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Alan smiled as he went with his parents to visit the Morgan's. The fact that he was already bored out of his skull was hidden under that well practiced smile. The only bright spot he had to look forward to was that his pious parents and the holier-than-thou Morgan's would fob him off into Clare's care.
He liked Clare. She was smart, even if a little naïve. OK. Even if she was hellishly naïve. Her parents fault, of course. They controlled every aspect of her life, never giving her the slightest leeway. She'd even been home schooled.
Being a boy, he'd been able to give his own parents the slip occasionally, not that they'd ever noticed. They always assumed that once he went to bed for the night, he stayed there. This assumption had proved false on more than one occasion.
It was ridiculous that his parents could expect him to live a holy, pious and celibate life just because that's what they fancied for him. He was eighteen, damn-it. Legally an adult. He had a job and paid taxes and he had no intention of becoming a priest.
As for Clare and her parents intentions for her. She was now eighteen, as well. He'd have to put a flea in her ear or she'd find herself shipped off to a convent to become a nun. What a fate for a lovely young woman like her.
Arriving at the Morgan's place Alan stayed quietly in the background as his parents and the Morgan's greeted each other. He could see Clare doing the same, wearing one of the most god-awful dresses he'd ever seen. Undoubtedly made for her by her mother.
After Alan's parents and the Morgan's had finished their greetings, he and Clare were dragged forward to be patted on the head and admired. And then chased off so that the adults could talk.
"Take Alan up to your room, Clare," said Mrs Morgan. "He can go over your homework with you and correct any errors. He's quite clever you know. Remember to leave your door open, though."
"Yes, Mother," said Clare quietly, leaving the room, Alan trailing along behind.
"Look at them," they heard one of the adults say. "Two complete innocents, knowing nothing of the nastiness of the world."
Reaching her room, Clare flung herself inside and dropped onto a chair.
"Don't sit there," she snapped, as Alan went to sit on the bed. "The springs are set up to squeak if you sit or lie on the bed and my mother would be up here like a shot to see why we're on the bed."
"Must be rough trying to sleep in a squeaky bed," said Alan with a laugh, turning to sit on the other chair.
"I've got used to it," sighed Clare. "I don't even notice it. But if I sit on the bed during the day, mum's up here like a shot, deploring my laziness and finding me something to do. The open door isn't so that they can look in. It's to let them hear if the bed squeaks."
"It's not funny," she snapped, glaring at Alan's laughing face. "I get so mad at times. You heard what they called us when we left. 'The Innocents', as though we were a couple of strange creatures. Doesn't that sort of thing infuriate you?"
"Not me," said Alan. "Long may it continue. While they think of me that way it means they have no idea of what I get up to in my private life."
"Private life. What's that?" said Clare bitterly, "and how do you get one?"
"Well, I don't know about you, but I developed mine by sneaking out of the house after bedtime, starting about five years ago," said Alan. "I haven't been caught out yet or there's no way I'd be allowed to be here alone with you. They'd be afraid I'd contaminate you with talk about sex and things like that. Forbidden subjects."
"I could probably surprise them," grumbled Clare. "Even with the rigid controls they put on the TV and the internet you can still get quite a bit of information if you're careful. And keep your history cleared up," she added with a smirk.
"Clare, you're full of it. You wouldn't even know what a man's privates looked like."
"Really," said Clare, smiling sweetly. "Then why don't you show me, Mr Know-it-all."
"See. You're still a total innocent talking to a man-of-the-world," jeered Alan. "Next you'll be saying I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
"That seems reasonable to me," said Clare, her smile not faltering. "Is Mr Man-of-the-world game to show me his?"
"Oh, I'm game, but I doubt you are. Because you're a woman you'd have to show me your boobs as well, which means that you'd have to effectively get undressed. All I need to do is unzip."
"Why would I have to show my breasts as well?" demanded Clare.
"Because, little Miss Innocent, men like to look at women's breasts and to touch them, and a real woman likes her man to touch her breasts. Do you know anything at all about sex?"
