Lisa's First Love - Chapter One free porn video

I meet Don

I remember very well the day Don’s family moved in next door.

His family came to New Orleans from Portland, Oregon, and I was a gawky fourteen year old, soon to be an eighth grader, when I first met Don.

Don was a handsome, athletically-built seventeen year old. He was entering the eleventh grade.

I was very much a tomboy who liked sports and I played on the girls’ basketball team. I was also a good student, who made good grades. In many ways, I was every parent’s dream.

However, I was not overly feminine, sexy or petite. I had shot up to five foot nine inches, and I was rather thin; almost skinny. At age fourteen, I was not the cute ‘cheerleader type’ that the boys my age sought.

At the time Don moved in, I was struggling with the changes occurring in my body, and struggling with the transition from a little girl to a young woman. To be quite honest, I did not like the feelings I was experiencing as I labored through adolescence. I particularly did not like the expectations that went along with being a lady.

I did not like the fact that boys could still be adolescent creatures who could do and say what they wanted, but I was expected to act lady-like. The double standard between genders simply made me mad. This anger showed in many ways, particularly to boys my own age. I thought they were immature idiots. And far too frequently I let them know how I felt about their antics. Most boys in my social circles were crude and rude. In many cases, they were not even terribly clean! They were unsure of themselves and often acted like jerks to hide their insecurity.

Their insecurity and bad behavior, coupled with my own gender-based anger at society’s expectations of women, served to convince me that I really did not enjoy or want the company of boys my own age.

I realize now, looking back, that I expected too much from them. After all, they were struggling with the transition to adulthood, too. However, I did not have this level of understanding or tolerance when I was fourteen.

On the other hand, Don was as close to perfect as any male can be. To me, he was gorgeous. He was six feet three inches tall and had an excellent build, short brown hair and pale blue eyes. And, more importantly, he was very smart, mature and, at least to me, worldly.

Don was a starting forward on the basketball team and was honored as an all-district receiver on the football team at his all-boys Catholic school. He even garnered some interest from college coaches at some of the smaller, less athletically prestigious universities on the east coast.

Every chance I got, I would attend his games to watch him play and cheer him on. I loved watching him play. I will also confess that I felt little pangs of jealousy when the cheerleaders would fawn over him after the games. I knew that he thought of me like a little sister of sorts. To me, he was more than a big brother figure: he was the epitome of what I wanted in a male.

Don and I attended parochial Catholic schools in the suburbs of New Orleans. Unfortunately, we did not attend the same school, and we never would. As I mentioned, Don attended a large all-boys high school, and I attended the all-girls school six miles away. We never encountered each other in school.

Okay, I realized that as a fourteen-year-old junior high school student, he was completely out of reach. He was simply out of my league. Nonetheless, I worshiped him from afar, and cherished the few interactions we had.

Don would occasionally join me in my driveway as I practiced my basketball shot. He would give me pointers. He taught me to follow my shot, block out, how to protect the ball. If we played a little one-on-one, he would admonish me if I played timidly. I remember him telling me, "Stop playing like a girl; you are a basketball player, not a girl when you are on the court."

He treated me like a real person. Yes, I was aware that he had no physical desires for me. He was mature and worldly, I was an awkward young teen. Nonetheless, I liked any attention I got from him. 

For the next two years, Don and I remained friends, of sorts. He viewed me as a cute little sister; I viewed him as a beautiful and romantic prince who was simply out of my league.

Don graduated and was accepted to Cornell University where he would play basketball and study journalism. At the end of the summer, he left for college. This was the summer between my freshman and sophomore year. I turned sixteen in August, a week before he left for college in Ithaca, New York.

I did not see him again until the following summer, when I was entering my junior year. Much had changed during these nine months. Objectively speaking, I had blossomed nicely. I had transformed from an awkward fourteen-year-old that he first met, to a tall, slender, nicely proportioned, attractive young lady who was two months shy of her seventeenth birthday.

I am not bragging when I say I was more than just attractive. I was pretty with long blonde hair, large green eyes, perky breasts and long shapely legs that were topped by a firm yet round butt. Yes, I could turn heads.

