. "Lie back," she said.

When he had, she straddled him. She took his rubber-covered cock in one hand and herself in the other. Then she fit them together and eased down over him and around him.

At some point he had realized that this was not her first time, but she was still marvelously tight around him. She pulled his hands back to her breasts before starting a luscious back-and-forth rocking over the place where they were joined.

He felt every motion of her body on his sensitive cock while he played with her lush breasts and hard nipples. She reached down between her legs while she was still moving, but she stopped still just when he was about to come. He pushed up with his hips to little avail.

Then she gasped. Her cunt clasped around his cock several times, drawing an intense, gushing, orgasm out of it. She fell on his chest, losing him in the process, and panted in his arms.

"I love you, Karen," he had said, not yet knowing what the word meant.

Dan took many risks with Karen after that, but they were never found out.

"No place is safe, nor any time," he said. "Do you remember your first time with Gary? Would your parents have suspected it?"

Actually, Lori always thought that her mother had a pretty good idea about her first time with Gary. Her father hadn't, because he would have done something heavy-handed about it, because he hadn't been home that night, and because he didn't notice much. But she'd been two hours late, after all.

Gary had been able to steal the keys to his family's summer cabin. It was nearly an hour's drive away, and they had ditched the entire dance to get time. The previous week, Gary had moved the other two kerosene heaters from his room and his sisters' room into his parents' room and made the double bed with newly- purchased sheets.

They stood kissing for the longest time before the chill room had warmed enough for them to undress. Then Gary had taken time to kiss her skin as he removed each article of clothing. Even then, the sheets had been icy. With three heaters blazing away, however, the two of them had soon generated enough heat under the down comforter.

Gary's hands were everywhere. He duplicated all of the steps of their previous petting. He brought her to panting eagerness before rolling the Trojan on, and then repeated the most intimate caresses while kneeling between her legs. Poised at the entrance, he kissed each of her breasts in turn before thrusting smoothly home.

Lori hadn't known that it could be like that. Gary kept most of his weight on his elbows, which were positioned so that his hands could reach her breasts.

He held those and caressed them while filling her completely. He tickled her nipples while stirring her with sideways motions of his hips. He finally turned them partly to their sides while his hand clasped her thigh with one finger reaching to just brush her clitoris.

Positioned like that, he tickled her while driving in and out. His finger, his cock, his evident ardor spiraled her to new heights of tension and desire. Then she had soared away into bliss. She returned to feel the last throbs within which told her that he had reached his own culmination before hers was finished.

Experiencing such care, such ecstasy, such mutuality, she was an instant convert to a life of sex, to sex with Gary, to a life with Gary. She only wanted to lie silently remembering that bliss and loving the man who had made it possible.

Then Gary said, "It wasn't your first time, was it?" It had been her first time like that, and she tried to say so.

Instead, it turned into a night of recrimination. It hadn't been his first time, either. She had known that all along and had been grateful for his experienced care for her. But he didn't think that his past was relevant.

"Promise me one thing," Gary said as they drove home hours late. "Never tell me who it was. I would have to kill him." Her mother kept her from dating Gary for a month, they broke up a month after their next date. They came back together, and she swore to be faithful to him.

"All we can do is to take reasonable precautions," Lori said. "And pray. Don't you think that getting her to spend the time in her own house will give us a better chance?"

"I suppose," Dan said. "After all, we can't really keep her from doing what she wants. At least, with us just down the hall, this Mark kid won't be able to force her... I hope."

"I hope so too. I figure that it's better than a parked car somewhere.

"Anyway," she continued, "it's Valentine's Day. We can be parents tomorrow. You dish out the dessert while I change out of this girdle." They always dressed fairly formally when a date picked up their daughter. That didn't make Cheryl like the idea that the boy had to come in, but it did obviate some of her arguments. Anyway, the idea of a kid forcing Cheryl stirred dark memories and darker images. She wanted a few minutes alone to exorcise them.

She'd always followed Gary's rule, even with Dan. She'd never mentioned Ted to another living soul. That was one reason that she had never followed Dan into Catholicism, although Cheryl had been raised in the church. She didn't want to go to confession. She felt sometimes that she should tell Cheryl, warn Cheryl; but she never had. Her mother had warned her, and it hadn't taken.

Ted's parents had gone away for a weekend, and Lori had faked a babysitting job. Ted stirred her blood as no other boy in the school ever had. Her mother had taken an unreasonable dislike to him. "You went to the last dance with Ted," she'd said. "Find another boy for this dance."

"Mother, it doesn't work like that."

"So stay home." She had; Ted hadn't. A couple broke up at the dance, over Ted's dancing too often with the girl according to some stories. Anyway, it had ended with Ted and Cindy as a couple. Lori had been out in the cold. "So find another boy," her mother had said. She did, but Dave didn't kiss like Ted did.

So, now, she started off on her "baby-sitting" assignment, but the house she went to was Ted's. Barefoot, he led her down to the rec room.

Ted still kissed with heavenly skill. He still lit fires in her that no-one else could. He still stroked her breasts as if they were precious fabric. He still tried to go too far.