"Um, not really," confessed Clare. "That's why I hoped I could get you to explain a few things to me today. I thought showing me your thing would be a start."
"Let's see how serious you are about this. You take off your panties and lift up your dress to show me what you've got and we'll take it from there."
To Alan's surprise, Clare did just that. While he watched she lifted her dress and pulled off a pair of granny-pants. Then she hitched her dress up around her waist, blushing slightly, but determined.
Alan's gaze ran up her long slender and very shapely legs to where the cleft of her sex showed. He nodded slowly in appreciation.
"Very nice," he said. "If you'll pardon me for asking, I notice that you shave."
"Mother says that it shows that I'm still a c***d," she said. "She says if I ever get married I won't need to bother."
"Your mother's an idiot. What it shows is that you're a woman and any man who sees that is going to want you," growled Alan. "Take off the terrible dress and let me see you."
Blushing slightly more now, but still determined, Clare obeyed, lifting her dress up and over her head. Standing there naked, she could practically feel Alan's eyes touching her.
"No bra," ask Alan, his voice a little hoarse.
"Mother says I don't need one at my age," returned Clare.
"She's so right," Alan muttered. "It'd only get in the way."
"Get in the way of what?" Clare asked.
"My hands," said Alan, standing up and demonstrating what he meant.
Clare looked at the hands cupping her breasts, stroking them. She could feel strange sensations there. It was different, but she liked it. She gasped as Alan's thumbs rasped across her nipples. She almost sighed with disappointment when he seemed to curse himself and step back.
"Your turn," Clare said determinedly. "I'm entitled to see what you've got now."
"Maybe you'd better put your dress back on first," muttered Alan, feeling very hard done by.
"No need," said Clare airily. "The steps squeak, so I'll hear if anyone starts to come upstairs and I'll have time to toss it on. I think I like being undressed with you looking at me. Now stop stalling."
Alan sighed and unzipped. With a bit of manoeuvring he extracted his erection, which was standing tall and straight, throbbing slightly in its desire for action.
"My goodness," gasped Clare. "That's, um, a bit bigger than I expected. I'm surprised I didn't see it pressing against your trousers."
"That," said Alan through gritted teeth, "is because it was resting. It's currently excited because you're naked."
"Ooh. You mean I make it like this?"
"Yes. It means I want you."
"Um, that's nice, I think, but what do you actually do with it?"
"If you so much as lay one finger on it you'll find what I do with it, you dumb broad," shouted Alan to himself.
More circumspectly he told her.
"It means I want to insert it into your womanly parts," he told her. "It's hard like this because it has to make you yield to it. Come here and bend over my lap and I'll give you a little bit of instruction."
Innocently curious, Clare did as she was told.
"OK. Move your legs apart a bit. I'm going to be touching you here. You don't mind?"
"No. I'm curious and it actually feels kind of exciting. What happens now."
Alan started rubbing her mound, explaining as he did so. His fingers eased apart her lips, slipping inside.
"This," he said, pressing softly, "is your hymen. It protects your virginity. One reason my cock is so hard is because it would have to break this on its way in. You'll find that may hurt, so it's better we don't try it. Once your hymen is broken you will find that my cock can enter you quite deeply. Most people like the experience."
"Why can't you show me? Who else can I get to talk to about it. My parents? They'd have a fit. And I never see anyone else. It will have to be you. Besides, I liked the way you touched my breasts and I like the way it feels when you touch me there. So why can't you show me properly?"
"Are you on the pill?" asked Alan.
"What pill?"
Does your mother give you a daily pill to help regulate your periods?"
Clare flushed. "Yes. Why? What does that have to do with anything?"
"A side effect of that pill is that it prevents pregnancy. If you're not on it, sticking a cock inside you can cause pregnancy. That's why I asked."
"You mean that you'll do it?" Clare asked happily.
"Couldn't stop if I wanted to," grumbled Alan, "and who wants to?"
He stood up and had Clare bend over the chair, hands braced against the seat and her legs nicely parted.
"In theory, we should be on the bed, but I don't think we want squeaking springs right now. Just remember that if you feel like screaming, don't."