Despite blossoming nicely, I was still completely inexperienced with boys. I still attended the all-girls Catholic high school, which limited my exposure to the opposite sex. I had been on few dates, and those all had been quite unfulfilling. Boys my age still seemed immature and insecure. They wanted one thing and I was not prepared to give it to them. No, the thought of being pawed and slobbered over by these horny teenagers had absolutely no appeal to me.

Still, I never forgot Don and I often wondered about his experiences at college. I wondered if he had a serious girlfriend. And, in the same context, I wondered if he ever thought about me, even for a second. Recognizing that I had matured nicely since the last time he saw me, I wondered if Don would view me any differently if our paths crossed this summer?

Don returns home

Within a day or two of his return, I happened to be outside when he drove up. I ran over to greet him.

“Welcome home,” I shouted from across the yard, as I ran up to hug him. I threw my arms around his neck and he picked me up and twirled me around. The expression on his face indicated that he was genuinely pleased to see me. And I thought his expression also conveyed that he liked what he saw.

“Well, good lord! Look at this! What happened to that scrawny little girl next door? Well, Little Lisa has ‘grown into a woman’ on me. You look great. You really do,” he said with enthusiasm.

“Well thank you, kind sir. I am glad you approve.” I made a joking attempt at a curtsey and flirted back. I was enjoying the attention and flattery. I was definitely pleased that he noticed the changes.

“Oh, I approve. I definitely approve,” he replied.

I could feel myself beaming from the compliments. Could it be that Don was actually looking at me as a woman?

“How was school? How did you like Cornell?” I asked with enthusiasm.

“It was hard, they make you work, but it was great. Seriously, Cornell is great. Ithaca is absolutely beautiful. Have you ever been upstate New York?”

I shook my head. I had seldom ventured outside of my home state of Louisiana. He seemed so worldly and mature. On the other hand, I felt like I had never done anything, and never experienced anything of consequence in my years on this planet.

“That was so cool reading about that game where you scored a triple-double. They had a nice write up in the paper,” I gushed. I was showing off, trying to demonstrate that I knew what a triple-double was: more than ten points, ten assists and ten rebounds. According to my dad, it was a rare and significant accomplishment to achieve a triple-double. I realized I sounded immature and silly as I was saying it.

“Yeah, that was a pretty good afternoon. It was against Penn. It was one of the few times I saw the court this year. There were eight upper classmen ahead of me on the depth charts. I spent most of the year on the bench. Next year should be better though,” he said optimistically.

I appreciated his confidence without a trace of arrogance. And I liked the fact that he never talked down to me.

“So, what are your plans for the summer?” I asked, honestly interested in what this gorgeous hunk had planned.

“I have landed a summer job as an intern at the Times Picayune working on the night news desk. It really is a great job for me. Unfortunately, I have to work from ten at night to six in the morning most days. You’ll be seeing me drag myself home around seven or seven-thirty. I will be going to sleep while most of the world is waking up,” he said.

“Well that kind of sucks,” I said with as much sympathy as I could muster.

“Aw, it won’t be too bad. This is a dream job for a journalism major. Most of my classmates are working construction, or worse, food service, or something similar this summer. Sophomores usually can’t get these kinds of summer jobs. I am really fortunate.”

Don was obviously pleased and a little proud to be working for Louisiana’s largest newspaper this summer. I really was happy for him. We chatted for a few minutes before he started to excuse himself to go into his house. I wanted to continue the encounter, but I knew he had to go. But I did extend an invitation for later.

“Well, when you’re not sleeping, come on over and hang out. My parents are both working, so I will be here by myself, just lounging around by our pool. It gets kind of boring here by myself. I would love some company.”

I tried to make the invitation sound as innocent as possible, but I wanted to make sure Don knew I was home alone most days. I knew it was unlikely he would act on the information, but I wanted him to have it, just in case.

As I expected, Don did not immediately show up at my house. But I continued to look for opportunities to innocently interact with him. I started timing my morning run so that I could increase the chances of seeing him as he came home from work. I would often be stretching on my front lawn before my run when he returned home.