"Stop it! I'm not that kind of girl," she said.

"What kind of girl are you? I'm still taking Cindy to the next dance, I'm still not your official boyfriend. If I took you down for a malt, there would be talk that neither of us would want."

"I know all that. I don't want to go out with you, especially tonight. My mother thinks that I'm babysitting. I just want you to hold me and kiss me."

"And a little more."

"Yes. A little more, I love how I feel when you pet me."

"Well," said Ted, "you'll love how you feel when I pet you right. If you don't, I'll stop."

"You can stop right here."

"Fine. I'm stopping. Can you find your own way out?"

"Ted!"

"You visited my house for a petting date," he said. "You don't like the way I pet. That's fine; we can end the date now. Look, you've enjoyed everything I've done so far. All I'm asking is that you try it out."

That was a little off the point. She'd never thought that she wouldn't enjoy it. She'd just thought that she shouldn't do it. Caught between the choice of going home to explain everything and trying things that she really did think she would enjoy, she allowed him to remove her slacks and panties.

"Oh, Lori," he said, "you're beautiful." He kissed her then, before moving her back to the couch. He kissed her mouth and gently smoothed over her breasts. He teased her breasts with lips and tongue before ever touching her mound.

She did enjoy what his hands could do between her legs, enjoyed it until she soared away from him and flew into a brief bliss. He kissed her deeply as she returned, kissed her until she shoved him away so she could breathe.

"Okay," he said to that, "I'll be back in a minute." True to his word, he reappeared with two cans of soda in his hands. "Are you thirsty? I have ginger ale and root beer."

"Root beer, please," she said. He opened her can and handed it to her.

"Chilly?" She wasn't really, but she was feeling awfully naked. When she nodded, he removed his shirt and draped it over her. She had actually wanted her shirt, but she was covered. Ted was a lot bigger than she was, and his shirt covered a lot more of her thighs. He opened his can and sat to her right, with his arm draped over her.

"You know," he said, "I was serious. Everybody knows that you are a cute-looking girl. But you are absolutely gorgeous without your clothes."

He sat like that while she finished her drink. Once in a while he would say something else about her beauty, how her breasts were firm and her nipples enticing, for instance.

When she was finished with her can, he took it from her and set both of their cans down on an end table. "But what is most beautiful about you," he said as if there hadn't been a two minute pause in the conversation, "is your lovely fur-covered mound of pleasure."

The purple prose set her off a tiny bit, but the thought was reassuring even so. Being pretty is important to any girl, and she has to wonder about how pretty she is where no boy is supposed to see her. Who can she ask? But Ted seemed both experienced and impressed.

Soon he was kissing her again. This time, although he took his time, there were no impediments to his exploration. Soon, she was lying down on the couch with his hand between her spread-open legs. Again, his mouth on her breasts and his hand below sent her teetering near the edge.

This time, while she teetered, she felt something against her thigh. When she opened her eyes, Ted was kneeling between her legs. "Relax, Lori," he said. "This will be wonderful."

Then, as she struggled to pull herself together, he placed himself at her entry. Bucking to throw him off just helped his cock drive home.

It wasn't wonderful; it was painful and invasive; mostly it was a dirty trick. He pumped in and out a few times while she struggled. Then he slumped over her. She pushed him off and sat up. A lot of fluid oozed out of her. From the pink threads in it, some of it must have been blood.

"I love you," Ted said from the floor.

"Well, I hate you. I want my clothes and I want to go home."

"Your clothes are over there. Except for your bra and panties. They're in the freezer."

"The what?"

"I thought that you might want to claim that I forced something on you that you didn't want. I felt that you might have a hard time explaining why I had time to take your bra and panties while you were willingly naked and put them in the freezer. That took some time you know. You could have left while I took that trip. You could have retrieved them before they had time to get cold."

"You are a dirty sneak."

"I've been called worse. Think about me for the next few days, and you'll see that you'll want me again. I'm not a boy scout, but I'm the best lover that you'll find in that school. Do you want to take your underwear out of the freezer now? Would you like a shower while they warm up? It will be another hour before your mother will believe that you're done babysitting."

She had finally accepted the shower. She had never spoken with him again. Years later, she'd figured out that it was probably his own first experience as well. With hands and mouth, he might well have been the best lover in that high school, as he bragged. After she'd had some experience, however, she realized that he had no finesse at all in actual intercourse. He probably had improved with experience. Where was Ted today, she wondered. An expert gigolo? In jail for raping someone harder to bluff than she had been? In hell?

Hard as it was to smooth young Cheryl's path along lovers' lane, it was at least possible. Insight, however profound, was not going to change Lori's history one iota. Time to abandon the past and live in the present.

She hadn't intended the pun, but she giggled nevertheless. Last year's Valentine's Day present was a pair of black, real- silk stockings to go with the garter belt the year before. The present the year before that had been several sets of black panties, one of which she put on over the stockings. The first present had been a half bra; or some fraction of a bra (a half should have covered some of her areolae). Dan soon learned, however, that she wanted to feel like a temptress, not like a whore.