Clare giggled, enjoying the way that Alan was slowly rubbing her mound, his fingers darting inside and teasing her every so often. Very soon he seemed satisfied and she could feel him easing her lips apart. She held her breath expectantly as she felt something large and round starting to push its way into her.
With the head of his cock engaged within Clare's slit, Alan paused for a moment. Reaching around Clare, he took hold of her breasts, squeezing them slightly. Then he started pressing deeper. He quickly felt Clare's hymen pressing against his cock, doing its best to defend her from his intrusion.
"OK, Clare," he said. "This is the sticking point. If I continue the next little bit might hurt. Well?"
"You can't stop now," gasped Clare. "I won't cry. Honest."
"Well, this might help you a little," said Alan, and at the same time as he thrust hard against Clare's hymen he pinched both her nipples.
Clare gave a muffled squeak, the distraction of having her nipples pinched almost making her overlook the fact that her hymen had split. What she couldn't overlook was the sudden entry of Alan's cock as it plunged deeper into her body.
Clare was suddenly recalling how big it had looked. How deep into her was it going to go? What if she couldn't handle it? She'd be so embarrassed. She could feel him, pushing in, and she could feel herself stretching to accommodate him. The more he pushed into her the more she seemed to stretch, slowly but surely taking all of him.
Alan released Clare's breasts and clasped her hips. Holding her firmly he gave one last thrust, holding her impaled against him.
"Now we can start," he told her.
"Start?" asked a startled Clare. "I thought this was it?"
"No. Up until now we were just getting ready. Just remember two things. Move with your instincts and don't scream."
Reaching around to reclaim Clare's breasts, Alan played with them while he started to slowly pump into Clare. He moved carefully, letting her feel him and get used to the motion. After a while he felt a tentative surge against his cock as he pushed forward. Slowly but surely, Clare picked up the rhythm, moving with greater determination as she relished the movement of the cock within her.
She must be doing it right, she decided, feeling Alan steadily increasing the force of his movements. She stayed with him, thrusting back against each invasion, feeling his cock plunge deep within her, exciting her more and more with each thrust.
She was gasping now, little squeaks escaping from her as the passions flared within her, lifting her higher, promising a greater reward to come. She eagerly met each thrust, wanting more, demanding more.
Alan was only too happy to oblige, driving home willingly, determined to make her first experience unforgettable. He was thoroughly enjoying the feel of her responding to his loving, enjoyed the way she was writhing happily against him.
Clare was lost. Everything was forgotten but this driving need, this place to which Alan's cock was driving her. She was gasping, her cries becoming a little louder, a little faster, keeping time to the urgency of the cock hammering inside her.
Alan cursed quietly. Hastily he moved a hand from Clare's breast to her mouth, covering it. At the same time he made a series of harder strokes, releasing himself into her, feeling Clare tighten around his cock, her helpless scream muffled by his hand.
Clare stood there, helpless, Alan holding her as aftershocks wracked her. She was breathing hard, not sure what she was doing. Slowly she gathered her wits together.
She looked at Alan and smiled.
"Wow," she said.
"Wow, indeed," replied Alan. "Um, you may want to nip across to the bathroom and have a quick wash."
Clare grinned at him, grabbed her dress, and did as advised, returning shortly, demure and proper.
"I'm supposed to be going over your home work with you," Alan said. "I suppose we'd better look at it."
Clare produced her books and they started going over them. They talked as they looked at the books, but not much of the talk was about the homework. Eventually they were hailed from below.
"Alan, we're leaving now."
Alan and Clare headed back downstairs.
"Was Alan able to help with your homework?" asked Mrs Morgan.
"Oh, yes, he was ever so helpful," gushed Clare. "You know one of the questions was about famous women in history and I asked Alan what was the real difference between men and women and he explained it to me, which you never would. It was a lot easier to understand once we took off our clothes and compared our bits and pieces.
"It was a bit hard to work out how they fitted together, but once Alan's thing got all hard it fitted in quite easily. It felt very interesting once we got it moving in and out."