My running attire was barely modest enough to avoid unwanted comments from my dad, but revealing enough to entice Don to come over to chat most mornings as I stretched in front of him. It was a delicate balance I had to maintain. I wore spandex tops, sans bra, that highlighted my nipples nicely and relatively short gym pants that showed off my legs and butt to their best advantage. I wanted to remind him that I was no longer that gangly fourteen year old.

From the admiring looks I got, I am sure he noticed.

Now, I want to be clear here. I did not have any specific thoughts about what I would do, or would not do, given the chance, with Don. I had no sexual experience to speak of. I had never even allowed a boy to feel me up. I certainly was not contemplating a sexual rendezvous with Don. I was attracted to him and would have welcomed the opportunity to explore the edges a bit, if he was so inclined. However, I was not thinking about having sex in any way, shape or form.

But I also knew instinctively how to flirt. I certainly knew how to catch his eye with my stretches in my spandex top, and how to sit close to him and touch his hand or leg as we talked, just enough to make him aware that I was here, and I was a woman.

Hanging out by the pool

Most mornings I managed to catch Don and he seemed to enjoy visiting with me while I stretched in my front yard. I liked catching him stealing glances at my butt or breasts, but I pretended not to notice.

We would often talk for fifteen to thirty minutes before he would announce, “Well, I am keeping you from your run, and I need to get some sleep.” And then he would walk to his house.

After a few encounters ending this way, I replied, “So how late do you sleep?”

“I don’t know. I usually wake up around one-thirty or two.”

“Well, when you wake up, why don’t you come over and join me at the pool. I can fix you some lunch or, if you prefer, a late breakfast?”

I tried to make the invitation sound innocent so he could easily decline if he wanted.

“That sounds nice. Are you sure you don’t mind if I join you?”

I could see the smile on his face which told me he liked the idea of joining me at my parents’ pool.

“I would love to have you come over. Just come by when you wake up. My parents are never home before six-thirty, so I get lonesome there by myself.”

I could feel myself blush as I made the last comment, realizing that I was being a bit brazen emphasizing that we had the house to ourselves until after six o’clock.

“Okay then, it's a date.”

I spent the next several hours anxiously waiting for time to pass. I worried about what I would fix him for lunch. Should we eat by the pool or in the house? I fretted about what I should wear. Should I wear my bikini? And if I wore my bikini, should it be with or without a cover up?

Should I put on make-up? What music should I have playing? I was clearly over thinking our date.

This was the first date I had with someone I cared about. But was it a date? Or was it two friends just hanging out by the pool? Don had called it a date, but what did that mean? I was a nervous wreck for the next few hours.

It was just after noon when he knocked on the back door. I answered and said, “You're early.”

“I’m sorry. I could not sleep. I kept waking up. I think I was anticipating our lunch,” he replied. “If I'm too early, I can come back later.”

He was so cute. He was actually nervous about our lunch date. This was definitely a good sign. “No, not at all. Come in. I just wasn’t ready yet. Come in and I will fix us something to eat. How does a turkey sandwich sound?”

“It sounds great.” 

“Okay then. What will it be? Mayo, mustard, American cheese, Swiss?”

“Mayo and Swiss.”

I made two sandwiches, got some iced tea and we ate at the kitchen table. Don was wearing his swim trunks, a t-shirt and sandals. I had on my red and white striped bikini, covered up with an oversized t-shirt. The bikini had a halter top. The bottoms were essentially two triangles that tied in a knot on each of my hips. I knew this bikini accentuated my assets to their best advantage.

We finished eating and went out to the pool area. Don kicked off his sandals, and pulled his t-shirt over his head. He looked like the statue of Adonis standing there in front of me. The muscles in his chest and arms rippled; his abdomen was tight and firm and his legs were thick and muscular. And yes, he had a very nice butt.

Yes, he looked great.

I took a deep breath and removed the t-shirt. I was now modeling my most flattering bikini. I could feel the blood rush to my face and chest. I knew I was turning a deep crimson at the awkwardness and embarrassment of standing there like it. But Don smiled appreciatively and said, “Lisa, you really are a pretty girl.” Then, before I could respond, he turned and dove into the pool.