The bra she put on had support, and it was not quite transparent on the top. Well, the top of a brassiere really hadn't much purpose. She put on slippers immediately; she didn't want runs in those stockings. Then she looked at herself before slipping the robe over everything.

It wouldn't do to appear in the kitchen looking sexy. First the dessert, then the celebration. "Strawberry ice cream!" she said, as she had said it the first time, when it had really been a surprise. This memory was allowed in Dan's presence because Dan shared in it.

Lori was a freshman who had taken advance-placement physics and high-school calculus. She would have done the same with chemistry had the chem lab in her high school been outfitted after Lavoisier's. Dan was an English-major Junior who desperately needed a distribution in a "natural science." Sworn to be faithful to Gary, she had approached each of the four other women in her lab section.

None of them wanted to be her lab partner. She'd seen Dan with a girl on campus, playfully pushing on the end of her nose. Observation had taught her that casual touching meant a long- term relationship, she just didn't guess how long-term.

By the time she found out that Cheryl (not to be "Aunt Cheryl" for years yet) was Dan's sister, Dan and she had been lab partners.

Dan would never understand the first thing about the simplest oxidation-reduction equation, but he could follow instructions carefully and had a steady hand for pouring chemicals and really nice handwriting for the notebook.

Dan watched her eat her strawberry ice cream with gusto, and then slow down as she fell into a reverie. After years of marriage, he knew her thoughts sometimes. He could remember that quarter as well.

Dan thought that Lori was quite attractive, but he needed her brains more than her body. She explained that she was being faithful to Gary, who attended another school. He promised to keep romance out of their relationship. Lori and he "studied chemistry together" until she asked what she was getting out of it. Then she tutored him in chemistry while he "checked the grammar" of her English papers. That soon looked an awful lot like editing; "What do you mean here?" he would ask. The pairing raised her to an A in English and him to a C in the book part of chemistry. (They jointly earned As in the lab portion, and fully deserved it.)

Since she spurned any romantic involvement, he would only take her out when he was showing Cheryl around as well. The three of them had fun together. Dan would study in Lori's room, scrupulously avoiding any touch; he would sprawl in his seat watching the amateur drama presentations with one arm casually draped over Cheryl's shoulder, and another over Lori's. Whenever she thought that Dan had got too full of himself, Cheryl would stage a tickle attack, sometimes persuading Lori to help her. Whatever thoughts of Lori those events generated, Dan confided only to his lonely bed.

"That was a weird period," he said.

"We were all weird, Linda not least."

"Linda!" he said.

Linda, one of Lori's roommates, hadn't helped either one's peace of mind. She, too, had "study dates"; but she seemed only to study reproductive biology. Night after night, Lori heard the squeak of her springs and various noises from her various guests. This forced her and Pat, the third roommate, to entertain any of their guests in their bedrooms, rather than the main room which was intended for study and entertainment of guests, in order to put two doors between them and the sounds. In her room, she had to take the bed while Dan or any other visitor took a chair dragged in from the main room. Pat complained about this pattern, but Lori -- hoping for a visit from Gary one day -- kept silent. The few times that Dan visited late enough to hear those squeaks he tried to avoid looking at Lori's face while she tried to avoid looking at his groin.

"And your sister," she said, "kept trying to change our expeditions into double dates."

Cheryl played the field, but an occasional special boy would make a foursome of their trio. Lori knew that Cheryl was bringing someone to be checked out by her brother and her friend, but these excursions bothered her conscience. She felt that she was getting awfully close to dating Dan and hoped Gary was being truer to her than she felt that she was being to him.

She experienced the Christmas holidays as a let down. Gary and she could escape somewhere private enough for real sex only twice. The worse problem was that they didn't seem to have much to talk about when they were together in company. He would tell everybody stories about his first semester at college, and they would be fascinating stories. He didn't seem to have any stories for her, though, even ones he had told before.

Then school began again, and she and Dan were lab partners for another quarter.

On Valentines Day, Dan took "his girls" out for ice cream. Lori couldn't see that as a February treat until Dan ordered without asking. It was strawberry ice cream with little split strawberries which looked (slightly) like Valentine hearts. She loved the treat and laughed with Cheryl until she looked over at Dan. His look wasn't the patronizing fondness he showed to Cheryl. It was desire and, much worse, love. She pled an assignment due the next day and returned to her dorm soon. She knew that she should have felt guilty towards Gary for keeping faithfulness in only the most technical sense. Instead she felt guilty towards Dan. Why, she couldn't figure; she had warned him and didn't owe him any obligation, anyway.

Back at the dorm, she picked up her mail. There was a letter from Gary, only the second since Christmas. Maybe, she hoped, he would be able to visit her for a few days. The letter was long, but the point was in a single sentence on the second page.

Gary had met somebody else.

He felt that he and Lori were growing apart; they each needed to experience the full range of college, including social life; he wouldn't feel he was being fair if he held Lori to her promise. And, as he had mentioned earlier, he had met somebody else. So he thought that they should consider one another free. In light of that, he no longer considered her bound to avoid dates with others; and he was no longer bound, either. Indeed, there was already somebody else who had piqued his interest. And, he added parenthetically, it had been the first time for her.