Two innocently bland faces looked at their parents, noting the various reactions.
He liked Clare. She was smart, even if a little naïve. OK. Even if she was hellishly naïve. Her parents fault, of course. They controlled every aspect of her life, never giving her the slightest leeway. She'd even been home schooled.
Being a boy, he'd been able to give his own parents the slip occasionally, not that they'd ever noticed. They always assumed that once he went to bed for the night, he stayed there. This assumption had proved false on more than one occasion.
It was ridiculous that his parents could expect him to live a holy, pious and celibate life just because that's what they fancied for him. He was eighteen, damn-it. Legally an adult. He had a job and paid taxes and he had no intention of becoming a priest.
As for Clare and her parents intentions for her. She was now eighteen, as well. He'd have to put a flea in her ear or she'd find herself shipped off to a convent to become a nun. What a fate for a lovely young woman like her.
Arriving at the Morgan's place Alan stayed quietly in the background as his parents and the Morgan's greeted each other. He could see Clare doing the same, wearing one of the most god-awful dresses he'd ever seen. Undoubtedly made for her by her mother.
After Alan's parents and the Morgan's had finished their greetings, he and Clare were dragged forward to be patted on the head and admired. And then chased off so that the adults could talk.
"Take Alan up to your room, Clare," said Mrs Morgan. "He can go over your homework with you and correct any errors. He's quite clever you know. Remember to leave your door open, though."
"Yes, Mother," said Clare quietly, leaving the room, Alan trailing along behind.
"Look at them," they heard one of the adults say. "Two complete innocents, knowing nothing of the nastiness of the world."
Reaching her room, Clare flung herself inside and dropped onto a chair.
"Don't sit there," she snapped, as Alan went to sit on the bed. "The springs are set up to squeak if you sit or lie on the bed and my mother would be up here like a shot to see why we're on the bed."
"Must be rough trying to sleep in a squeaky bed," said Alan with a laugh, turning to sit on the other chair.
"I've got used to it," sighed Clare. "I don't even notice it. But if I sit on the bed during the day, mum's up here like a shot, deploring my laziness and finding me something to do. The open door isn't so that they can look in. It's to let them hear if the bed squeaks."
"It's not funny," she snapped, glaring at Alan's laughing face. "I get so mad at times. You heard what they called us when we left. 'The Innocents', as though we were a couple of strange creatures. Doesn't that sort of thing infuriate you?"
"Not me," said Alan. "Long may it continue. While they think of me that way it means they have no idea of what I get up to in my private life."
"Private life. What's that?" said Clare bitterly, "and how do you get one?"
"Well, I don't know about you, but I developed mine by sneaking out of the house after bedtime, starting about five years ago," said Alan. "I haven't been caught out yet or there's no way I'd be allowed to be here alone with you. They'd be afraid I'd contaminate you with talk about sex and things like that. Forbidden subjects."
"I could probably surprise them," grumbled Clare. "Even with the rigid controls they put on the TV and the internet you can still get quite a bit of information if you're careful. And keep your history cleared up," she added with a smirk.
"Clare, you're full of it. You wouldn't even know what a man's privates looked like."
"Really," said Clare, smiling sweetly. "Then why don't you show me, Mr Know-it-all."
"See. You're still a total innocent talking to a man-of-the-world," jeered Alan. "Next you'll be saying I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
"That seems reasonable to me," said Clare, her smile not faltering. "Is Mr Man-of-the-world game to show me his?"
"Oh, I'm game, but I doubt you are. Because you're a woman you'd have to show me your boobs as well, which means that you'd have to effectively get undressed. All I need to do is unzip."
"Why would I have to show my breasts as well?" demanded Clare.
"Because, little Miss Innocent, men like to look at women's breasts and to touch them, and a real woman likes her man to touch her breasts. Do you know anything at all about sex?"
"Um, not really," confessed Clare. "That's why I hoped I could get you to explain a few things to me today. I thought showing me your thing would be a start."