I sat on the edge of the pool, legs dangling in the water. Don swam the length of the pool a couple of times before popping up from under the water right in front of me. He placed his hands on my knees to hold himself against the side of the pool. This forced my legs apart slightly, allowing him to move between my thighs.

I realize that as you read this, you are probably thinking, What’s the big deal, right? I mean, I know that there was nothing really overtly sexual about any of this, but sitting there in my bikini, with this beautiful college student between my knees did seem very intimate and sexy to me at the time. In fact, it still does. And, by pushing my knees apart this way, Don now had a completely unobstructed view of the gusset of my bikini.

I felt myself blush as I realized that the only thing between Don and my vagina was a two inch wide strip of red and white striped material. I felt very exposed. And I will confess, I liked this feeling of exposure. It was strangely exciting.

We talked and flirted for several minutes with Don floating between my knees. I saw him glance several times directly at the gusset of my bottoms before catching himself and returning to look directly in my eyes. And while it embarrassed me a bit, I admit that I liked the fact that looking at my crotch was such a temptation to him. I liked it a lot.

Eventually, Don pushed away, with a huge splash, back into the water. I stood up. I caught my reflection in the large bay window of my living room. Yes, I looked good in my bikini. I noticed my nipples were hard as pebbles, poking through the fabric of the top. They were prominently displayed for Don to see. I knew he noticed them too.

Don got out of the pool, dried off and asked, “I hate to be a pest, but do you have any sunscreen?”

“Sure, I will get some.”

I returned a moment later, expecting to hand the bottle to Don, but as I approached, he turned away and said, “Would you put some on my back?”

I know it sounds silly, but honestly, I was nervous rubbing the lotion on his back. This was my first real physical contact with him. I poured some lotion in my palm, set the bottle down, and massaged the cream into his broad shoulders.

“That feels good. You have great hands,” he said.

With his encouragement, I massaged his muscular shoulders more firmly. I then slid my hands down his back and spread the lotion, covering his entire back. I was not sure where we were headed. So I stopped.

“Can I put some lotion on you? You don’t want to get burned,” Don offered.

His question surprised me but I quickly responded, “Sure. I’d like that.”

“Here, lie down on the chaise lounge and I will rub the lotion on you." Don said it so matter of fact, I simply nodded and did as he instructed.

Don took a large towel, folded it several times and placed it on the concrete beside my lounge chair. He then knelt on the folded towel. He moved my hair away from my back, placing it over me shoulders. Then he began applying the lotion to my shoulders. His touch felt wonderful as he massaged my upper back. I silently relished the touch of his strong hands. His fingers slid under the strap of my top as he massaged my upper back. I was enjoying his touch immensely.

He then moved to my lower back, rubbing the lotion in a circular motion into my flesh. I expected the massage to stop there, but then Don got up, moved the towel on which he was kneeling and began applying the lotion to the backs of my legs.

“Is this okay?” he asked without pausing.

“I guess so. It feels great, but you don’t have to do this,” I replied with a nervous stutter.

Don laughed. “Lisa, this is not a chore or a punishment. I enjoy doing this.”

I was not entirely sure what was happening, but I was enjoying the massage. However, I was also slightly uncomfortable and nervous.

Don started working his way up my legs towards my buttocks. I suddenly felt my heart pounding in my chest as he took the leg hole from my bikini bottom and moved it higher, exposing slightly more of my ass cheek. By adjusting my bikini bottom, he had made it more like a thong without uttering a word. A good portion of my butt cheeks were now exposed.

I could feel my face redden and burn from embarrassment. I did not know what to do or say. I was not completely comfortable with this, but lacked the confidence, or the will, to say anything. So I lay there, my heart pounding and my ass partially exposed as Don applied lotion to the sides of my butt. I must admit, having my butt rubbed this way felt great, but it seemed terribly inappropriate to me at that time. I felt that I should not be allowing this familiarity.

Suddenly, I was aware of my clitoris, which seemed to be awakening.