Lori cried herself to sleep, but managed to get to all the classes but one the next day. That one was chemistry. She hadn't any idea of what to say to Dan. On the evening of the sixteenth, however, he called from the dorm lobby. It was their regular study night, and there was a chemistry quiz the next morning. Dan needed her help. She got out the chemistry book and told him to come up.

She hadn't said much for a while, but Dan read her thoughts in her face. Besides, today was Valentine's Day; besides, he'd been there.

His usually vivacious tutor couldn't seem to put the ideas in a clear form that night. A dozen times, Dan had formulated the question, "What's wrong, Lori?" A dozen times he had answered it for her, "And what business is it of yours?" before he could say it. He stayed later and tried to understand the chemistry again. Then the bed springs started squeaking from another room. They looked at each other. He had a raging erection, but luckily the book was on his lap.

She said, quite out of the blue, "I got a letter from Gary two days ago." Her tone was sad, as though Gary had announced that he had a disease. He had left so much unsaid to Lori, that it was easy to maintain silence now. After a while she went on. "He thinks we ought to have our freedom." There was another long pause. "He's dating a girl at his college."

"Does this mean," he asked, "that I could ask you out on a date without my Duennita?"

"Cheryl?"

"Yes. I love my little sister, but she is not my first choice for company when I have a date with a beautiful girl."

He looked at her across the table. The ice cream was getting soft. He started spooning it faster. She had been beautiful then, and gotten more beautiful over the years. She ran a hospital micro lab rather than having the Nobel in physics as she had planned back then; he was personnel director for a glass plant rather than writing the great American novel. But they had had a life.

When you have been married long enough, at least when you have been really married long enough, you sometimes think the same thoughts. "Anyway," she said, "Who says that Great America deserves a novel?"

"Transparent?"

"One mind."

"Isn't it 'one body'?"

"Not yet. Eat your ice cream." They each spooned faster, but their thoughts were still shared.

"I'm not beautiful," she said. "You're a nice man, always nice to me. You deserve better than Gary's rejects."

"I don't give a flying fuck about Gary," he said. "I've never met the boy. I don't want his choice or his reject or the object of his indifference. I want Lori. I've wanted Lori for some time, but she was being loyal. It was very hard to remember that her soul was as beautiful as her body and that part of that beauty was that very loyalty."

All through their speech, the bed next door had been shaking. Now it slowed and stopped.

"I feel cheap and used," she said.

"That's how you feel about Lori. How do you feel about Daniel?"

"You're a wonderful guy."

"Am I good enough to be kissed?" She began the kiss, rather chastely with closed lips. He responded, first pressing his lips firmly against hers, then opening his mouth. He licked her lips until they opened to let her tongue come out and play. The kiss went on until they needed to breathe.

She felt the request as a comfort and the kiss as a greater comfort. Somebody felt that she was an acceptable person.

Then the kiss turned into passion and the passion into desire. Just when she needed more from him than his mouth on hers, he was caressing her. He passed his hand all over her, her back first, then her side and butt and thigh. Finally, when they broke the kiss, his other hand reached her breast and fondled it.

After each had a few gasping breaths, she drew his head back to renew the kiss. She wanted to be held and kissed like this forever, but she wanted skin to touch skin. Knowing that the two were incompatible, she rejoiced when his hand crept to the buttons on her blouse. He had most of them undone when they had to breathe again.

"Let me," she said. She pushed him back enough to allow her to remove the blouse.

She unhooked the bra and shrugged it off before reaching for his face again. But he was leaning back looking at her.

He had dreamed of her in his arms and had ruthlessly suppressed those dreams. Now she was in his arms and her mouth was on his. He was hopelessly stiff, but he could almost ignore that in the glory of her kiss.

The bottom of her tongue was the sweetest thing that he had ever tasted, much better than the ice cream of two days ago. He tried to stop at a kiss, but his hands were totally beyond the control of his mind, and they wanted, needed, to feel her body. When they reached it, they were only briefly satisfied with her general shape. One hand cuddled her breast, and he almost came from the sensation.

These feelings were too exquisite to resist, and yet they merely whetted his appetite for more. He started to strip her upper body, at least, so that he could feel those breasts in their perfection. When she pushed him away, he was sure that he had ruined things by rushing her, and was about to be expelled forever from paradise.

"Let me," she said, and he realized that he was going to be admitted to heaven instead. He resisted the opportunity of feeling them for one moment of seeing them.

"Her Breast," he quoted, "(a place for beauty's throne most fit) Bears up two globes where love and pleasure sit, Which beaded with two rich round rubies show Like wanton rose buds growing out of snow."

"You're such a romantic," she said.

"Perhaps," he said, "but Herrick said it first; and he was a Metaphysical if anything. Come here, let me kiss you again."

She shook her head and moved back against the wall. "You come here," she said.