"Let's see how serious you are about this. You take off your panties and lift up your dress to show me what you've got and we'll take it from there."
To Alan's surprise, Clare did just that. While he watched she lifted her dress and pulled off a pair of granny-pants. Then she hitched her dress up around her waist, blushing slightly, but determined.
Alan's gaze ran up her long slender and very shapely legs to where the cleft of her sex showed. He nodded slowly in appreciation.
"Very nice," he said. "If you'll pardon me for asking, I notice that you shave."
"Mother says that it shows that I'm still a c***d," she said. "She says if I ever get married I won't need to bother."
"Your mother's an idiot. What it shows is that you're a woman and any man who sees that is going to want you," growled Alan. "Take off the terrible dress and let me see you."
Blushing slightly more now, but still determined, Clare obeyed, lifting her dress up and over her head. Standing there naked, she could practically feel Alan's eyes touching her.
"No bra," ask Alan, his voice a little hoarse.
"Mother says I don't need one at my age," returned Clare.
"She's so right," Alan muttered. "It'd only get in the way."
"Get in the way of what?" Clare asked.
"My hands," said Alan, standing up and demonstrating what he meant.
Clare looked at the hands cupping her breasts, stroking them. She could feel strange sensations there. It was different, but she liked it. She gasped as Alan's thumbs rasped across her nipples. She almost sighed with disappointment when he seemed to curse himself and step back.
"Your turn," Clare said determinedly. "I'm entitled to see what you've got now."
"Maybe you'd better put your dress back on first," muttered Alan, feeling very hard done by.
"No need," said Clare airily. "The steps squeak, so I'll hear if anyone starts to come upstairs and I'll have time to toss it on. I think I like being undressed with you looking at me. Now stop stalling."
Alan sighed and unzipped. With a bit of manoeuvring he extracted his erection, which was standing tall and straight, throbbing slightly in its desire for action.
"My goodness," gasped Clare. "That's, um, a bit bigger than I expected. I'm surprised I didn't see it pressing against your trousers."
"That," said Alan through gritted teeth, "is because it was resting. It's currently excited because you're naked."
"Ooh. You mean I make it like this?"
"Yes. It means I want you."
"Um, that's nice, I think, but what do you actually do with it?"
"If you so much as lay one finger on it you'll find what I do with it, you dumb broad," shouted Alan to himself.
More circumspectly he told her.
"It means I want to insert it into your womanly parts," he told her. "It's hard like this because it has to make you yield to it. Come here and bend over my lap and I'll give you a little bit of instruction."
Innocently curious, Clare did as she was told.
"OK. Move your legs apart a bit. I'm going to be touching you here. You don't mind?"
"No. I'm curious and it actually feels kind of exciting. What happens now."
Alan started rubbing her mound, explaining as he did so. His fingers eased apart her lips, slipping inside.
"This," he said, pressing softly, "is your hymen. It protects your virginity. One reason my cock is so hard is because it would have to break this on its way in. You'll find that may hurt, so it's better we don't try it. Once your hymen is broken you will find that my cock can enter you quite deeply. Most people like the experience."
"Why can't you show me? Who else can I get to talk to about it. My parents? They'd have a fit. And I never see anyone else. It will have to be you. Besides, I liked the way you touched my breasts and I like the way it feels when you touch me there. So why can't you show me properly?"
"Are you on the pill?" asked Alan.
"What pill?"
Does your mother give you a daily pill to help regulate your periods?"
Clare flushed. "Yes. Why? What does that have to do with anything?"
"A side effect of that pill is that it prevents pregnancy. If you're not on it, sticking a cock inside you can cause pregnancy. That's why I asked."
"You mean that you'll do it?" Clare asked happily.
"Couldn't stop if I wanted to," grumbled Alan, "and who wants to?"
He stood up and had Clare bend over the chair, hands braced against the seat and her legs nicely parted.
"In theory, we should be on the bed, but I don't think we want squeaking springs right now. Just remember that if you feel like screaming, don't."