After two or three minutes of a very enjoyable butt rub, I managed to say, “Thank you,” and sat up, indicating the massage was over. I reached down and adjusted the material of my bikini bottoms, returning them to their normal position. I was simply going to ignore the fact that seconds earlier, Don was feeling my ass!

As I turned over, I was surprised to see a large bulge in the front of Don’s trunks. He had gotten a sizable erection while touching me. I was shocked, flattered and embarrassed by the obvious reaction. I tried not to look at it, but my gaze kept straying towards his crotch as I tried to make small talk.

Don did not try to hide his boner, and did not seem embarrassed by it. In fact, he seemed somewhat amused by my discomfort at this large tent pole in front of me.

As I lay on my back, shielding my eyes from the sun with my arm, Don sat next to me on the chaise lounge. Despite trying to simply ignore the boner in his trunks, it proved to be too much of a distraction for me. I could not seem to talk without my eyes returning to the huge bulge. Finally, I felt I needed to say something, anything to address the obvious, and relieve my discomfort.

“You seem to have a bit of an issue there,” I said, smiling and nodding towards his erection.

Don nodded back and agreed, “Yeah, you have created a bit of a problem for me.”

“Me? What did I do?”

“You went and grew up and you became the most gorgeous girl I have ever seen. I just can’t help myself. ‘Little Don’ is simply paying a tribute to your beauty.”

“Little Don?”

“Yep, that’s his name.”

“You named your penis?”

“It only seemed right. It seemed so impersonal to keep calling him ‘dick'. Don’t you have a pet name for your... you know...”

He glanced briefly at my crotch to let me know for certain what he was referring to.

“But Little Don? He doesn't look little to me,” I said before realizing it was an inappropriate my comment. But, on the other hand, the entire conversation was inappropriate.

“Do you have a better suggestion? What do you call your... well, you know?”

I could not contain my laugh. I continued with a nervous excitement in my voice, “This is so weird, but since you asked, no, I have not named my parts.”

I looked at the throbbing pole desperately pressing against the material of his trunks and asked, “So how long does this last? Will it just go away?”

“Probably not, at least not without your help,” he replied.

Again, I could only laugh nervously, unable to think of what to say. I know I was a bright shade of crimson.

Then, as if he suddenly realized how uncomfortable I was, his expression changed. Don’s voice also changed from joking and flirtatious to serious. “Lisa, I am very attracted to you. And more than that, I really like you. I like who you are, but I also do not want to screw up our friendship. I don’t want to push you into something you do not want, or that you are not ready for. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

I nodded but did not speak. I really did not know what I could say at that moment. I was not sure where this was going, but I was scared. I was scared that Don was going to tell me he had to leave before something happened. And I was also scared of what might happen if he stayed. In fact, my mind was swirling. I could not identify a scenario that did not scare me at that moment.

Don reached up and placed his hand on my cheek and asked, “May I kiss you?”

I nodded. I did not know what I wanted to happen next, but at this moment, I knew I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted that more than anything I had ever wanted in my life.

Don leaned forward and our lips touched, gently at first and then more passionately. I opened my mouth to accept his tongue. My head was spinning and my pulse was racing. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he lay down next to me.

We kissed passionately for several minutes. Our breathing grew faster and I felt his large erection pressing into my legs and groin as he humped his hips from excitement. With my arms around his neck, I did not interfere when Don reached up and cupped my breast in his hand. Momentarily, I contemplated whether I should try to stop him from fondling me. This was new territory for me. No one had ever done it before.

Quickly, I concluded that I did not want to stop him; I knew that I wanted Don to be the first one to touch my breasts.

I moaned, sucking his tongue into my mouth as he teased my erect nipple. I was growing increasingly aroused. I was squeezing my legs together to exert pressure on my swollen clitoris as Don continued to tease my nipple through the red and white striped material.

After a couple of minutes, Don slipped the bra up, exposing my bright pink nipples to sunlight for the first time in my life. I felt so wickedly sexy with the warm sun shining brightly on my exposed tits. I could feel the wetness in my vagina beginning to leak into the gusset of my bikini bottom.