For a moment, she was afraid that she had been too forward, but he was only removing his shoes. She glanced at his groin as he swung onto the bed.

His erection was tenting his pants. Then he kissed her again, starting at the beginning, except that both hands went everywhere. When his mouth followed his hands to her breasts, she leaned back against the wall and let the feelings run through her. She was more aroused than breast-play alone had ever before aroused her. He kneaded her buttocks and petted her thighs. Suddenly all that stimulation stopped. Was he tired of her? No, his hands were on her waistband, and his eyes were staring into hers. She reached down to unbutton the jeans herself.

She peeled everything down to her knees before he got off the bed to pull them off.

Her invitation wasn't helping his erection at all. Slipping off his shoes, he joined her in the bed.

They kissed deeply while his hands explored the warm skin of her back, the shape of her butt and thighs, and -- finally -- the shape and smoothness and softness of her breasts. He had to kiss her there, and did.

But even heaven wasn't enough. He wanted her ultimate warmth, her womanly secrets. But he also wanted her consent.

No. He wanted her desire. He stopped with his hands on her belt to look into her face. She came back from wherever women go when they are enjoying your attention to see his question. After an eternity, she accepted. Her own hands replaced his at her belt.

The rhythmic bed squeakings from the other room resumed, somehow sounding louder in their aroused conditions. He moved back on the bed, reaching for her breast. "Yours," she said, starting to unbutton his shirt.

"Do you have anything?" he asked, "because I don't. I daren't get undressed next to your beautiful body without protection." He started to lick her right breast from the base to the quivering nipple.

"I don't have anything," she said. "I thought all boys carried a rubber in their wallet. I never took the pill, and I'm not a Linda. She keeps a box of Trojans in her dresser just in case."

"Somehow, I don't think that she is in a mood to lend one of them to you just now. I did carry one when I was a boy, but I'm twenty now. Look, lie back; we can't finish this, but we can go further.

He moved back to give her most of the space on the bed. When she lay down, he started kissing her mouth again. He traveled downwards: ear, neck, breast, across her ribs and belly in a line with an obvious destination. She could do that for him, too, she thought; she had done it for Gary. Then her thighs were being kissed while they were being spread.

Dan's tongue teased her and aroused her. She had never been kissed so satisfactorily; she had never felt such lack of kisses. She was in bliss; she was in agony. She was too preoccupied to notice anything that was not happening below her waist. She was acutely aware of the first moan telling her that Linda, if not she, had received satisfaction.

He desperately wanted to kiss her center, but Lori was a person to him, not a cunt; and he needed to treat her that way. And kissing her mouth was a pleasure all its own, and kissing her breasts a pleasure greater yet. He traveled slowly, lovingly, and quite enjoyably, toward the center of his desire. That patient progress became a torment, though, when he got close enough to smell her arousal.

This was Lori. This was Lori, and he wanted to taste her. This was Lori, and he wanted more than a taste of her. This was Lori, and she, gloriously, wanted him. This was Lori, and he, tragically, wasn't going to have her.

A moan came through the wall just before his mouth found her center. It reminded her to grab a pillow to stifle her own sounds. The moans turned into sobs, and the bed began to hit against the wall before the sounds died, leaving them excited by the example but alone in their private world.

And they were alone in the whole world as Dan's tongue explored her entrance. He licked all over while she shivered and quivered in appreciation. When she could take no more of this teasing, she grabbed his hair and pulled him onto her. Then he reached her clit and licked her to a peak of need. She teetered there for a moment, and then screamed as she went over. The pillow didn't help much, and her moans only came from the aftershocks that he sucked out of her center.

She lay gasping in his arms. He kissed her face and then took her hand in his as he dropped down on the bed. He brought it to his mouth and scattered kisses over it.

He had been tantalized by her aroma long enough. He needed to taste her, even if he wasn't going to be able to possess her.

He licked her inner lips and the delicious taste tempted him to risk everything by stripping and burying himself in her sweet- tasting warmth.

But this was Lori, a person not just a body. This was Lori of the quick mind and gentle laugh. He would taste and do no more. The more he did was to tease her with his tongue until she pulled him against her beauty. Then he licked and sucked her to a wild climax.

He couldn't possess her, but he could evoke her ultimate beauty. She screamed her completion, but he had already felt it against his face.

He smiled ironically as he took the pillow from her.

"Poor Pat," she said, and gestured towards the wall into Pat's room. First Linda's loud completion, and then Lori's.

"Pat!" they said together. The bed had been knocking against the wall between her room and Pat's. They looked at each other in wild surmise. Lori grabbed her robe.

There was no necktie on any doorknob in the suite. She hadn't expected love when she invited Dan up; Pat hadn't remembered the code. But Linda was an old hand. No necktie on her door almost certainly meant that she didn't have a male guest.

Lori knocked gently on Linda's door. Linda laughed at her request. She sold Lori Trojans, two of them "Just in case."

"I don't expect any more complaints from my roommates," Linda said.

"I wasn't the one who complained," said Lori.

"That's true."

When she got back to her room, Dan was in her bed under the covers.