Clare giggled, enjoying the way that Alan was slowly rubbing her mound, his fingers darting inside and teasing her every so often. Very soon he seemed satisfied and she could feel him easing her lips apart. She held her breath expectantly as she felt something large and round starting to push its way into her.
With the head of his cock engaged within Clare's slit, Alan paused for a moment. Reaching around Clare, he took hold of her breasts, squeezing them slightly. Then he started pressing deeper. He quickly felt Clare's hymen pressing against his cock, doing its best to defend her from his intrusion.
"OK, Clare," he said. "This is the sticking point. If I continue the next little bit might hurt. Well?"
"You can't stop now," gasped Clare. "I won't cry. Honest."
"Well, this might help you a little," said Alan, and at the same time as he thrust hard against Clare's hymen he pinched both her nipples.
Clare gave a muffled squeak, the distraction of having her nipples pinched almost making her overlook the fact that her hymen had split. What she couldn't overlook was the sudden entry of Alan's cock as it plunged deeper into her body.
Clare was suddenly recalling how big it had looked. How deep into her was it going to go? What if she couldn't handle it? She'd be so embarrassed. She could feel him, pushing in, and she could feel herself stretching to accommodate him. The more he pushed into her the more she seemed to stretch, slowly but surely taking all of him.
Alan released Clare's breasts and clasped her hips. Holding her firmly he gave one last thrust, holding her impaled against him.
"Now we can start," he told her.
"Start?" asked a startled Clare. "I thought this was it?"
"No. Up until now we were just getting ready. Just remember two things. Move with your instincts and don't scream."
Reaching around to reclaim Clare's breasts, Alan played with them while he started to slowly pump into Clare. He moved carefully, letting her feel him and get used to the motion. After a while he felt a tentative surge against his cock as he pushed forward. Slowly but surely, Clare picked up the rhythm, moving with greater determination as she relished the movement of the cock within her.
She must be doing it right, she decided, feeling Alan steadily increasing the force of his movements. She stayed with him, thrusting back against each invasion, feeling his cock plunge deep within her, exciting her more and more with each thrust.
She was gasping now, little squeaks escaping from her as the passions flared within her, lifting her higher, promising a greater reward to come. She eagerly met each thrust, wanting more, demanding more.
Alan was only too happy to oblige, driving home willingly, determined to make her first experience unforgettable. He was thoroughly enjoying the feel of her responding to his loving, enjoyed the way she was writhing happily against him.
Clare was lost. Everything was forgotten but this driving need, this place to which Alan's cock was driving her. She was gasping, her cries becoming a little louder, a little faster, keeping time to the urgency of the cock hammering inside her.
Alan cursed quietly. Hastily he moved a hand from Clare's breast to her mouth, covering it. At the same time he made a series of harder strokes, releasing himself into her, feeling Clare tighten around his cock, her helpless scream muffled by his hand.
Clare stood there, helpless, Alan holding her as aftershocks wracked her. She was breathing hard, not sure what she was doing. Slowly she gathered her wits together.
She looked at Alan and smiled.
"Wow," she said.
"Wow, indeed," replied Alan. "Um, you may want to nip across to the bathroom and have a quick wash."
Clare grinned at him, grabbed her dress, and did as advised, returning shortly, demure and proper.
"I'm supposed to be going over your home work with you," Alan said. "I suppose we'd better look at it."
Clare produced her books and they started going over them. They talked as they looked at the books, but not much of the talk was about the homework. Eventually they were hailed from below.
"Alan, we're leaving now."
Alan and Clare headed back downstairs.
"Was Alan able to help with your homework?" asked Mrs Morgan.
"Oh, yes, he was ever so helpful," gushed Clare. "You know one of the questions was about famous women in history and I asked Alan what was the real difference between men and women and he explained it to me, which you never would. It was a lot easier to understand once we took off our clothes and compared our bits and pieces.
"It was a bit hard to work out how they fitted together, but once Alan's thing got all hard it fitted in quite easily. It felt very interesting once we got it moving in and out."
Two innocently bland faces looked at their parents, noting the various reactions.
Louise
- 30.03.2022
- 36
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