Don broke our kiss and began kissing my neck and shoulders, heading down to my exposed breasts. He took my right nipple into his mouth and sucked it, teasing it with his tongue. I massaged his head, holding it against my breast as he suckled at my nipples, moving from one to the other, teasing both of them to attention.

“That feels good,” I stammered nervously.

My nipples were so hard and so erect. And my vagina was really lubricating now, the wetness leaking out of me. I could not help rocking my hips slightly, humping my bottom up into the air, demonstrating to both Don and myself how aroused I had become.

After several minutes, I realized that necking and petting like this, with my breasts exposed in the backyard in broad daylight, was far too dangerous. We could get caught. Anyone could walk around back and stumble upon us.

“Don, maybe we should go inside the house,” I suggested.

He nodded and stood up, pulling me into a standing position with him. My bikini bra hung loosely around my neck, my tits still exposed. Don kissed me again, and teased my saliva-coated nipple with his fingers .

“Lisa, you are a very pretty girl... very pretty,” he said, holding me at arm’s length. With my bikini top still hanging loosely around my neck Don leaned forward to kiss each of my nipples again. “Very pretty, indeed.”

He then took my left hand and placed it on the front of his trunks which was covering his pulsating erection. I was shocked, and did not know quite what to do. I did not close my fingers on his penis, but simply allowed my hand to rest there gauging its size. His penis felt larger and thicker than I was expecting. It throbbed under my touch.

Touching his penis excited me, but honestly, its size, its pulsing and the significance of this act itself, frightened me a bit. I did not know if I was ready for all of this.

As my hand rested on his cock, Don said, “That is yours. Only yours.”

I did not know what he meant, but his words scared me. This was going too fast. In the last thirty minutes we had our first kiss. For the first time in my young life, I was felt up, my breasts had been sucked and now I had my hand on a man’s penis.

Don led me by the hand into the house as I tried to pull my bikini bra back down to cover my breasts. I found that pulling my top down with only one hand was difficult, and I felt clumsy as I tried to cover my breasts as we walked.

I did not know what was in store for me, so I just followed Don’s lead. As we walked, I tried hard to process these events and determine what limits I wanted, or needed, to enforce. I was not sure how far I wanted to go on this journey of discovery.

I thought we would resume our necking and light petting on the living room couch, but Don led me straight upstairs to my bedroom. I wanted to say something, to protest and suggest we stay in the living room, but I didn’t. Something stopped me from expressing my concern about immediately going to my bedroom. I was, truthfully, too willing to allow Don to assume control.

My bed was covered with a bright pink comforter as well as with several stuffed childhood animals. I immediately realized that my room looked like it belonged to a little girl, not a woman who was discovering her sexuality. I knocked the stuffed animals from the bed to the floor.

Don turned me to face him and kissed me again. As we stood, our bodies pressed together, kissing deeply, he unhooked the clasp on my bikini bra and then untied the halter around my neck. Without breaking our kiss, Don removed my top, leaving my breasts exposed once more. He tossed my top onto my dresser. My bare nipples were now pressing against his muscular chest.

Don broke our kiss and, slowly, while kissing my neck, started to move around behind me. I was not sure what he was doing, but his hands held my shoulders indicting he wanted me to remain standing as I was. So I complied. I stood and allowed him to move behind me. As he pressed against me, I could feel his erection grinding against my lower back.

I opened my eyes to see our image reflected in the mirror over my dresser. I saw Don standing behind me, kissing my neck and ear from behind while feeling my right breast with his free hand. My left nipple was fully exposed and stood at attention, erect, hard as a pebble. It was a very erotic image. I will never forget it.

He then slowly moved his hand down my abdomen, past my navel, stopping at the waistband of my bikini bottoms, preparing to slide his fingers inside. I grabbed his hand as the tips of his fingers got inside my waistband. I held his hand firmly.

“Don, this is moving too fast,” I cautioned. “I am not sure about this. We need to slow down.”

“I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do. I don’t want to push you into anything before you’re ready,” he said.

I listened silently as I squeezed his fingers in my hand, preventing him from venturing further into my bikini. He was rocking his hips, humping against me from behind. I could feel his rigid erection throbbing against my lower back.