He seemed to want to start at the beginning again, but she pushed him onto his back and handed him the condom.

She had never done this, but she wanted and needed to. She straddled him and eased herself down. She let him fit himself to her entrance, and then eased back until she had completely engulfed him. Then she let him begin his caresses.

Finally, she had to move. She did it abruptly rather than rhythmically. But, combined with his hands on her breasts and clitoris, that motion was more than enough. She soared, flew apart; and came together again lying on his chest with him still firmly distending her.

When he turned them over, he came out. But that was only the opportunity for a long thrust back inside. His movements continued to be deep and increased in fervor and speed. "Lori," he said, and thrust into her as if nailing her to the bed. She could feel him quivering deep within her until he collapsed gasping on her breast.

He hoped that Lori would be successful in her quest. If not, he would ask her to use her small, deft, hands to relieve him. In any event, he wanted to be in her bed.

He thought of her loyalty where it wasn't deserved. He thought of her subtle mind, which had taught him that there was intelligence which consisted of thinking things rather than of expressing well what one thought. He tried to not think of her body with its soft breasts and firm thighs. He especially tried to not think of her enticing aroma, but it was still around him.

Lori returned successful from her quest. She doffed her robe and joined him under the covers. She pushed him onto his back and took control. Luckily, that didn't extend to putting the condom on; he was afraid that he would explode if she touched him.

She hovered above him for a moment before impaling herself on him.

Even his fear of an imminent explosion couldn't distract him from the smooth, clasping, enclosure.

When he was completely within her and was the throne from which she ruled their one-room kingdom, he could watch and feel and caress and tease those beautiful breasts almost to satiation. Then he kept his left hand to measure each of them in turn while his right hand petted her thighs and investigated the slick, mysterious, folds where they met.

Her motions along his shaft tensed him unmercifully, and the spasmodic clutching of her warmth about his manhood almost brought him over.

But the position and the condom kept him one millimeter from satisfaction.

Then it was his turn on top. As he drove to completion, he suddenly remembered that this was not only womanly warmth, it was the girl whom he had come to love. He called her name before he pumped all his vitality into the frail latex protecting her.

They lay together for a while. "I love you," he said.

"It wasn't my first time," she said.

"Mine neither. Does that mean that you won't ever love me?" She began to cry. "Look, was this that horrible for you? We'll get better for each other. All we need is a little practice together, though I will warn you that much better for me would probably be fatal. Next time there won't be the interruption of bothering Linda. I'll even go back to carrying a condom in my wallet, but they don't usually provide a secret compartment in adult wallets. Tell me you don't hate me."

"I don't hate you. I hate myself, I'm not good enough for you."

"Traditionally, that's my line. And I wasn't planning to use it until I had saved up enough for a ring."

"You don't want to marry a girl with my past."

"Neither of us has a past. We started today. No! When was that letter postmarked, the twelfth?"

"Something like that. I didn't look."

"We two start the twelfth," he said. "I want Valentine's day with the strawberry ice cream. But we don't go any further back than that. Neither of us has the least bit of past, except for remembering that every pronoun should have a clear antecedent."

"And the difference between ionic and covalent bonds."

"There's a difference? Why didn't you tell me?" She jabbed him under the ribs. "Anyway, we might need to remember some such matters, but each of us started our sex lives today. There was nobody earlier. And I think we did quite well, considering. No blood or anything. So you had nobody before me, nor I before you. If, however, you happen to read or imagine anything you want us to try, you need merely suggest it."

And they had followed that rule until their memories were a help in dealing with young Cheryl, and no threat at all. Only once had the memory of Gary intruded into their lives, and that was his fault. He'd written a letter telling Lori about his divorce.

"You deal with it," she said. "I want words that scar him. I want it to be so traumatic that he suppresses every memory of me and my married name. You're the expert on words."

"But you have to help," he said. "All I know about the asshole is that he was stupid enough to let you out of his arms. I'm not an expert on talking to the stupid. What makes him tick?" The final result was a collaboration:

"Dear Gary," it read. "I was sorry to hear about your divorce. Happy for her, of course, but you are the one I know and care more about. I know that, older and a less desirable item in the marriage market, you will have an extremely difficult time finding any woman to replace the one you lost. You must have already reconciled yourself to the impossibilibty of finding one as desirable.

"What I don't understand is your reason to think that this 'changes the relationship between us.' First of all, I am still married; second, there isn't a relationship between us. We have, of course, a shared history; but that predates your marriage, much less your divorce. It is a small, and decreasingly significant, segment of my memories.

I will, however, always cherish the memory of your letter setting me free to pursue my happiness. Because, you see, I soon found it. Dan is grateful, too.

"Here is wishing you a better life in the future, especially that you someday manage to find a woman who is tolerant enough to stay married to you.

"Sincerely, Lori."

Their letter was never answered, but they didn't resent that.

The ice cream was soup now, and -- pleasant as the idea of it remained -- wasn't really their current idea of a treat. They dumped the dishes and spoons into the sink, and retired to their bedroom.