I was unsure of what I wanted. I knew I longed for his touch, but I also knew I was losing control of the situation. I had not planned on any of this happening; therefore I was unprepared for it, mentally or emotionally. I stood motionless for about a minute, continuing to grasp his right hand, his fingertips just inside the waistband . He continued to kiss my neck and tease my nipple with his other hand, teasing me, slowly eroding my resolve.

Finally, after a minute or so, my willpower broke. I could not resist any longer. The temptation to be touched down there by Don was simply too great.

I released his hand and said, “I think I want you to touch me.”

When I released his hand, he hesitated for a moment before saying, “Are you sure about this? You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

I nodded. “I want you to touch me. I want you to be the first to ever touch me there. Please?”

I wanted him to know that I had never done anything like this before. I wanted him to know how special this was for me. Although he obviously sensed that it was special, I didn't know if he could comprehend how very precious this moment was - and still is - to me.

With my permission, his fingers moved further inside my bikini, through my thin, wisps of blonde pubic hair. I opened my legs slightly, granting him access to my very moist vagina. When his fingers found my clitoris they sent a shudder through my body and a quiet moan escaped me.

I pushed my ass back against his erection as he stimulated my erect clit. He was getting me so very, very hot.

Don bent his knees, squatting slightly. He began humping his boner against my ass as he teased my clitoris, making me shudder and moan repeatedly. I felt my vagina leaking and could feel feel myself opening up in small little pleasurable spasms. My physical response to this stimulation was much more pronounced than anything I had experienced before.

I thought about how my vagina responded to my own touch when I masturbated; this was very different. I was leaking much more profusely now and I could feel my vagina dilating with each glorious spasm.

Don reached down further between my legs to seek the opening of my vagina. He parted the lips of my labia and inserted the tip of a finger. I spread my legs as he began to massaging the opening of my vulva. It was clear that Don was much more experienced than I.

I was excited, nervous and scared. I felt like I was in a daze, like someone else was controlling my body and my movements. I was unable to resist Don’s touch, I was so aroused.

“Oh Don, you are getting me so hot. Damn it, I can’t stand this,” I panted.

I arched my hips back and forth, humping my ass against his cock and pressing my pussy forward against his exploring fingers. I could feel the lubrication just running out of me. I was having difficulty standing, quivering with my knees bowed slightly. I now squatted slightly to allow Don better to access my vagina.

Fearing that I would lose my balance and topple over, I took a couple of steps forward and placed both hands on the top of my dresser, and leaned forward. Don moved forward with me, never losing contact with the opening to my vagina.

He continued to kiss my neck and ear, still stimulating me, teasing my erect clitoris and humping against my ass. After teasing my clit, he would return his fingers to my vaginal opening, causing me to quiver. Then he would return to my clit, before repeating the process.

I still cannot believe how I responded to his touch.

With Don standing behind me, reaching around with his hand down the front of my bikini, he was only able to get the tips of his fingers inside my pussy. I seemed to be stuck on an edge. I was so turned on, but I could not climax. I could not get over the magic line separating me from my orgasm. I was tempted to reach down and finish the job with my own fingers.

But, really, I wanted him to penetrate me more deeply. Looking at Don’ reflection in my mirror, I begged shamelessly, “Don, I need your fingers inside of me. Please, finger me. Please.”

Don smiled and nodded. He removed his hand from my vagina and untied one of the knots at my hip, causing the front and back of my briefs to fall apart. I opened my legs and I allowed the bikini to fall to the floor. The last remaining barrier had been removed. With my bikini bottoms at my feet, Don was granted full access to my gushing pussy. I was now totally exposed, naked and vulnerable.

I looked at my naked form in the mirror. I had a dazed, glassy-eyed look of a woman in heat. I could not stop rocking my hips, humping the air in a manner that revealed my arousal. I almost could not recognize the beautiful, sexy woman looking back at me with her rigidly erect nipples atop perky breasts.