He brought out the package. "It isn't really fair you know," she said, rather perfunctorily.

"Of course it is. I wrap a package for you, and then you unwrap it and wrap something for me. Then I unwrap that. It is absolute equity."

"You can argue anything into anything else." But, as they both knew, those gifts could only be worn for him; and he enjoyed them every bit as much as she did.

This year's gift was a translucent peignoir. She unwrapped it, expressed her appreciation verbally, and doffed her robe to put it on. Then it was time for her kiss of appreciation. This took a long time, as his hands explored her body while his tongue explored her mouth. "Now," she said, it is time for you to do your unwrapping."

She was always surprised anew by the gentle attention he brought to the process of undressing her on their celebratory evenings.

He unfastened the peignoir and kissed her neck as he eased it off her shoulders. She shivered as he visited the extra-sensitive spots that he had found over the years.

He stepped back to admire her look in the underclothes before removing her bra. It was absurd to feel shy; she undressed in front of this man hundreds of times a year; yet his attention did make her feel something, shy? modest? exposed? After removing the bra, he took his time kissing her breasts while her excitement grew. Then he kissed down her abdomen until his path was blocked by the panties. His mouth and hands were both arousing her by this time.

He kissed her mound as he slid the panties off. She stepped out of them and immediately moved over to the bed.

His kisses on her thighs through the silk warmed her, although she suspected that most of the feeling was of anticipation.

His mouth on the small band of skin above her stockings, however, was immediately exciting and just a little bit ticklish. He kissed her mound once, then her outer labia before separating them.

From that moment onward, his tongue spread fire wherever it went. She shivered at his first teasing licks at the inner lips, she twisted under his tongue's strokes up her groove and around her clitoris.

Then he touched it with the tip of his tongue! She stiffened in need and pulled him against her. She could feel him chuckling against all those sensitive nerve endings. The first suction stiffened her more and she pulled him tighter into her. Then the licks and sucks alternated as she flew apart.

Without a child in the house, she needn't clutch a pillow or bite her lip. Instead, she moaned as each wave passed through her and then shrieked at the end. He sucked her once more, but then knelt there quietly while she recovered.

When she managed to catch her breath, she got all the way on the bed. He joined her, down far enough to put his lips at breast level.

"Lori," he said before beginning to lick and kiss her right breast. One hand tickled her above the stocking tops.

His kisses found her nipple just as his fingers entered her. She felt the recently-banked flames start anew. The warmth spread from her breasts, but the fire was kindled much lower. Soon, she needed more than petting down there.

She caressed up his arm and down his back. She grasped his hip for a moment, then dropped her hand down the back of his thigh as far as she could reach. She stroked up the inside of his thigh. He was pointing outward, but not yet hard. "Now?" he asked.

"Now!"

He abandoned her breast and even her vagina. He moved between her legs while she spread them wider and raised her knees. While he looked down on her opened femininity, she ran her hands up his spread thighs. She cupped his scrotum with both hands. He was a lot stiffer now, but she took his penis in her hand anyway.

He moved out of her hands and towards the foot of the bed, but she grasped him again when he lay forward over her. Now he was nice and hard.

She opened herself with one hand while she fitted him with the other. Then he came into her. She was filled once more, as she had been filled so often and so delightfully before. She gave him a hug before lying back to enjoy the last act. He kissed her left breast before straightening above her and moving within her.

She tried to watch his face move above her, but her attention was drawn more and more to the feelings of her vulva. Then Dan turned them partly over so that one hand could tease her clitoris while he still pistoned inside her. She bit her lip as the tension built, moaned as it spiraled upward, and then screamed her completion.

A moment later, she was flat on her back again as Dan sped his driving strokes within her, sped again, and then stopped with all his weight concentrated on her pelvis.

Then he dropped sideways and lay partly above her and partly beside her.

Later she extricated herself to remove the stockings and garter belt. Then she cuddled into him in the spoon position. He put his arms around her, as he always did; and it comforted her, as it always did.

Dan would hold her, always.

Wrapped in that comfort, the temptress retreated into her secret lair; the mother emerged.

She checked the clock. Not ten yet. She would have to wash in a few minutes. Cheryl was probably having the time of her life and would want as little parenting as possible -- much less parenting than possible, really. In the situations where she would want a mother, however, she would want one with no sexual identity at all.

She didn't want to leave the comfort of this embrace just yet, though. One eye on the clock, she dozed.

This woman was naked in his presence most days of his life. It was easier to ignore her beauty than to deal with it constantly.

Brought to his attention, however, it was still as breathtaking as it had been twenty years before. What she had lost in girlish sleekness, she had gained in rich, full womanliness. And his early imaginings of her charms had not one tenth the erotic power of his memories of being upon and within her again and again.

He kissed a few favorite areas while removing her peignoir, and stopped for one long look at the entirety before returning to remove her bra. He constrained himself to the absolute minimum attention to her breasts and their lovely nipples, and then kissed his way to the panties. He didn't dare linger there, but he knew that this opportunity would return soon.

Indeed, she was soon lying on the bed ready for him to taste her again. He teased himself as much as her by kisses through the silk. When he got to real skin, it was too close to the tempting aroma of her center for him to linger there.

When he kissed her mound, the hair had captured even more of that scent. Unable to resist a taste any longer, he spread her outer lips with his fingers so that he could taste her inner ones. Then he could slow down and savor it, while it was her turn for impatience.

He put his hands on her hips. From now on, only his tongue would tease her. The taste and texture of her center were maddeningly aphrodisiac, but less so than her response to his tongue. He licked, and tasted, and listened to her gasps, and felt her writhe under his face and between his hands.

He laughed once in triumph when she clutched his head to pull it against her groin. Then he was too busy promoting her orgasm to comment on it.

He sucked on the clitoral area and passed his tongue lightly over the bud itself. She moaned, then moaned each time he repeated the process. When she screamed his name, he knew that she was ending. He gave this orgasm one last, sucking, kiss in farewell, and started planning the next one.

Whil her breathing evened, he lay on his side next to her breasts. He entertained himself with the near one while his hand stole lower. He soon sought out her G-spot and used that and the nipple to arouse her.

As she became aroused again, she stroked him. It started innocently enough, but she soon zeroed in on his cock and balls. Then she reminded him of the view that was going to waste.

He knelt between her legs to see her spread out beneath him dressed still in the garter belt and silk stockings. Her sex was framed by these erotic garments and spread open to his gaze. He firmed at that sight, and hardened at the feel of her hands on his thighs, his balls, and then his cock. He watched her manipulate his genitals against the background of her openness.

Soon, however, all this stimulation bred an urgency. When he had positioned his body, she positioned his cock. He drove into the wet warmth which had welcomed him so often. She hugged him below immediately, and with her arms as soon as he had adjusted his body over hers.

He bent himself as much as he could to taste her other breast, and then began the slow strokes in and out that were the culmination and the meaning of their evening together.

The feel of her legs on the sides of his hips was always a comforting, albeit subliminal, accompaniment to the more acute friction within her center. It was a sign that she welcomed him as well as the stimulation. Her silk-clad legs felt much different, sliding over him rather than riding with his movements.

The sensations of his phallus still dominated his thoughts: the yielding, liquid, welcoming clasp as he moved inward; the seemingly-tighter grip as he moved outward, as if she were reluctant to have him go; the indescribable feeling of having her tight entry ring around his most sensitive portion as he held himself within her at the top of his motion.

But none of this, sweet as it was, could compare to the sensations of her body tensing under his, her breath tightening into moans, and then her sweet tunnel clutching around him. Consecrated by her scream of ending, his desire could seek his own release. It did, flooding him with love and lust until the lust gushed out though his phallus leaving only love.

When Lori snuggled into his arms, he hugged her with a little of that love. If he tried to express all of it, he would leave bruises.

"I can't really sleep," he reminded himself. If Cheryl needed a ride home, or her date needed a reminder to leave, he would rather provide the service while awake.

They were chatting about the work that would need to be done on the yard in the spring, neither paying any attention to the subject, neither wanting to say, "What if she's in a car accident?" or "What if she's getting impregnated right now?" But each could feel the other relax when they heard the door close.

"I'm home, Mother," called Cheryl.

"Fine, Cheryl," Lori called. ("Sweetheart" is not an appropriate name to call one's daughter in the presence of her peers, according to Cheryl.) "It's 10:42. You have until 11:18."

Actually, she put 40 minutes on the battered, old, wind-up, alarm. It was the only clock they could find to be heard in the living room from the bedroom. Dan got up to dress fully, Lori followed him to put on her nightgown and robe. Too bad that she couldn't wear the fancy new peignoir; the thought occurred to them simultaneously, and they shared a look that was mostly humorous with only a dash of the salacious.

He silently slipped on his only pair of shoes with metal cleats on the heels. Finally, the alarm clock pealed. Dan, who normally slipped around the house silently as a cat, marched down the hall sounding like a Prussian platoon. He was half way to the living room when the light suddenly came from the doorway.

Mark, standing awkwardly, bade him a formal good night. Cheryl tore by him without a word. He locked the door and waited until Mark's car drove away in the distance.

Lori greeted him with a raised eyebrow. "Did we say anything about turning the light off?" he asked. She shook her head. "Let's next time."

Lori knocked on Cheryl's door. "Did you have a nice time, sweetheart? There's some strawberry ice cream for you in the freezer."

"You two!" Cheryl exploded. "Valentine's Day is about romance, it's about love. All it means to you is ice cream and counting minutes. You wouldn't recognize romance if you tripped over it!"



The End
Locksmiths
Uther Pendragon
[email protected]
1998/02/18
2004/02/14

Thanks to Neneh for editing this. 

Another story of a woman's first time is:
"Honey Bee"

This story is coded (MF mf 1st).

The code, 1st, means: First time intercourse; also first time FF or MM.

For more on the story codes and how to use them to find the 
sorts of stories to interest you:
"Story codes for readers" 


The index to almost all my stories is:
Index to Uther Pendragon's website


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