Don knelt behind me and gently pressed his hand into the small of my back, encouraging me to lean forward. I allowed Don to position me as he wanted. I placed my elbows on the top of my dresser. Brazenly, I arched my back slightly, sticking my round bottom high in the air. I did not know precisely what he was going to do to me, but in my aroused state, I simply complied and allowed him to touch me as he pleased.

Kneeling behind me, Don slid his hand between my legs. I closed my eyes and moaned as I felt his fingers separate the lips of my labia. I felt his middle finger penetrate my vagina.

“Oh god, that feels good,” I hissed, arching my back more to force his finger deeper inside me.

Don withdrew his finger and I felt the tips of both his middle finger and his index finger begin to wedge inside me. I was not used to being pried open like this; it started to hurt a bit. I felt myself tense.

“Careful, careful... don’t hurt me,” I cautioned.

“I’ll go slow, I promise,” Don assured me, as his fingertips massaged the tight outer ring of my pussy. I felt my vagina slowly relax and dilate, allowing his fingers to slide further inside. My lubrication seeped out of me, coating his fingers and trickling down my inner thighs.

“Oh god, I am so turned on,” I hissed as I rocked my hips in rhythm to Don’s probing fingers.

I could even sense the faint aroma of my arousal. I had not smelled myself give off this scent before, but now, the scent of my sexual response was clearly present in my bedroom, informing Don in yet another way how aroused I was. I simply could not believe how I was responding to his stimulation.

I was so wet and so open that, after a little work, he was able to squeeze two fingers deep inside me, stretching my virgin pussy. I knew I had taken both of his fingers when I felt his knuckles pressing against my vulva, stimulating my clitoris.

Once fully inside me, Don’s fingers found a spot on the front wall of my vagina that caused a reaction, a response that shocked me. It was a place I did not know existed. Later in life, I learned it was an area known as g-spot. I almost screamed as he began massaging the front wall of my vagina. “Oh my god, oh,” I said between incoherent moans and other sounds of pleasure.

Until now, Don’s touch had me aroused and moaning, but his fingers buried deep inside me, massaging my pussy, caused me to shake uncontrollably. I was reacting in a way I did not know was possible. I bucked my hips as I humped against his invading fingers. I raised up on my toes, pushing my ass high in the air to force his fingers deeper into me as wave upon wave of pleasure rocked across my frame.

“Oh God, Don… don’t stop," I moaned and panted. I felt an orgasm building. I knew I was going to cum. His fingers had pushed me to the edge.

“Oh fuck, just like that… just like that, right there. Don’t stop… oh, fuck, here it comes... oh just like that,” I cried out.

Fortunately, we had the house to ourselves. I hoped his mother was not outside next door; she would hear my screams and moans.

As the first wave hit me, I collapsed forward, resting my head on my folded arms with my ass high in the air. My entire body was quivering with pleasure as my orgasm seemed to go on and on. I was not sure what Don was doing with his fingers, but they were producing a sensation deep in my core that kept my climax going. Exhaustion was taking over, I could not keep cumming like this. I needed to stop.

“Oh Don, you need to stop. You need to let me come down.”

Don smiled broadly with a pride I had not seen previously and slowly withdrew his fingers. I remained motionless, trying to regain my senses, my ass still in the air and my vagina still experiencing minor spasms in the post-orgasmic moments.

“Oh my god. Thank you, I’ve never had one like that before. I’ve never experienced anything like that before,” I panted.

I raised my head and watched Don’s reflection as he stood and removed his swim trunks. His huge, hard cock seemed to spring forth from his trunks as he lowered them.

So much had changed in the past few hours. Having achieved my orgasm, I was not totally consumed by lust any longer. I was thinking a bit more clearly now. I allowed Don to lead me to the bed and lay me on my back. As he started to climb between my legs, I suddenly realized that he wanted to enter me with his penis; he wanted to fuck me!

I could not allow this to happen. I was not protected, I could not risk getting pregnant.

“Don, we can’t. I can’t get pregnant,” I said with the most authoritative tone I could muster. "Let me thank you another way,” I said, almost pleading.

I knew he needed a release, but how?

“Lisa, you need to trust me, okay?”

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Coming soon, Chapter 2: Lisa learns about the male anatomy